• “HE rules us. HE knows everything, HE is everything. HE is everywhere. Television, theaters, music, posters, and the internet; HE controls it all. We do what HE tells us to. Not out of will but out of fear. The fear of a Gauntlet, knocking down a door in the early hours of the morning. HE rules us. HE sees us. We are not safe. For we must obey HE’s will, or else…”
    A gun shot in the night. “Another raid has occurred today, the third one this week. I, John Lockhart, go against HE’s rule. What petty goals does HE have, nothing more than to spread “love” around the world. Creating a world of peace where people are not killed by one another and only die from disease or old age. Yet he is the one who kills everyone, now that is what I call irony. HE is very ignorant. Holed up in the slums where they have put us, the educated ones, who will bring and uprising to the ruthless rule of HE. There is no way to be free here. All the ones who have tried to escape have been found and sent to Hells’ Kitchen, one of the worst labor camps in the history of the world. Even Hitler would have been horrified on how they treat their prisoners. It’s as if the guards have no souls. We are let known of the way that the people are treated, for one reason only; fear. The fear of going to Hells’ Kitchen, or “The Kitchen” as some call it, the horrors that will await us if we go against HE’s orders. HE is the ruler of this country, this world. Ever since I was born, HE has always been there, it’s been so many years that it’s unreal. How old must HE be?”
    A scream in the dark. “Another family has been taken by the Gauntlets. Gauntlets are the people you will see before you are doomed. Gauntlets are servants of HE. They follow orders without question, no hesitation at all. They are the lucky few who will not live the horrors of the Kitchen; they will just be enforcing horrific torture that awaits captured rebels. The number of people taken away by the Gauntlets keeps increasing. Yesterday there where three hundred of us in the slums; I would be surprised if, by the end of the night, there is only a few of us left. Most of the ones that are taken are innocent people. They are just taken because someone has rated them out, while they are the ones who are guilty and the Gauntlets will let them live longer for turning in rebels to them.”
    A knock on the door. “Life in this place is hell. When looking from the outside, this place seems like a paradise, it’s not, that is only a mirage. Everything we do is monitored, letters sent to loved ones opened and never delivered, writing books, things we buy, even things we do in everyday life. They all see us. This will probably be burned when they search this place. I don’t care anymore. This will reach no one, it never does. Countless of letters I have written, all have never reached their destinations. It’s all pointless; there is nothing else to live for. I can only wait for the Gauntlets to either take me away or kill me on the spot. There will be no better release from this nightmare than the sound and sensation of a bullet going through my skull. Everywhere you look there is death. You cannot walk from one end of the street to the other without seeing at least five dead bodies on the ground. The stores are filled with rotting food that everyone eats, only because they would rather die a quick death rather than die from starvation. The street smell foul with the smell of rotting carcasses on the streets, the smell seems to get worse everyday, due to more people being killed. They got lucky. What a sweet release from this world that is the nightmare of all nightmares.”
    Three Gauntlets break through the door. “It seems that they are here. ‘Stop writing right now!!!’ They yell. I ignore them. ‘Do it now!!!’ I still ignore them. As one of them takes out their gun, I smirk. My wish was about to become a reality. ‘You, John Lockhart, are suspected of conspiring against the state. We, therefore, are enforced to take your life.’ The soldier says. The barrel of the gun is cold on the back of my head. I am surprised they have not disabled my arms, as I’m still able to write the events that are occurring at this very moment. ‘Any last words?’ asks the soldier. ‘Thank yo……….’” A gunshot in the dark.