4.4.537

The sun was blemished by the clouds, but I could still feel a hint of its warmth. The sea continued to send drops on my window, leaving behind white residue.

I breathed and closed my eyes, leaving nothing but the sound of my lungs and the water. Silas and I got home in the morning, sneaking through the back of the estate. I was exhausted, my legs were sore, but in a seren type of way. I kept waking as I attempted to reclaim my sleep, but every time I did I was only a few minutes away from the last. It must've been the adrenaline still rushing through my blood, the excitement of sneaking away from home.

I looked at the lock.

6:40 a.m.

Not time for breakfast just yet.

I tried to sleep longer, staring at the horizon from my window as a way to ease my mind to slumber. Just when I managed to drift off again, I was awoken by the sound of clattering in the hallway.

I looked at the clock.

9:30 a.m.

I've nearly missed breakfast?

How?

It felt like I hadn't closed my eyes at all. I got up and hurridly dresses myself in something bland. I sped up towards the staircases, trying to hurry to the dining room before Roland would notice. I turned into the lobby, just as Julian was exiting out of his room. He had a Bloodmoon in one hand; a type of cigar that gave off a red color vapor, and a glass of orange juice in the other.
He smiled when he saw me, and raised his glass up greet me,"Good morning Kido. Roy was just on his way to bring you breakfast."

"Don't worry, I'm going downstairs right now."

"Don't wear yourself out," Julian advised, raising the cigar to his lips, "Roland doesn't expect you to join us."

"I'm feeling well enough to join," I discerned, "I should head down there right away."

"Hold on there Kaur..." Julian paused, his green eyes locked onto mine. He tugged me close by my sleeve, his face stern and serious. I was confused, but followed his instructions. He took a deep breath and continued, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." I lied.

"You sure?"

I shifted on my foot, "What are you trying to get at Julian?"

"I just want to make sure you're alright. I...-I feel at fault for not seeing you last night."

"fault?"

"Yeah. I should've stepped in..."

"Julian no." I shook my head.

"Come on... I haven't exactly been the most persistent older brother."

"Please, I don't want to talk about it."

"Well we should. Yesterday was uncalled for."

"It's fine."

"We all make mistakes. I don't want you to stop being a kid."

"Do you really care, or is it because Roland put you up to it?"

"No," Julian insisted, "This has nothing to do about him."

I glared at him, but allowed my muscles to ease, "I just want to be alone." I spoke earnestly.

Julian creased his lips. I didn't wait for his reply. I turned and hurried down the stairs, my adrenaline rushing through me. I heard him mutter my name, but I didn't look back.

I couldn't cry over spoiled milk. It was old news.

I walked through the lobby and into the Lounge Room, which was shared with a breakfast bar and a hallway to the kitchen. Silas was sprawled out across the chaise watching the flat screen.
Soren was sitting at the island counter with his laptop, preoccupied with his own fixations. Yonic was texting away on his cell phone, partially unaware of his surroundings. Soren was the only one that greeted me when I walked into the room. I took no offense to the others. He probably did it out if habit.

Roy came out of the dining room with a plate, apparently fixed for me.

"Woah." He said crossly, "So you're just not going to wait for me? After all this hard work."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to assume I was sleeping in." I disdained.

"Did you have trouble finding the door?"

"No. I was just indecisive."

"With?"

"Why the interrogation?"

"Because I'm nosy."

"Well don't be." I disclosed, taking the plate out of his hands and placing it over the island counter.

"Uh huh, right." Roy implied, crossing his arms.

I picked at the breakfast on my plate, trying to find my appetite. The housekeepers prepared scrambled eggs, french toast and sausage patties.
I came to the conclusion that I couldn't force myself to finish, but I still sat there, thinking. Even though the day was early, I was feeling tired.

Silas eyed me only once, possibly trying to read my silence. I turned my eyes from him, not wanting to appear too optimistic. Julian looked down at my arms from across the room, and said something to Silas. Silas glanced at me, his whispering far from unoticeable.

I turned back to see him exchange a judicious glance with Julian, before becoming transfixed on the screen again. Julian began speaking with the others, so I ignored their conversation. Soon I blurring everything out into my own thoughts.

"I'm Lauren Chase, and welcome to channel nine-teen, twenty-four hour news stories."

Music started in the background. I looked behind me at the screen out of curiosity. An Anchor-woman stood behind a large desk, talking and looking through papers. Her face was surreal, like the rest of the higher working class. It resembled a mannequin; small, petite and without a single wrinkle or fold. Her hair was fluctuate, too perfect to be that of a human.

"I wonder how much it costs to get a face like that." Julian remarked sarcastically.

"Elites." Silas mumbled.

The Elites are the leaders of Terra, a council of men and women who control the government and it's power. They're often considered the most beautiful human beings on the planet, though whether or not they were human remained controversial.
They were worshiped, like kings and queens of Gaius. Their words were law, their preference was absolute, and their power was limited only to the likes of their own.

Due to such, many higher class officials and citizens have made it a custom to mimic their beauty as much as possible. Going to the extremes of body modifications and even voice rendering. It was uncommon for anyone to be "natural" unless they were of the lower class.

