Chapter Text
I can still remember that fateful day, when everything fell apart. We first thought those people had much fortitude, standing up against the government like that. I was one of millions who’d supported this organization. They’d called themselves Freers, claiming to overthrow our government, which was adulterated by corrupt officials.
They weren’t wrong, but we should’ve known better that it was all a guise. After the Freers took over, they immediately deployed military troops to each city, though most were stationed on almost every block in the capital of Zehava. As if that wasn’t enough, taxes were augmented and soon, the poor became poorer and the rich became richer.
We’d tried to rebel. Once. Once was enough to realize we never stood a chance against them. I was a rebel once, being ambidextrous becomes quite handy when you’re fighting with two daggers. Now, bereft of all my friends and family because of our own failure, my only option is to find a way off of this cursed world.
I barely sleep, because every time I close my eyes, I can see my cousin staring at me, mouth agape with a bullet through her chest. I hear the taunting gibes of the soldier who’d shot at her. My sister’s dour expression when I return home with blood on my hands and our cousin nowhere in sight. She left the house after curfew the next day and I never saw her again. Except, it’s not really our home anymore. It never was. Even before the Freers came along, Zehava was a planet filled with crime, and you never know when the next time you'll find a thief in your house trying to get some food. The Freers just made everything worse. You can’t leave your city unless you’re rich enough and know the right people, there’s a curfew every day, and everyone you know has lost someone else.
Our only hope is to wait for help that will never arrive, to wait for a group of people brave enough to rebel for the second time. After all, hope is all we have left.