by Max Barry

Latest Forum Topics

Advertisement

Post

Region: Greater Middle East

Disclaimer: This is not a endorsement of the lost cause, that kinda dumb ngl. And this is a somewhat racially incentive post that takes place in 1950s Kentucky of all places. Like come on chief. Expect some bad words. Byeeee

The United States of America - Episode 1 'I pledge allegiance'

All the students dressed in proper school attire, the African teacher in a white suit. On the word the simple word 'respect' was written. The loud speaker soon buzzed before a voice began speaking, one whose voice was echoed across Illinois, despite us living in Kentucky. Though on the border. It had been issued in 1869 by the first Congress of the USA after the War of Southern Aggression. Which had freed former slaves take all the seats that once belonged the Confederates. As part of the bill that rebuild the south. Border states were set aside to be the engine states of northern states. Therefore we were not allowed to leave even the town of Paducah, without special permission by the appointed Governor. As the announcement came to an end, like each day the audio was cut for us. With the teacher the rest, that the boys would be in gym class which in other words was military training until they became of age. And for us it was knitting supplies for the war effort in Europe. After the teacher finished reading, we took the pledge of allegiance to the United States of America.

'I pledge allegiance to the United States of America, therefore I do solemnly swear that I have never voluntarily borne arms against the United States since I have been a citizen thereof; that I have voluntarily given no aid, countenance, counsel, or encouragement to persons engaged in armed hostility thereto; that I have neither sought nor accepted nor attempted to exercise the functions of any office whatever, under any authority or pretended authority in hostility to the United States; that I have not yielded a voluntary support to any pretended government, authority, power or constitution within the United States, hostile or inimical thereto. And I do further swear that, to the best of my knowledge and ability, I will support and defend the values of Abraham Lincoln, the Constitution of the United States, against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion, and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter, so help me God.'

Class like it had been since I could remember had been like this, we didn't really learn anything. Hell most people from the South could not even read. My grandparents were banned from even learning how to, my parents gained the right to literacy in their teens. With most parts of the South still not having granted full integration into the system. Leaving class to only reach nothing but groups of students, only the ones of African origin, getting into fights with one another. With scared appearing white students everywhere. Getting passed that, I threw myself out the building through the first door I saw it was that bad. Walking around the building to the front entrance, I finally found my friend Ashley. We both lived in the same living quarter, and had grown up like practical sisters. The walk back each day from school had been the same since Ashley had lost her ID card and did not have her number memorized so we could go not go down the main street where police were. Getting a new ID card would not be possible, as it cost 15,000 USD, something that Ashley's family did not just have. They barely made half a grand a year. Therefore each day we had to go down a street that was controlled by fighting gangs where occasional mugging, sexual attacks, and others were just normal. However, this time she had assured me that she had it memorized. We both were shaking in fear as we approached the officer.

He raises his hand up right, similar to how the Nazi salute was. "Hail Sherman!" he shouts. We both do raise our hands up, and repeat the same thing. Trying out best to hard our accents while we did to avoid our IDs being asked. "Where are the two of you headed?"

"Home sir." I jumped in, my accent was somewhat solid as the officer had paused for a few moments taking a second look at us.

"Alright, may I please see both of your ID papers please?" He said before waving to his partner to come over. Both men, armed with weapons seen on the battlefield of WW2, and given authority over the state due to martial law implemented by the President. We both were shaking, as I reached out to hand mine. Ashley looked horrified as she tried to muster her words together. The man ripped mine out of my hand, and looked over it. "Charlotte Sally Addington, 17, Kentucky, Southerner? Is that correct?"

"Yes sir." I said, kinda speaking in a guilty and quiet voice.

He scoffed before tossing my paper back at me. "And you?" He said he was soon joined by his partner, both facing down Ashley.

"Uhh I don't have my ID, but I can tell you my numb-" The officer who had looked at my paper, clearly not one for numbers, shoved down Ashley as his partner suddenly pulled his weapon out and pointed it on me. I quickly got down on my knees. Trying to pull my skirt as much as I could to avoid the scrapping of my knees, but it was to little avail. The constant shouts of 'hands behind neck' were deafening alone. All the windows around us had their blinds closed at this point, this was normal for them. The amount of stickers reading 'no trash allowed' in reference to southerners as we got closer to this part of our trip home was a nightmare. This area had been settled after the war by Yankees, who with the power of the government federal government in Boston have began out breading southerners in Dixie. Kentucky was one of the states who by 1950 had seen southerns become only 39% of its population. I was shaking where I knelt while the other officer placed his foot down on the stomach of Ashley, it was clear from her expression that he was pressing down on her stomach.

