106 lines
6.4 KiB
Plaintext
106 lines
6.4 KiB
Plaintext
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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The Man
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-------
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The moonlight filtered through the bars of the cold cell. It
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hit the floor and illuminated the march of several insects that were
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scurrying along the concrete. Shallow breathing echoed in the room in
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time to the rising and falling of the man's chest. He was a little
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over 25 years old, and was fairly well built. There was something
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wrong though. He was not well, and the unusual frailness in his
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breathing made that truth evident. There was a soft sound from the
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forest outside. It started as a whisper and grew into a sharp whine.
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The man slowly sat up and looked out of the cell block. Nothing but
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the everpresent glow of the full moon met his eyes. The sound faded
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away into nothing and the silence of the night resumed its eternal
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presence.
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He was awake now. There was no returning to sleep. The dirt
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covered linens that were draped over the bed were in disarray. It was
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hot, very hot, and the man was sweating from the heat as he lay back
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down on the cot. Slowly his mind drifted off and thoughts buried from
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years of captivity were brought to the top of his conscienceness.
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A woman was smiling at him. Holding on to her side was a small
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child, his clothed dirty from hours of childlike play, and his hair in
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the no care style of all children. The woman was waving at him, and
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the little boy began to cry. It was very distant and blurry, but his
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vision continued. He was getting into a car, a breifcase tucked beneath
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his arm. The car was a nice one. From the looks of the interior, it
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was well kept. The driver was wearing dark glasses and bore no facial
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expression. Without a word the car started and departed from the woman
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and child. He looked back through the tinted window and saw them again.
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He felt sad.
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The car was stopping. It was a lonely looking road. A small
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patch of trees stood off to the west. A field to the east and north.
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To the south was the road he had just travelled. The stop light was a
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fairly long one, and the driver appeared to be nervous. A sharp scream.
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Shattering glass and rough hands. The briefcase was ripped from his
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hand. He felt pain, and then he felt no more.
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His dream continued. Lights, bright lights surrounded him.
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Several masked men looked down on him. Again no expressions on their
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faces. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. Panicked he tryed to
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sit up. He was restrained. He could not move. A sharp prick in his
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arm, and darkness again reigned his life.
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Once more his eyes opened. He was looking down on the earth.
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He saw a small clearing surrounded by a fence. There was a flag flying
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above the tallest building. It was red. He saw himself in the middle
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of the clearing and watched as several well dressed men emerged from a
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builing. He was bound and was standing between two armed men.
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Conversation, yet he could not hear what was being said. Anger, and he
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saw himself spit on the shoes of one of the men. Pain, and he oversaw
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the brutal beating of his empty body.
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Yet he was still there. His mind focused again on reality.
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The heat was still present. The moonlight still shown upon the
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concrete. It had become a routine. Sleep as much as possible.
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Escape the pain and the suffering that were forced upon him day after
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day. He had to eat the putrid substances that they gave him, else he
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would starve. The food was not enough anyway. He felt himself dying
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on the inside, yet he continued to live.
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What had he done to deserve that fate? Nothing he whispered
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as he glanced longingly out the window. He had been called upon to
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"serve his country". He was leaving on a trip to Washington in that
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car he invisioned in his nightly dream. The beurocrats in the capitol
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needed him. Why? He didn't know. He was an ordinary person, an
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accountant, in fact. He had never had any connection to Big Brother
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before. He was excited, yet scared to go. What had happened? There
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was no trip. The whole thing was staged. The government did need him.
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There were 20 prisoners of war in Iraq who knew enough to hurt the
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country. He, and 19 others, were the pawns used in retrieving these
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POWs. The car accident? Staged. His wife and child mourned for a
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while when they heard that their husband and father had been killed,
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but they had moved on now. Why, do you ask? The man didn't know.
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The government was given its power by those who it governed.
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Yet, it has taken that power and used it to its own benefit. What
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had those prisoners known that waranted the political barganing that
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involved the man shown above? Not much, in fact. They were special
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because one of them was the newphew of a congressman. Had they been
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a regular American would this have taken place? Absolutely not. Yet
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it goes down in the classified records as an operation to preserve
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national security. I feel for the people that are lost everyday in
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the twisted system that we call a government. I feel for the people
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that are used daily so that an elected official can keep his pretty
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pay check and lack of responsibility to the laws that they pass. I
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feel for America. What can we do? I don't know, I really don't know.
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<EFBFBD>Illusionary<EFBFBD>
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, etc etc... =
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= Internet : lamb@sun1.coe.ttu.edu WWIVnet : 123@3314 =
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= VMB : 303.763.6377 Or On One Of The Boards Below... =
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Ionic Destruction 215.722.0570 Wulf's Den 303.699.WULF =
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= E.L.F. (NUP) 314.272.3426 Entropy 318.625.9666 =
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= Dungeon Sys. Inc. 410.263.2258 Celestial Woodlands 409.764.2843 =
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= Plan 9 716.881.3663 Logikal Nonsence 717.XXX.XXXX =
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= Purple Hell 806.791.0747 Club Baby Seal 817.429.4636 =
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= PuRe EViL (NUP) 905.XXX.XXXX The Keg 914.234.9674 =
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