Monica Starts Her Day

Monica was shocked when she had read the headline. The President had "won" a fourth term. She couldn't bring herself to put his last name with his title. Of course, she hadn't voted for him. She couldn't. Her race had lost the vote nearly ten years ago.

At least they were free. Most Islamic people were now kept behind high walls for the "good of public safety", her boyfriend included. It wouldn't be long before the remaining Muslims joined the rest of their people, and others who posed a threat to national security, in the "Patriotism Retraining Facilities." All of them were required to wear crescent pins on their clothes. When they had proven their loyalty, they would be given American Flag pins and released. The few that had already been returned to society swore that The Facility had been a wonderful retreat, and that their leader possessed the wisdom of God himself. Monica wondered if they said that due to brainwashing or fear.

The current Head of State had wheeled and dealed until unlimited terms had become the law. This President was just like his father had been, a chip off the old block. No, he was much worse than his father. He was far more open about his beliefs, the beliefs shared by all that loved their country.

He had recently let the words, "conspirator cleansing" cross his lips. Many of Monica's friends were quietly outraged. There were others that had attempted to protest, but they were arrested as they arrived at the hastily scheduled rally.

The President had used racial slurs and the bluest curses, referring to the caucasians that had gone to the park, to describe to those who had joined the "uprising." He had nothing to lose. The First Amendment had been repealed long ago, so the press would only praise the leader's great insight. The Commander-in-Chief said that the "solution" was only in it's beginning stages and would serve only "the most noble purposes" the nation. Monica had no clue what that meant.

She turned off her computer, and prepared to leave for work. She couldn't read anymore about what the government was up to. She needed to refocus so she could appear to be a loyal "Stateless-Citizen." She checked her purse to ensure that she had remembered her travel pass, and she pinned her flag to her blouse. With a heavy sigh, Monica left her apartment and began her commute.