The Root of Evil

[Carbine23]

This is a Novel, not a short story

 

Information coming soon

 

About: It's a plague to all who live in it. The Xavian Empire is a trap to those who live in it. The Fascism and Communism brainwash the new children of society and leave those who rebel hopeless. Nobody may enter its walls, and nobody shall leave it either. The children of Xavia love their leader, and adore him. Most do. It takes one person. Just one person to destroy the evil it produces.

 

 

Part 1

 

Chapter 1: State Of Happiness

 

The loud, obnoxious sound coming from my alarm clock woke me up instantly. I open my eyes and stare straight towards the blank ceiling. It was just another normal day in the empire for me. Once I stretched out my arms for about 3 seconds, I quickly rolled out of bed. The sheets were all messy, and misplaced. It was by law to have perfect bed sheets in the morning and obviously this wasn’t the case. It must have taken about 6 times to do it, but finally my bed sheets were perfectly lined up. Proud of my accomplishment, I strolled to my closet to put on some clothes. I had 10 pairs of clothing in my home; five for school and five for the outdoor life. I quickly put on my school uniform which composed of black dress pants, a black belt, a black long sleeve shirt, black overalls and a fine black jacket to put over it. By law we could only button the bottom two buttons, and leave the top 2 untouched. If we were caught with one button, then we would be in serious trouble.

 

I wondered what was for breakfast. Momma was cooking some Cyrix cereal. In our empire, Cyrix cereal was a special breakfast grain meal made to deliver a strong brain and to keep everybody in focus. I refused to eat it because of its bland taste and it made my stomach hurt; although about 90% of the empire ate it everyday and every morning. I went with the casual one egg cooked, sunny-side up. After gulping the nutritious egg, it was time for me to go to school and meet up with my friends.

 

I walked outside of my house and stood by the dirt road. The land around me was fertile, plain and barely any other homes around it. Most people lived in the cities however. Nothing but a few farms surrounded me in the province of Roquewood. At last the bus pulls up to my foot and opens its doors to let me in. I stood in place and gave my salute to the driver.

 

“I thank my lord and leader Xandar for this bus!” I screamed out loud to the bus driver while saluting my hand over my forehead.

“Alright Larkster, you may enter,” the bus driver said in a lousy voice.

 

I dragged my feet up onto the steel bus steps hoping to get a seat. Looking at everybody’s smiling face was ever so happy and warm hearted in the morning. The Larkers filled the bus with their creepy smiles and support for our great dictator, Xandar. You see, Larkers are children aged from 15 – 20. Lark school was meant for that age group and I myself was an age 19 Larker. The age of Larkhood was ever so hard, special and depressing. Anyways I found a seat on the bus next to my best friend Damian. I placed my buttocks onto the cold, frozen, stable seat and then pulled down the safety bars. Every Larker or child on a school bus must wear a big thick safety bar. The bar pulled down from the top and kept you stabled. Don’t even think about unbuckling it because there was always at least one Uriyan Soldier on the bus observing us. So most of us stuck to the rules and kept our safety belts on.

 

The bus had Telecasts on it too. They were screens that produced images of live events on it. Everyday the great leader Xandar would make a good morning speech to us. After he finished, we would all scream “Hail Xandar, the great and powerful!” All the Larkers would get a blood rush through their body as they screamed non-stop “Hail Xandar!” After 20 minutes or so, the bus ride ended and let us off in front of The Justice Clarx Lark School. I could have foreshadowed just like any other day that this day was going to be great.

Edited January 21, 2009 by Carbine23

[Tony Branston]

Well, decent at any rate.

 

Your writing seems to lack a...how do I say this...flow. Things like this bit-

 

"The sheets were all messy, and misplaced. It was by law to have perfect bed sheets in the morning and obviously this wasn’t the case. It must have taken about 6 times to do it, but finally my bed sheets were perfectly lined up."

 

Seem a bit choppy.

 

And I'm wondering if there's any particular twist on this from other totalitarian/dystopian settings.

 

First time I've tried reviewing something on here that didn't suck...

