Write a story that is dystopian
This isn’t from the exercise book and because I’m not sure exactly what I have in mind here is the prompt:
Write a piece that is 10,000 characters or less (I put the settings at the highest allowable) about something that is dystopian in nature. I wanted to keep it broad so that it would appeal to more users. So at its most simplistic what I am saying is writing anything that has element of dystopian fiction in it, this could include anything. As long as that general rule is followed we should not have a problem.
How the debate will work:
First Round acceptance
Second Round is Story
BOP is 50/50 (since it is a writing exercise not an argument)
Guidance for Voters:
Pick based on the prompt as well as skill the person that has managed to create the better story.
Good luck to my opponent.
A car accident—it had been her fault, too much whiskey. Anyway, she died plus killed crossed the highway median and killed two cat, a badger raping an elk, and an elder woman in a Honda Civic.
She arrived in heaven surprised since she held a grudge against God for cumming in the Virgin Mary in her sleep that one time, ruining a marriage that never had a chance to get off the ground. Behavior like that today would shock even Ray Rice’s wife and that women can take a punch. If we are being honest, God had all the seductive skills of a frat boy with roofy connect. Plus drove his son to suicide, also known as bullying today, a felony in some states. Anyway, that is not the point. The point this chick died in car accident and arrived at heaven.
Returning to the story:
Heaven is exactly like those tacky scenes in Hollywood movies or animated cartoons. Everyone has impeccable white robes, white beards, and its foundation is built on a hell of a lot of clouds. Peter was guarding the entrance. “Leslie Greer?” Peter (i.e. the original Pope) asked.
She thought it was weird that there wasn’t telepathy in heaven but then again no one had invited a printer that worked every time either.
“Okay, the entry here says, you are a South Baptist from South Carolina. You were baptized at age twelve but later turned into a total slut with an appetite for nose candy and once had a third-way with a minor celebrity and took the lord’s name in vain thirteen and a half times, is that correct?” Peter asked.
“Thirteen and a half, how can I take the lord’s name in vain thirteen and a half times?” She asked.
“The half was due to loud moaning—but god just developed this sweet app where it shows all the possibilities of could have happened. It doesn’t matter—Steve Jobs designed it. God was stoked. He even allows Steven to use the Chinese labor from hell to make the new iPhones up here. Maybe that will teach those atheist communists a lesson.”
“Right, so why am I qualified to be here?” Leslie asked Peter.
“Hum…let me check. Okay, well it says you are here through the legacy program?”
“So it is exactly what it sounds like. Your parents were wealthy conservatives from the South, who put a lot of money into the collection plate on Sundays, so despite your rejection of the church and all that which we take into consideration, we decided ah…”who cares she is a white girl from the south, its cool.”
“Sounds better than hell, am I right? I don’t want to be burning and doing labor with the Chinese making iPhones.”
Peter’s index finger indicated she needed to come closer.
He whispered to Leslie: “Between you and me, hell has changed a lot. Satan launched a surprise attack a couple years back, some of his men annexed territory in the North and sodomized Jesus with crowbar. In the treaty, God recognized his sovereignty, both sides broke off all contact and from what I hear it is pretty sweet: all night parties, last night Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky did a magic show and you’ll never guess how he made a cigar disappear.”
“Wait…so what’s heaven like if hell is like that?”
“Yeah…sorry, and I probably should have mentioned this earlier, the legacy plan is actually more to boost our numbers. We have been having problems getting anyone here anymore. And…heaven is well…you know it is pretty sweet, like I mentioned IPhones and apps and stuff. Oh who am I kidding, Steve Jobs is in hell too, having an awesome time making some really good apps; we just have the knock-off version.”
“Peter…give me a straight answer, what is heaven like?” Leslie said in a tantrum.
“Okay, so unfortunately, we kept the basic structure in the Bible; basically it is like every church service you’ve ever been to, there is a lot of singing, worshipping, and potlucks where we praise God all the time.”