"Where is your ID you good for nothing redneck piece of shi*." He said as he spat down on Ashley's face, shouting louder and louder. "Where is your ID! Where is it!" Without even giving her a chance to answer, he pulled his foot of her stomach to give her a moment to breathe. That was before he grabbed a handful of hair, answered by nothing but screams of horror. As the officer began to drag Ashley toward the police car, slamming her head first onto the trunk before the officer let go of her head. The officer held her by the throat, squeezing as the life started to fade away from Ashley. Thankfully, the officer stopped in what seemed like moments before Ashley could have gone to the other side. "You little incest ridden whitey, ain't that all you really are? Now answer me, what the f*ck is your ID number."

Battling to catch her own breathe, she tried to speak through it. "95938739-" She paused on the last digit, looking at me as I looked back at her with tears running down my cheek. I could see the officer nod, as I screamed before the officer suddenly hit Ashley on the forehead with the back of his gun, knocking her out.

The screen fades for commercial before coming back.

Sitting on the little hill near the living quarter, also known as K5N9, had been build during the first world war by the Union to house southerners that had been moved from the big city's into areas that needed its resources exploited. Like all coal towns in the south, ours sucked as well. But at least the hill we had gave us a view on cars coming in, which is what Bill and I were doing. The officers after knocking Ashley out had said they would bring her by midnight back from the station after confirming her identity, and the hill was the best way to see if they were gonna follow through on that promise. My legs were curled up to my chest as I looked out to the road, Bill was walking in circles near me as he smoked his cigarette. Finally sitting down next to me after he finished it. "Do you really think they killed her?"

"Don't you dare!" I shouted back at him, not too loud though, we did not want the guards near K5N9 to see us as the punishment for going out past curfew was a month of forced labor in the mines. Something each southerner does at least once in their life with pride, like a right of passage in a way. "They are ruthless killers, they are sadistic. The way they beat her to a inch of her life, the bastards enjoyed the entire thing! They are animals..." I said whimpering

Bill placed his hand on my shoulder before speaking. "Look, just we gotta pray. I don't know what to say but we will be okay. She will be fine." We both sighed, as we knew that this would be our reality, just like it had been every southerns reality since we lost the war of southern aggression. After 20 seconds Bill gripped my shoulder one last time before speaking again. "You know, life wasn't meant be the way for us. It never was."

My head bowed another inch, any feeling of joy empty out of me. "We lost though didn't we!" I blurt out. "Didn't we?" I whimpered. The minutes began to turn to hours, in fact the two of us had fallen asleep on the hill. Waking up around 5 am when the coal miners began their day of work, we heard loud sirens that would be followed by a news briefing from the US Department of Southern Justice. As we both came to it, it was clear that both of us were thinking the same depressing thoughts. As we began to make our way down the hill back into town, it became hard to ignore the louder speakers after the US anthem had been played. We agreed to sit in wait between some trees as the announcement happened, preparing to sneak back in afterward so we could just get to school. Hoping to see if Ashley was okay after last night.

"Good morning the subject of Abraham Lincoln! Today is February second, 1950. We continue to fight the honorable people of Japan, and the mighty Germans in Asia and Europe respectively, and are closing in on both capitals we we speak. Our President William Tecumseh Sherman II is celebrating his 20th year in office today, as the grandson of US hero Major General William Tecumseh Sherman."

I could feel a shock go down my spine. Major General William Tecumseh Sherman had during the war pillaged 11 of the rebelling states, killed nearly 200,000 people during these raids. And forced for former slave owners to give up their wives, daughters, sisters, and mothers to their now free slaves. As well as their property. This was only the beginning of the systematic destruction of the south. He also personally oversaw the execution of Jefferson Davis.

"Who bravely pillaged the the rebelling states until they resembled the ruins of Mesopotamia. That thought the inbreed Cousin Sal to never rise up against Uncle Sam. Today you will be working from 6:00 am till 11:00 pm. This include a single break that will be granted at the behest of your commander officer that will be at minimum five minutes long. The United States of America this week has decided in honor of President Sherman the Second to increase pay for all workers to $0.50 per hour. Together we will build an image of the USA that will be ready for the next generation. Unfortunately we have those who go against this vision, each night hundreds of incest bred redneck trash are arrested trying to attack Uncle Sam once more. One is from your district. The follow ID holder will be hung in Abraham Lincoln Square this afternoon."

My stomach hurt, I feared the worst. Trying to hold tears back, I grabbed onto bills shoulder.

