The World Around Us Is Breaking
I felt a heavy shove on my back as I tumbled into the person in front of me. Every side of me was confined as the large crowd surged forward in to the quiet street, chanting and shouting as they went. My father towered behind me, gently resting his hands on my shoulders and guiding me down the narrow, cobbled streets and he was followed by my mother and my younger siblings.
“Father, what’s going on?” I asked although I doubted if he could hear me as my voice was little above a whisper and the noise of the crowd overpowered everything else. I followed the bustling crowd as they made their way through the winding alleys which led towards the main plaza in our town and it also contained our town hall where the president regularly held meetings which I was too young to attend.
As we entered the plaza, the crowd dispersed around the outside of the market area and headed straight to the town hall where the president stood surrounded by bodyguards who were armed with rifles and knifes. The chants from the people grew louder and my father began to call with them but me, my mother and my siblings remained quiet, unsure of the situation my father was involved in.
The air was chilly and an ice cold breeze shot down my back and I shivered. I was shunted into a gap between my father and a large, overweight male who smelt very strongly of beer and nicotine. I stared in awe at the town hall, its royal drapes flapping lightly in the delicate breeze.
The president emerged from the glass doors at the top of the staircase and slowly made his way to meet the crowd, adjusting his waistcoat and jacket every few steps. He was a chubby man and his light brown hair fell loosely to one side of his face. He pushed up his glasses using the little finger of his left hand, before loudly tapping on the microphone, sending an inaudible screech through the town hall.
The crowd's calls died down slightly as everyone in the square anticipated the speech that they were about to hear from the president.
With a loud cough and splutter, he began his talk: "Good people of Fyre City, I come before you today to explain the passing of the new law." A few members of the crowd booed, my father inculded. So, all this commotion about a law....How bad could it be?
The president continued, "It has been decided that all residents shall have a single tracking rod implanted into the skin in the upper arm when the child reaches the age of five." The crowd was silent. I stood open-mouthed. Why were they trying to control us so badly; why do they want to? The microphone's horrible echoing boomed through the town sqaure as the president contined. "This tracker will only deactivate if the weaer is confirmed to be deceased or is removed by the surgeons who implanted it." The boos from the crowed roared back into life and I clutched onto my father's leg. The president then went onto say that anyone who was caught removing or removing anothers will be jailed for an act of treason against the Nation.
The President's glare scanned across the audience and he clapped his hands tightly together and began to rub them slowly but meaningfully. He then returned to the microphone where he coughed to regain his listener's attention again.
There was a long, quiet and awkward pause.
"May I invite young Nieve Stone to join me?" I looked around in horror. Me? ME? What on earth did he want me for? I had not done anything to violate any of our laws in the sixteen years I had lived in Fyre City, however strict they seemed to be. My father looked down at me, as did many others before they split in front of me and created a clear pathway that would lead me straight to the President's side. I was reluctant to move and my feet felt like they had been glueded to the concrete floor underfoot.
I was shunted from behind and I jerked forward, glancing back at my father who refused to give me eye contact for some unknown reason. I wanted to shout out that I was not going to move but my mouth was dry and the only sound that escaped was a whisper that I could bearly hear myself.
Wishing to confront those who were chanting for me to walk onwards, I turned to look over my shoulder.