I sat in the classroom listening to the other students give presentations on the book reports they read.  Most of them were pleasant except for the stories where everything ended out wonderfully.  That’s not real life.  Nothing just fits into place perfectly, there’s always confusing parts or loose ends.  

As my classmate comes to sit down, I look at Aiden.  His blue eyes stare into mine and his blonde hair stands out among the class.  

“People came to my house last night,” he whispers.

I gulp.  A stocky, burly man came to my house and forced me into a car last night, telling me that if I told anyone about the conversation we had, especially the police, he would kill my family and friends.

“I know he went to your house too, because I followed him,” he stops. “Do you think he’s lying about us being tortured since we’re discussing this.

“Quiet back there, you two,” the teacher shouts.

“The bomb that went off in Washington, D.C. was totally the government’s fault.  There is no way China bombed us, especially since we were trading oil with them.”

Aiden thinks for a moment about what I said.

“But don’t you think that if people’s memories were changed, we wouldn’t be petrified of World War Four?” He says.

“Quiet!” The teacher shouts again.

Aiden continues anyway, “I’m going to meet him.  How bad could it be?”



I woke in cold sweat, remembering how Aiden and I discussed how the future of the United States was in our sixteen year-old hands.

Running my fingers across my injured side, I tried to remember how Aiden and I got out of the agency, but I couldn’t remember.  I just remembered being in an interrogation room and having the strongest feeling that Aiden had died.  That part of my memory seems to be lost, like most of my memories, lost from being changed and altered from the machine.

The sun’s rays seared into my back, giving my fair skin sunburn.  I looked around for Frank but he was nowhere to be seen, neither were his two buddies.  In fact, the entire camp which was filled with tents and trucks earlier that afternoon, was completely gone.  The only thing left was right in front of me: a bottle of water and a loaf of bread.  

Wow, well aren’t they a generous group.  I thought.  

All I needed to do now, was find Aiden and release the information on the flashdrive we stole to the public so they would know…

“UUGH!!” I shouted. What was it?  What did we need to share with the public?

I crawled on my elbows and forearms to the bottle of water and let the warm water seep down my throat.  Pouring some water on my palm, I used it to rub onto my chapped lips.  I pulled myself to my feet and grabbed a slice of bread.  Noticing the sand texture, I was in Arizona.

At this moment I was happy that I remembered what my father had told me about survival in the desert.  After all, he was a soldier that would be sent overseas to fight World

The End

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