“So you’re saying heaven is more or less North Korea, where everyone praises the dear leader, where we lavish unwarranted praise and worship?” Leslie asked looking for escape routes.
“Yeah…basically…plus you know it being heaven and all no one sleeps!”
Janet Aris looked up at the stars.
I looked at Janet Aris.
Her pale skin gleamed through the darkness like snow on the grass. Fifteen and beautiful, with eyes the color of diamonds and hair as soft as a pillow, Janet said nothing as we lay beneath nature"s second finest canopy.
"Will I ever see you again?" I hated breaking the silence, but I had to know.
"I don"t know." That was another thing to love about Janet. She was always honest. "We"re going into the Construct tomorrow." It was a we that excluded myself. I wasn"t important enough to enter the Construct. "It"s not like I"ll be there forever," she continued. "Just until the government says it"s safe."
"Will they have stars there?" Janet and I loved stargazing. It would be some small comfort if, when she was there, we could still see the same sky.
"They have artificial stars," Janet replied. "They"ll turn them on at night, and the rest of the ceiling will be dark. It"ll look just like the real thing."
That didn"t quite sound right to me, but I"m no astronomer, so I didn"t say anything. Silence fell like snow. I didn"t usually like silence. It sounds like death. But I never mind it when Janet"s around. For us, silence is just another way of communicating.
From somewhere across the sky came the rumble like thunder. A dim wailing followed it. I put the annoying sound out of my mind.
"When you go," I told Janet, "I hope they"ll be other kids there."
"There will be," she said. "My mom said the Sanfords are going. And the Millards. The president"s daughter is going with him. I"d love to meet her!" She pauses. "But none of them will be like you."
"There"s only one me," I agreed, smiling.
Janet"s voice shook in the dark. "I wish you could come."
I listened to the wind whisper its secrets to the limbs of the forest. We lay on a hill, and the trees stood behind us like an army in the night. Their bodies remained rigid even as the wind whipped their arms back and forth.
"What about the moon?" I asked. It sat above us like a silvery eye. "Will they have the moon?"
"They"ll have one light that"s brighter than all the others," Janet said.
I made a face. "That doesn"t count."
"No, it doesn"t."
"Look there!" I pointed. "If you connect that star and that one, and then you go there"no, there"it looks a little like us." I didn"t have to look at her to know Janet was connecting the stars. Suddenly she cried out and threw her arms around me. She was cold from lying in the snow, but she was warm at the same time, and that seemed fitting somehow.
She didn"t say anything, so I didn"t either. I just returned her hug. We lay like that for a while, one rather than two, until she pulled away, and I suddenly felt very cold.
I had heard this story a thousand times, but I wanted to hear it again. It was important to imagine her happy. "Tell me what it"ll be like in the Construct."
Janet sighed. "I told you."
"Tell me again."
"I haven"t actually seen it."
Janet sighed again. "The government"s set up a large supply of fresh water. We"re supposed to farm most of our food. They"ll have an artificial sun to give off light and heat. I don"t know anything about farming, but I always thought it would be fun. I don"t know. Can you imagine me with a hoe? And there"s a game room and a movie theater with every movie in the world. They have a library with millions of books. Each family has their own little hut to live in. It never rains or snows, unless they turn on the water. The walls are hundreds of feet thick, and you can fit the Empire State Building inside. Standing up! It"s like"it"s like a city inside a fortress. We"ll be safe."
My eyes are closed. "What about the soldiers?"
"There"ll be soldiers," she said shortly.
"Maybe I could get in as a solider."
"You"re too young. Besides, I don"t like soldiers."
I"m not interested in opening up that argument again. Not tonight. Besides, I"d win.
The rumble like thunder repeated. The wailing followed. From somewhere off in the distance came a burst of light. It shimmered its way back to earth like falling glitter.
"Someone"s shooting off fireworks," I said.
Janet stirred beside me. "Yeah."