"Number 9, 5, 9, 3, 8, 7, 7, 5, 2, 8, 5, 0. That is number 95938752859, it belongs to 17 year old Ashley Davis. She has been charged with crimes against these United States of America, and will be punished like how all rebels will be." My stomach, my body, everything dropped for me. It was a black out. A few hours later I was coming to it as I was in the car with Bill. We were arriving at the hanging, as he noticed me waking up he finally spoke.

"Listen to me Sally, we must behave now. We will go and show her that we are praying in the name of the lord that she makes it .out with as little pain suffered as possible. Do not make a scene, do not do anything to got us in trouble. Please." We both looked at one another as we finally arrived, I simply sighed and nodded before the cab driver chimed in.

"Look I know I ain't supposed to talk to y'all but I am praying for your people." Said the African gentlemen. "This ain't right, brother and brother should not be doing this to one another. We are the same." We both nodded at one another, we handed him the change. Our looks told a story like no other, but the understanding formed was incredible.

Starting to make our way through the crowd, we got onto the base of a statue and got seated. As the hanging neared, so did the amount of police deployed was insane. I could count at least six snipers from where we were seated at the statue. "You know, this will be the same life our kids will live, and their kids will live. And so on." I sighed, the anger in me only brew as the Union anthem came on with everyone forced to rise to sing it. Even us.

"Today we are gathered." Spoke a man on the stage, who was standing close to a woman who had been wearing a bag like dress similar to what slaves used to wear. Along with a face covering. From the parts of her skin revealed to us, it was clear that the men had done far more to her than I would have ever guested. It made what happened to us going down that ally seem like a dream. I feared to imagine what the Union soldiers put the poor girl through just to get her on this stage. "For the execution of one Ashley Davis. Who betrayed our beloved nation. We all know that their is one true battle cry in this nation, and it sure as hell is not god bless the south, is it?"

"No sir!" Chants back everyone in the crowd, including us.

"What is it then you inbred scum?"

"Hail Sherman!" We shouted back, a it was clear most of us were not comfortable saying that.

"Very good, broken just like your ancestors were be Sherman's grand father did. God bless the United States of America, and may god bless the Yankee."

After he finished speaking, the crowd watching in horror as the bag was lifted off of Ashley's face. Covered in marks of beating, her face nearly unrecognizable. I tried my hardest to not scream out, only able to turn around and cry my soul out into Bill's chest. He also tried to hold himself back, tearing up just watching. For me I was losing my best friend, for Bill it was his fiance. Bill tried to get me to calm down as they prepared to hang Ashley, this was so that she could see us one last time before she was hung. So the last image of us she could see was not one of pain and suffering. So she could remember us until the day we were in her position being sent to join her in a heaven of resistance. Collecting myself, I began watching again as tried to make eye contact with Ashley. I could not do it, but I know that Bill dead. As we heard a sudden shout from Ashley that was barely audible due to the damage done to her throat. But I knew she was saying 'Bill.'. The crowd looking at her, as Bill suddenly got up and started shouting.

"Ashley! I will not le-" bang. thunder ripped through the sky, as blood splattered all over me. Bill's body now collapsing onto me, as the police began to attack the crowd. Beating and firing into anyone they say. Ashley's body, shot in cold blood by the person who had been speaking on stage. I ran for my life, these kind of events had broken down before. Last time they had killed over 2,000 people in it. I did not intend on being one of those people this time. Running past two different apartment blocks, I almost made my way into one before thunder ripped through the sky again. A whole appearing in the wall next to me as I looked at the gunman. A police officer. He held his gun straight at me.

"Down now or I will shoot, do not test me b*tch." I instantly did as he said, down on my knee, hands behind my back as I waited further instruction. Their was no point in fighting him. He got closer and closer to me before his gun was pressed on my temple. The heat of his gun was just a sign of the bloodlust in the Yankee. "Where are the Children of the Confederacy?"

I looked blankly at him. "I mean no disrespect sir, bu-"

Bam, he slapped me across the face. He pressed his gun on my forehead again. This time he made a gesture at his groin. "We all know what happened to that Ashley girl on stage before she had her skin burnt." He said before suddenly grabbing his groin, pressing the gun down even more, prepared to pull the trigger. "Where are the Children of the Confederacy?"

"I don't know!" I shouted, hoping he would finally understand. All I got instead was being kicked in the center of my chest by the officer. He got on top of me as I fell down, sat on chest. His knees holding down my arms. The gun to my forehead once again.

"Now listen to me girl, I will ask one more time. Where, are the Children of the Confeder-" The sudden of a sudden slam was heard before feeling of a rock was felt on my stomach, coming from where the officer on my chests backside was. Clearly a rock had been thrown at the officer. He got onto his heels as he started to get up, looking around to see where the stone came from. "Which one of you f*cks did that! I'm gonna kil you, and I will f*ck your entire family." He fired his gun a few times into the air, before he was met with another rock to the side of his head. I could see blood instantly begin to drip as it made contact, even some dripping down onto my face. "I will kill you!"

