Five Card Story: Dystopia
a Five Card Flickr story created by YeonJi Seo
flickr photo by keepps
flickr photo by Serenae
flickr photo by bionicteaching
flickr photo by Serenae
flickr photo by bionicteaching
WAS this a dream? No it could not have been.
I stared…as if I was having a staring contest with a goat. All of us, in a cage, longed for freedom. All I could see a world full of dust and dreadful noises. The same people walking on the streets with the exact same clothes—always dull and dark. What happened to the bright world, people smiling and doing all sorts of activities?
I remember, extremely clearly, of the day when I went through a tiny hole, very small, you could barely fit one finger through it. I tried to look into it and all I saw was darkness. I tried to see if there was anything underneath. But with the swoosh of the wind, my jacket blew off, and all of a sudden, I was in a world full of emotionless people.
Now this was painful. I quickly grabbed all my supplies I needed for another tiresome day at work, running up and down the stairs to send out messages. Everything looked exactly the same—every house, every person, and every bike, just about everything. The way that everything was lined up in the same orderly manner—it kind of bothered me.
As I was rushing through, something caught my glance. There was a boy on a bike—on a colorful bike. That obviously did not belong in this dreadful world. His bright blue eyes full of determination, blond hair, and bright lips showed his willingness of some sort. I just could not figure out what. But he was different. He did not belong here. If the people knew about him, he would be gone—literally, forever. He was the outcast here, and people here did not very much appreciate that.
I quickly rushed over to him, although I knew that I did not have much time until my next delivery. However, I knew I couldn’t leave him just standing there, with his lips showing anxiety, but eyes with determination. It just did not seem right. I looked around, checking if anyone was watching. No—this was good. I tried to explain to him. “Look, I don’t know how you got here, but you need to get out of here. This is no place for a boy like you. You are to live in the other world. Now run away before anyone catches you.” But the boy did not seem to understand. He just stood there, still looking confused and worried, along with the courage. His eyes told me that he had a purpose to be here. But what could it be? Maybe it was to get us all out of the place. No, that couldn’t be. No one knows the exit, other than the ruler, the one that controls this entire world of dread. And him, a little boy on a bike, cannot and will not be able to do anything, for no one has ever done anything for the past hundreds of years, others say. I waited for the boy to talk. I tried to explain again. “If people find you, they will kill you. This place is scary. You do not want to be here.”
Just then, I heard people coming. I quickly rushed and pushed the boy into the bushes behind the dark alley. It was the ruler and his fellow workers. They were going on a tour around the place to check how everything was. They did this once in a while. Then ZAP! That was all I heard. Then the next thing I knew—there was our ruler, lying on the ground, bleeding to death. “Ahh!” he cried, but nobody dared to look. They just stood there, quietly, in awe. Then all of a sudden, the securities dropped their weapons. The boy suddenly yelled, “Victory!” That was when everyone started cheering.
The boy had done it. The one that had looked so innocent and different. He had given all of us, every single one of us, the freedom to do anything we wanted to. Something we hadn’t been able to do for long. The dream that we wished to come true but knew it never would. Something, we had been praying for.
I stared…as if I was having a staring contest with a goat. All of us, in a cage, longed for freedom. All I could see a world full of dust and dreadful noises. The same people walking on the streets with the exact same clothes—always dull and dark. What happened to the bright world, people smiling and doing all sorts of activities?
I remember, extremely clearly, of the day when I went through a tiny hole, very small, you could barely fit one finger through it. I tried to look into it and all I saw was darkness. I tried to see if there was anything underneath. But with the swoosh of the wind, my jacket blew off, and all of a sudden, I was in a world full of emotionless people.
Now this was painful. I quickly grabbed all my supplies I needed for another tiresome day at work, running up and down the stairs to send out messages. Everything looked exactly the same—every house, every person, and every bike, just about everything. The way that everything was lined up in the same orderly manner—it kind of bothered me.
As I was rushing through, something caught my glance. There was a boy on a bike—on a colorful bike. That obviously did not belong in this dreadful world. His bright blue eyes full of determination, blond hair, and bright lips showed his willingness of some sort. I just could not figure out what. But he was different. He did not belong here. If the people knew about him, he would be gone—literally, forever. He was the outcast here, and people here did not very much appreciate that.
I quickly rushed over to him, although I knew that I did not have much time until my next delivery. However, I knew I couldn’t leave him just standing there, with his lips showing anxiety, but eyes with determination. It just did not seem right. I looked around, checking if anyone was watching. No—this was good. I tried to explain to him. “Look, I don’t know how you got here, but you need to get out of here. This is no place for a boy like you. You are to live in the other world. Now run away before anyone catches you.” But the boy did not seem to understand. He just stood there, still looking confused and worried, along with the courage. His eyes told me that he had a purpose to be here. But what could it be? Maybe it was to get us all out of the place. No, that couldn’t be. No one knows the exit, other than the ruler, the one that controls this entire world of dread. And him, a little boy on a bike, cannot and will not be able to do anything, for no one has ever done anything for the past hundreds of years, others say. I waited for the boy to talk. I tried to explain again. “If people find you, they will kill you. This place is scary. You do not want to be here.”
Just then, I heard people coming. I quickly rushed and pushed the boy into the bushes behind the dark alley. It was the ruler and his fellow workers. They were going on a tour around the place to check how everything was. They did this once in a while. Then ZAP! That was all I heard. Then the next thing I knew—there was our ruler, lying on the ground, bleeding to death. “Ahh!” he cried, but nobody dared to look. They just stood there, quietly, in awe. Then all of a sudden, the securities dropped their weapons. The boy suddenly yelled, “Victory!” That was when everyone started cheering.
The boy had done it. The one that had looked so innocent and different. He had given all of us, every single one of us, the freedom to do anything we wanted to. Something we hadn’t been able to do for long. The dream that we wished to come true but knew it never would. Something, we had been praying for.