Thinking about fireworks popped a stupid question into my head. "What"s your favorite color?" In all the years I"d known her, I couldn"t believe I didn"t know her favorite color. It seems like such a trivial thing.
"Yellow," she said.
"Yellow?" I laughed.
"I see it as the color of peace," she said.
"Yeah, the peace you feel after peeing."
"Shut up!" She looked away from me, but I knew she was smiling. "What"s yours?"
"Like war," she said.
"Like love," I said. And blushed, but I don"t think she saw.
We were quiet again. The third rumble. Wailing. A second flash of light.
"If I could paint," I mused aloud, "I would paint this moment so I could have it forever."
"That's sweet," Janet smiled. She sounded tired. We had snuck out pretty early. But the sun would rise within the hour. And its arrival would herald Janet's absence. I found myself praying the sun would take its time this morning.
"Janet, don't go!"
I hadn't intended to say it. I knew the chances of that happening were the same as the sun being delayed. But the plea had been building inside me, and now it escaped without my permission.
Janet was quiet for a very long time. "I have to go," she finally said. "The government wants my family and I to be safe."
"Safe from what?" I protested. "And why you and not us?"
There was third explosion of light across the night sky. Janet watched it with forlorn eyes before replying. "I don't know. Maybe when I'm in there, I can find out. And then I'll come tell you." She took my hand. "It can be another one of our little adventures."
"If that's what the government thinks is best," I sighed. They knew what they were doing. If they wanted Janet to be safe, then the only thing to do was trust them. They knew best.
A fourth rumble in the distance. The wailing never ceased.
"When I'm older," I said, "I'll enlist. Then they'll let me in."
"I won't speak to you if they do," Janet vowed.
"What's wrong with soldiers? They protect us. They're protecting you."
Janet locked her knees. "They don't protect me."
"Of course they do! They're out there fighting in Russia right now, and -"
"They don't protect us from themselves."
The light from the fourth firework briefly illuminated the tears on Janet's face. I felt bad for making her cry. I dropped the subject. There was a fifth rumble, louder than the others, the complaint of the stomach of an army. The wailing faltered and then resumed again, like a baby demanding attention.
"Then I'll wait for you," I promised.
"No. Don't do that. We have no idea how long I'll be in there. You can't live your life waiting for me."
"I can't live my life at all without you."
Janet looked over at me. Her eyes watered, but the tears were gone. Her lips quivered. "That's sweet."
"Janet Aris." I could sense the daylight approaching. The sky was already a shade lighter. "Will you - kiss me?"
I could have died. I would have if she laughed. But she didn't.
"Yes," she whispered. And the stars ceased lingering in their orbits and bore witness to a moment so bright that they themselves would need to wear shades.
A sixth rumble and a fifth burst of light, but for all our passion, it may as well have been a burst of darkness. This time, though, the wailing finally stopped. The light, however, didn't fade out completely. Janet and I could see lazy plumes of smoke rising into the night sky, as if their darkness could prevent the sun's arrival.
"Some of the fireworks must have landed badly," I murmured.
"Hmm." She said. "I really need to go. My family's slot to enter the Construct is soon."
"Go, then." I smiled, trying to be brave. All night, I'd ignored the monolith, but the early rays of the sun cast an ugly gleam across its surface. I could see it in the distance, that monument to man's engineering, that flawless and impereable casing, that last champion of the rich and affluent.
Janet opened her mouth. If she gave a speech, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from crying.
"I'll miss you," was all she said, and that was somehow even worse.
"I'll miss you too," I choked out.
Janet turned and walked back over the hill. She didn't look back, and I didn't look away, not until she was out of sight, and maybe not even then. I would have sighed, but it wouldn't have been enough. There was an irritating whistling sound in my ear. I shook my head.
I would return home and wait for the government to give the all-clear. I would wait however long it took. The government knew what they were doing when they set up Constructs all across the country. When they carefully selected the lucky people who could enter. They would protect us.
The whistling grew louder. I looked up.
And the seventh angel blew his trumpet.
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