But everyone knew we were favored because of Roland name, so it didn't apply to us.

Once the woman finished broadcasting the entertainment content, she continued on to the public affairs. The usual coverage.

"Rioters demanding sovignerty of district five."

"Terra's crime rate remains at only %1.5. Crimes expected to decrease more with the total of district five and increase death penalty."

"Elites to celebrate tenth year without famine."

I blurred out again, staring blankly at the table, everything absent from my conscious. I went to the sink and got a cup, filling it with tap water. I leaned against the counter, and gazed over at the TV again.
The woman had stopped and turned from the camera, her expression changed. A new title ran across the screen, Elites Launch Anti-Terrosim Force in District-Five.

"This morning at ten A.M. rioters were seen out in the open ravishing the streets, once again, in district five..."

The woman spoke quickly, fading into the background of some sort of video footage. It was slightly blurred, but enough to make out what was going on.

"...We're currently getting a live stream of the action from one of our pilots."

A crowd stood in the middle of a skylane, armed with blunt weapons and class-2 artillery. In comparison to the other forces, they wore little to no armor. At the most, they used scrap metal as shields, which will provide little support against a firearm. There was a mixture of frail women and children within their ranks, hand in hand, all defending what they had left to survive. A barricade of swat cars surrounded them, some laying tossed over and considerably damaged.

As I walked behind the sofa, twenty Officers led by a phalanx of SHURA Initiates surrounded them. They all wore dark grey uniforms, pure as coal, as to distinguish themselves from the other officers.
On their shoulders was a gold lion crescent, the representation of Terra's dominion. In their hands were stunwhips, specially made for detaining and immobilizing particular threats. SHURA members were only called upon for special operations only, so why such protocols were called upon remained a mystery. Initiates were especially organized for home invasions and terrorists.

These people hardly looked like terrorists...

They looked helpless and without options.

I could hear voices and radios in the background, echoing demands and attempting to draw order. As the helicopter circled around the scene, the camera shifting to a different angle. Silas, Roy and Julian silently focused on the screen, their faces grave as stone. Eventually Soren and Yonic joined them, leaning on the armrest.

"After a long fought dispute, upon this morning District five has officially been approved to secede from the state of Tara. With that, Ladon has demanded the return of all that belonged to their domain. This includes resources and food founded under Tara's leaders. After much refusal and lash backs under District Five's rebellion, Ladon has declared war on their terrorism."

Terrorism?

Were they really painting their actions so extreme?

The people looked sickly, covered head to toe in filth and grime. They looked as if they had very little to give, the burden of poverty taking it's last string upon them. What would a few resources scavenged off the ground do for our already high functioning society?...

And what will Tara gain out of purging them?...

To set an example?

To turn their decomposed bodies into fertilizer?

My chest began to welt up in anger just thinking about it. The merciless faces behind the police helmets, the possible joy they were recieving by killing off the poor as if they were a burden.

Do they have no sympathy?

Not even for the children?

The hungry mothers?

Where was the humanity? Where was the justice?

I watched as the officers yelled fiercely, threating one last time for the crowd to stand down. Despite their large disadvantaged they stood headstrong with pride. They screamed at the top of their lungs:

"Restitution for the Poor! Elite council wants death for more!"

I could see the fog from their breathes rise through the cold in unison, like a myriad of spirits. They showed no fear, despite their fate.  Their willpower was strong, but outnumbered by the rich.

Their voices will only reach blind eyes and deaf ears.

This would be the end of their protest.

A bullet cracked through a man's chest, the sound jolting my body. I couldn't tell if it was an accident or intentional, but a man fell down, blood hosing from his lungs. A large commotion swept through the scene as the rebels became unnerved with panic.

They've lost their faith in communication.

The chantings paused and then turned into screams.

The whole thing was inhuman, the farthest from it. One after another, the blasts rained down on the people. Right in front of families and children...

In front of the world.

What souless person would allow this..

"This can't be done." Roy glowered.

"Calm down Roy," Cale hushed.

"How could they film shit like this?" Roy chided, "In peoples homes? On national television?"

"Shut up!" Julian ordered, looking behind himself to make sure Roland wasn't near. Roy backed away and began pacing back and forth in frustration.
Yonic looked at him cooly, seemingly unaffected by what was going on.

The SHURA initiates started moving out, charging over the barricade. The officers followed suit with their guns raised high, devoted to executing out their mission thoroughly. A few muffled words exchanged among them as they readied themselves; sure that their efforts would get succeed to the very last drop.

More bodies fell.

The rebels collapsed, their arms and legs, limp and ragged in awkward inhuman positions. I could hear their bones cracking, metal running through flesh and cartilage. Blood spurted everywhere, painting the asphalt with a rotten crimson. They dropped lifelessly, some clinging onto eachother, others running away. There were children, women, and men, none if them left for mercy under the Elites wrath.

I shut my eyes and glanced away, my chest fluttering with affliction.

It was an indescribable horror.

The commentary from the Anchor woman was the most callous:

"Hopefully that will be the last we will see of these terrorists." She spoke proudly, as if they were rats finally being cleared out the nest.

The room fell dead with silence...

The terror we lived amongst shamelessly came to light.