He got up, now standing over me, only my body between his two feet. As he turned his back to me, the bloody still dripping all across the floor as he began to open fire toward the direction of where the two rocks had come from. This happened a few more times before he began to reload, then another rock this time from a different direction hit his leg. Cussing them out a few times, he continues to reload his weapon. As he turned over my body, that is when I acted, tripping him. He fell right on his nose onto the side of the street, blood ran down his face. As he turned onto his back to get up. I was not standing over him, holding that same gun. "Listen officer, I don't know who those people with the rocks are." My hands were shaking, my voice shaking just as much. I was barely holding onto the gun. "I just want to go home, my two best friends died today. My dad was killed last month. My mother gone. I am the last one in my family please sir. Please I beg you, let me go. I just want to go." Tears began to run down my face as I suddenly saw a glimpse of compassion in the mans eyes.

"Listen. Very well, give me the gun, I will take you to my house, then we are going to get a letter and we will get you to a better place okay?" He extended out his hand, he could tell I was still horrified of him. He was in truth probably only 25, me only 17. "I'm Joshua, I'm from West Virginia." He said before suddenly speaking in a Southern accent. "My great grandfather fought in the War of Northern Aggression, trust me." After he said that, I handed the gun back to him. He took my hand, now speaking in his 'yankee' accent again. He led us to his house. I waited in the living room as he insisted on signing his name first before writing it. As soon as the ink dried. He prepared to write it before two knocks were heard on the door. "Hide in that room."

"Thank you." I nodded, and hid in the room he had pointed at. Watching from between the crack of the door, I could see two men dressed in grey trench coats enter the room. Both wearing a masks that had a Confederate flag on it as they entered the room. Closing the door behind them, with them nearing the table giving me a better view. I could see a knife being held to the side of Joshua by one of the men. With pistol being held in his direction by the other.

"Look at you f*cking Yankee, absolutely disgusting." He said as the man slowly stabbed the knife into Joshua. "If you make a single sound, you are dead understand me boy?" Joshua nodded. "Good, good." The mans shoulder was tapped by the one with the gun who pointed at the paper. "Ohh wait we got over here, signed 'Major Joshua Daniels'." The man looked up at Joshua with a sick smile. "So we a major fighting in good ol abe's army huh?" The man pushed the knife in deeper. "Tell me, what this paper for."

Joshua spoke very softly, and honestly. Speaking in that same southern accent he had with me before. "Look I will be frank wi-"

The man pushed the knife deeper in. "Don't you dare speak like my people you f*cking yankee."

Relenting, Joshua began to speak in his 'yankee' accent. "It is for a girl in this town to go up north to Boston. Away from this conflict, she hast nothing in the South."

The man looked intrigued, looking up at his partner. "Loot the place, and the usual." The other man nodded as he turned his attention back to Joshua. "You know who I am Mr. Daniels?"

"No sir." Joshua said, looking the man dead in the eye.

Suddenly, the man took his free hand to pull his mask off. Revealing a face that was cut up. One eye completely ripped out. An ear partially ripped apart as well. The man looked like a walking zombie. As he spoke, you could see the holes between his teeth, not a single healthy tooth in his mouth. "My great grandfather was born in this land, and died in the Confederate States of America. Today I live like the n*gro you replaced us with! Wake up! Look at my face, is this normal to you boy?"

"I don't write the law."

"But you execute it." He said suddenly pulling the knife out, as blood began pouring out of Joshua, he grabbed Joshua by the neck. "What were you saying by the way about the girl. Who she hmm?"

"I- I I don't have her name, but she is a good girl please. Let me help her, and I will let you kill me. Please." He begged, I was holding back not to go in to do something.

The man shoved Joshua onto the floor, before getting up. Holding his own gun this time to Joshua. "Where is the girl? Is she here? Is she next door. We will destroy this entire place, hell I'll take that paper myself and find a not so f*cked up face one of my friends to go to Boston and cause some damage. You are going to die either way."

"Show mercy, please."

The moan shouted, a load roar of anger and frustration that had built up. "MERCY? What mercy? Have you guys shown mercy to us in the last 100 years even once? No. You killed 20% of our people, you forced nearly half the remaining to have children with their former slaves. And even many were neutered afterward. You bred our race out of existence! All we did was fight to defend our personal freedoms, and for the last 100 years looking like what I do is considered lucky. Look at me!" A tear ran down the mans deformed face, but it looked like the most humane tear of all time. "I am a monster, I will never have the chance like to have a son or daughter to raise. Never a wife to love. Never be able to even have my own home, or anything to my name. This right here, hunting down people like you until I am the one in your position, that. Now that is my life. And again, I am lucky. I am the lucky one." He paused before turning toward his partner. "Done yet?"

