• Chapter 1

    I remember a time when life was simple. We, the teenage generation, would all laugh, mess around, and do whatever it took to fit in. The only thing we had to worry about then was bad grades, drugs, and cheating boyfriends. God, we were all so blind to what was going to happen.

    I won’t tell you what year it is, or even where I live. If this book gets into the wrong hands, I don’t know what damage it could cause, so minor details like that don’t matter. I should start by saying that outside contact is illegal. That includes contact in relevance to countries, time paradoxes, and whatnot. I don’t know where I’m sending this. I just hope it helps.

    The world now is a scary thing. While my generation worried about the hologram exam in eighth period, the adults including our parents were making a horrible mistake. The fools were voting on a new leader. The one we had before was fine. Barbra Harginson made sure that taxes were fair and that there were no wars. She was a good president of the United States.

    Well, if you can still call it the United States. Some are calling it the Un-United States now. The president in charge of this new country is the man that the adults voted for, Robert Raket. He is the billionaire president who could buy, or maybe even threaten, any congressmen into passing his laws. The first law was to eliminate terms for office. He wants to stay president his whole life.

    That was when the adults first began to doubt their choice in votes. He then brought back the 18th amendment, prohibition of alcohol. The uproar from that even reached us teenagers in our little worlds. Then it seems that Mr. Raket doesn’t play nice with other countries. The reason outside contact is now illegal.

    Cold War II. Not WWIII, no. No, it’s just a second Cold War. Electron bombs [or just E-bombs] are being pointed at the U.S. and no one knows who wants to push the button. Who cares? All that matters at this point is that Raket is ready to bomb anyone if anybody tries anything. Everyone is ready for fighting now. Little kids are now being taught how to make and throw grenades.

    No one will say anything against the president. Anyone who does might as well paint a target on their forehead for the snipers. Even the snipers are scared of being sniped. That’s why, in this day and age, it’s better just to blend into your surroundings. It makes life easier. It’s always easier to hide in the dark like rats.

    Every morning, I’m sure some mother somewhere thinks of her worst fear. The mother’s fear that their baby might not wake up the next morning; or worse, something will happen to them, the parents, and their precious child will have to defend themselves in a world that is no longer for children; A world where you could die at any moment, either at the press of a button or the pulling of a trigger.

    That was why I suppose I don’t want kids. There was a time, I remember now, that I wanted to have a family around me, warm and loving. Everything’s too dangerous, though. I would always be scared for them, always having those motherly fears, except in this case they were all a possibility.

    I’m sure you are reading this thinking about how bitter I am. The only response I have to that is that you would be too. Life is no longer the happy, cheery place I remember. In fact, sometimes I wonder if one day I’ll wake up and it will all be gone. That the war, the president, the fear, the anger, the hatred, will have disappeared while I slept and I was just a happy, slightly naïve teenager.

    That was the first thing I checked that morning when I woke up; but no, I was still the ghoulish adult I had been when I laid my head down on that pillow. The thin summer sheets were twisted around my legs, a sign of another nightmare I had no memory of. I got those a lot. I had then jumped out of bed, as I normally did, and slid my feet across the floor in a walking motion to the kitchen.

    A note was on the fridge, one with my name on the top telling me what I needed to buy. I suppose this brings me to the subject of names. I don’t want any information too personal, such as name or age written in this thing. All the names I will write will be fake, besides of course, the a*****e that started this whole mess, Mr. Raket. I will call myself by the name Lila, for the sake of getting this information down.

    Anyways, the top-most note was ripped off. It shocked me a bit because I had not done so, but if I had not, who did? I forget now if I had actually seen the man at my table and just ignored him until he spoke, or if he was really that smooth.

    “Hello, Lila.” The deep voice rang in my ears, “How are you today?” I’m thinking that it was the latter of the two, because as soon as I heard the voice, I let out a high-pitch shriek.

    When I stopped, the first words out of my mouth were, “Who in the hell are you?”

    The voice spoke again, “That’s not a polite way to greet guests, you know. In fact, I should teach you to mind your manners. Considering this is a stressful situation, though, I will leave it be.” Now that I had listened again, I realized that the voice had a silky undertone to it, with the slight trace of a European accent that couldn’t be taken out completely.

    “You never answered my question.” I hissed.

    “So I didn’t. All right, I’ll play your game. My name is Kyle. No last names are a policy.”

    I soon found myself walking closer to the man named Kyle [well, or so I’m calling him]. In the light I could distinguish his features more clearly. The first thing I noticed was a straight, light-pink scar on his left cheekbone, giving him an intimidating look to his otherwise handsome face. Jet-black hair was combed neatly to frame his equally dark eyes. A noticeable smirk was plastered on his face when he caught me looking.

    “Like what you see, love?” He cooed.

    “No. Just taking in your looks for the police report, unless you want to tell me why you’re in my home.”

    “Ah, I see.” You could hear the disbelief in his voice, the egotistical creep, “Well, as you may know, we are in war.”

    “Really? I was completely unaware.” I rolled my eyes to add effect.

    “Ha ha. Well, I want to end it, as does everyone else besides your president. My country, if you haven’t realized that I’m not exactly from here yet, wants to end it fast. I know communication here isn’t linked to the ‘outside’ as everyone here oh-so-lovingly puts it. So we-”

    “Wait,” I interrupted, “What does this have to do with me?”

    Kyle gave me an irritated glare before continuing, “I’m getting to it. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, we came up with a plan. ‘We’ as in my little organization. Some people are from countries like mine, while others are from good ol’ America.”

    “So what’s the plan?”

    “If you would just quiet down, I’ll tell you. The plan is, since no one wants this war, we just have to take out the instigator. Namely, the president. That’s where you come in.”

    My voice came out as a whisper, “Okay. I don’t know how. In fact, I’m starting to wonder if this is a dream.”

    The man in front of me gave a mischievous grin, “I assure you, although I am a dream, you’re very, very awake. Well you see we’ve been looking for someone, namely a woman, who could help us get information. A friend of yours, one in the organization, said you were good at being ‘persuasive’. He recommended you personally.” A groan escaped my lips. There was a point in time when money was hard to get. Hell, it is now. Unfortunately, for a few months I had a job where all I needed to do was ‘persuade’. It’s not something I’m proud of and I hated people bringing it up.

    “Whoever the hell this ‘he’ is, tell him he’s a dead man.” I growled.

    Kyle smiled again, “Why don’t you just tell him yourself, love?” At this point, he stood up, taking his jacket that was right next to him. Flirtingly, he edged closer and put his hand on my chin. I pinched his wrist, making him let go.

    “I won’t tell him myself because I won’t be joining you guys.” That was when I noticed the stupid grin on Kyle’s face fade. It would have been a great, except now he looked even more menacing than before. The look only lasted for a moment, though, because he immediately began to grin again.

    He practically purred, “Oh, I can be very persuasive.” I can honestly admit that I wanted to gag, handsome though he was.

    “Not funny.”

    “Not trying to be funny. In fact, I’m telling the truth. I have the perfect reason for you to join.”

    “What’s that?” I swear if he had tried some sort of flirty crap, I might have killed him.

    “Oh, I hid five pounds of cocaine and other hard drugs in your house while you were sleeping and I have the police on speed dial.”