[Carbine23]

Chapter 2: Discipline

 

At about 8:50 PM the bus arrived at Lark School. The pressure from the seatbelts released and let us free. Everybody got out of their seats, grabbed their books and waited in line to get off the bus. As each kid left the bus, they gave a salute to the portrait of Xandar in the front of the bus. Now I may have shouted loudly “Hail Xandar!” before in such a patriotic manner, but I always felt weird about him. I couldn’t describe it but it was an intense feeling, like something that rushed or forced down your throat. I don’t know what it was, but looking at the portrait of Xandar sent a small chill down my spine. It could have been the black eye patch on his right eye, the greenish-gray uniform he was wearing, or just that haunting look he gave you.

 

Well each Larker walked right into the school, wearing exactly the same thing. Female larkers wore long skirts, with extremely thick stockings, a white shirt, with a gray jacket over it. That’s what we called attractive in Larkhood. Well, we had 2 minutes to get to class once we walked through the doors of education. My classroom was right near the door so I was never in a hurry. While every Larkster was running like hell through the hallways, I just simply took a stroll to my History class. And may I tell you that my teacher, Professor Vassilli didn’t take sh*t from students that were late. Discipline was something you didn’t want in this school.

 

“Hello children of the empire! Welcome to another amazing Monday of school. I won’t even bother taking attendance because you should all know that if you are missing from school then severe punishment will take result,” the professor said in a very threatening voice.

 

“Hello Larksters of Justice Clarx Lark School. Would you all rise for the pledge to our great leader?” the announcements said through the classroom speaker.

 

Everybody got up from their seats and raised their right arm against their head. They awaited the announcer to begin the pledge.

 

“I pledge to thy Xander, o great leader of the Xavian Empire. He is my savior, my guardian, my king and my hero. His wings guide thy people to a nation of power, wealth and knowledge. His state of power succeeds enemies who vow to destroy the wealth of a nation. I pledge to thy Xander, the righteous one, and the guardian of all who live under his rule!” the students pledged.

 

After the victorious everyday morning pledge, everybody gave a final salute and sat back down in their seat. Right when I gave my salute, I felt debris of dust flow right into my nose. The pressure was so strong that I began to have an itchy sensation. Finally I just had to let it out, so I sneezed right to the floor. All the mucus and pressure from my nose was lying in a puddle of disease on the floor. Professor Vassilli’s face turned red and so did his eyes which gave a haunting stare towards me. The professor walked towards me with his hands behind his back. I stood still in place, waiting for any action to be taken upon me.

 

“What is your name, child?” Professor Vassilli said to me, grinding his teeth.

“Aidon sir!” I saluted him with a shout

“Sneezing in the middle of a great pledge is an insult to the great Xander!” he screamed into my ear.

 

That filthy light brown beard of his was just centimeters away from my chin. His ugly rotting skin and teeth gave off a scent which peaked into my nose. His spit also landed on my right cheek and some went into my ear.

 

“I’m…I’m sorry sir,” I said in an innocent voice as my face squinted.

“Sorry isn’t enough, Larkster. Only 19 years old and you still don’t know the rules!” he screamed at me as he took out a discipline stick from behind his back.

 

The stick was black, about 2 inches wide and 10 inches long. It was small but could easily hurt you. It was a favorite tool used among all the professors at the school. In the middle of all this confusion, the next thing I know I’m hit with the stick right on the top of my head. The force pushed me down to the ground and I quickly covered my head to protect myself. He brought another blow with the stick and this time it swung right against my back. The force knocked me down to the ground, with my stomach facing his ugly face. He then took one more swing towards my stomach with impenetrable force. Right when that stick hit my stomach, about 2 small cups of puke came streaming out of my mouth, leaking onto my face and making puddles on the floor.

 

Professor Vassilli turned around and went straight to the front of the classroom, putting the discipline stick back onto his table. He started his lesson for the day and everybody forgot I was even on the floor at that point, no matter how much noise I made. For the rest of class I stayed there on the floor in a puddle of discipline. I would only get the wrath of the discipline stick again next period for having messy clothes.