"Yes sir." The man said, who had been going through everything. "Just a few more places then we are done." I started to panic, what would happen when he checked where I was. What would happen to me. Hopefully I would be able to get away.

The man let the tear fall down his face. He didn't mind, from his one eye that was still there. You could tell, he had left this world a long time ago. He lived simply to do as he said. He had accepted this. "Where is the girl?"

Joshua sighed. "I'm sorry girl." He said, as he pointed directly at where I was before I heard a bang. Thunder filling the room as the Joshua's head exploded across the living room. The man who had been raiding Joshua's stuff opening the place where I was hiding, both men dragged me to the table with the paper and handed me the pen.

"Write, say they taken you to Boston tomorrow."

Without asking, I finished the letter that Joshua had only signed. Finishing it to be clearly used by these men, I looked up at the man who had taken his mask off. "What will happen to me?"

"Well tonight you die." He said, has the other man had a notepad in his hand. "Well sorta." He nodded at the man who handed me a piece of paper.

That paper read 'Emily Bailey' I looked up confused at the man. "What is this?"

"What's your name girl?"

"Charlotte Sally Addington I recon." Bowing my head.

"Hmm. CSA, I like it. Alfred how is the sound of this for the paper tomorrow up north. 'Corrupt police officer killed by hero Charlotte Sally Addington, better known as CSA. However CSA was later shot by local police.' Add some words you know the rest." He said before looking at me, grabbing the paper and me by the arm. "We are leaving, this place. Alfred light it alright."

Alfred tossed his lit match into the room that had been filled with gasoline, along with countless of other rooms. The worst of all, Joshua's house the bottom floor of a 15 story apartment complex. With one apartment per floor. We all exited the apartment, and began to walk into a white van as flames started to engulf the building. When we got into the car, no one said a single word. I finally spoke. "Excuse me, uhh face man?"

The man without the mask looked at me, with the others in the car including the driver and one person next to me who was new both looked at me for a second. "It's Donald." He said, clearly annoyed with what I had said. "What do you need?"

I spoke in a sudden rush of words. What is going to happen to me? Where am I going? Who are you guys? What is Emily Bailey?"

Donald sighed. "You are going to have your life here assumed dead, and will live a new life in Boston as Emily Bailey. Her body will instead be placed in this fire to be CSA, which is you."

"I take it you are Southerners?"

"Did the masks give it away?" He said, clearly lightening the mood.

"Yes, obviously, but like where are we going?"

He looked forward, ignoring my comment.

"Who are you guys again?"

He smiled, as he put his sun glasses back on. Something he needed cause of his eye situation. "The Children of the Confederacy. We are the Children of the Confederacy. We will not let our the yankee continue to occupy us any longer. We will make them bow before us on the eight when we commemorate the day we began the holy struggle against the devils spawn that are the yankee!"

They begin to pull up at a building outside of town, a small house. As we enter it, it is a bunch of soldiers dressed like Alfred had been. Weapons everywhere, and an army of literally everything you could ask for. Donald led me to a office like room. We both seated as we waited for someone to arrive. "So how long you been with the CTC for?" I asked him.

"Since I was 13."

"...Well how old are you know?"

"23."

"I'm sorry. Just I'm scared, the girl hung today she was my best friend. The boy shot by the sniper, her fiance. Like a brother to me. I lost my entire life today. My parents long dead. This conflict we are still fighting because of these Lincolnites cannot go on like this forever."

"It will." He said very contained and calmed. "We will never see a free South, nor will our children. And so on. That is until they stop letting us have them. You know why I don't have one eye, or half my face, or a bone that has not been broken in my body. So that maybe one day until we are all killed off this world, some of our brothers and sisters can enjoy a life that is normal. We ain't got no elite, we are all broke *ss inbred son of b*tches. That the way Lincoln wanted us all to be born, and that the way we all gonna die." He said without realizing the door had opened. When he did, he got up and saluted. Seeing him do this, I did it was well. "President George Wallace, it is an honor." It was President George Wallace, the President of the CTC which claims itself to be the legal continuation of the CSA government after the Union government had broken the CSA-USA peace treaty by imposing a series of laws in 1869 that mad the south worse than a colonial territory. Since then they had been fighting a insurgency against the USA to regain control of the South...

ContextReport