Faces in the Crowd
I must get to the shelter.
I can hear the sirens blaring down the street; boxy white vehicles warning us of impending doom as they blast their way through traffic. Strips of red and blue lights flash brightly across the cabins, almost binding me the vehicles pass by.
I race down the sidewalk, pushing my way through crowds of people. Why is no one else running?
The vehicles make their way down the block. Traffic parts like the Red Sea as they speed around the corner and out of sight. Their sirens begin to fade in the distance, the sound lost among the din of traffic and chattering pedestrians.
“Excuse me, miss?”
I approach a woman standing by the street corner; she holds some sort of device in her hand, the face of it glowing brightly as her fingers tap away at the smooth surface. I’ve never seen a woman like her before. Her hair is bright blue in color, and she wears pants so tight against her legs I fear that the seams would burst. She seems startled as I approach, stepping backwards to place the lamppost between us.
“What do you want?” Her voice is angry, with a hint of fear as well.
“Do you know where the shelter is? We must get to the shelter immediately!”
“Um, excuse me? I’m not going anywhere with you! If you’re looking for the homeless shelter, it’s three blocks that way.” She points back the way I came, stepping back once again and clutching her device even tighter.
“No, not a homeless shelter! The fallout shelter! Didn’t you hear the sirens?! We have to get to safety; the missiles will be here any moment-“
My sentence is interrupted as a young man approaches. I suppose him to be a police officer – that’s what his vest says, yet he wears a uniform unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Dressed in all black, a helmet and visor covers his eyes and hides his expression. He carries some sort of shield with him, made of clear plastic.
“Excuse me sir, do you have some sort of problem with this young woman?” The officer leans forward as he speaks, his large frame towering over me.
“Officer, you’ve got to help us!” I exclaim in a frenzy. “We’ve got to get to the fallout shelter before it’s too late! Didn’t you hear the sirens?!”
“Fallout shelter, huh? Yeah, sure. I’ve got just the place for you. Why don’t you follow me?”
My momentary relief is snatched away as I watch the officer pull a pair of silver handcuffs from his belt.
“What are you doing with those?” I step back a few feet, pulling my hands against my chest.
“Listen buddy, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Hold out your hands.”
I turn away from the officer, taking off down an unfamiliar street as the woman begins to shout after me. I take a glance behind me to see the officer in pursuit. People jump back out of the way as he runs, shouting strings of numbers into a little box clipped to his vest.
I run for what feels like miles, ducking between people and down alleyways before finally slowing to a walk. I have no idea where I am now; the city has changed so much from what I remember. I look up at the towering skyscrapers on either side of the street. Their concrete façades have been overlaid with glowing television screens. Full-color images flash by at a dizzying pace – young women display brightly painted faces alongside hamburgers piled high with layers of meat and toppings.
I notice with a start that everyone is staring at me as they pass by. I hadn’t realized quite how much I stand out. I’m wearing a simple grey jumpsuit – I remember it being given to me a long time ago, as part of some kind of experiment. I lay down in a glass chamber, watching as the scientists in their stark white coats closed the transparent door. They told me it would be “just like falling asleep.” The last thing I remember is looking up at an elderly, bespectacled face as the chamber filled with a cold white fog.
I hadn’t felt that any time had passed. It seemed as though I had I merely blinked, landing myself out in the street of this futuristic city.
I notice a newspaper stand on the corner. Digging in my pockets, I realize that I don’t have any money. No matter. I can at least read the headlines. I approach the stand carefully, scanning across each paper as I pass by.
One in particular catches my eye, and I pause for a moment to scan the article.
Riots Grip Major Cities as Impeachment Trial Commences
I must have been standing in shock for some time before the owner of the stand interrupted me.
“Hey buddy, you gonna buy that? News ain’t cheap.”
“Sorry, I don’t have any mone-“
“Then move it, buster! I need paying customers around here!”
I step back from the stand, turning towards the street in time to see the street fill with vehicles built more like tanks than cars. POLICE is painted down the side in bolded white letters. They must be after me again. There’s too many to escape; I watch as dozens of them pile out onto the pavement. Some hold those plastic shields, while others hold rifles at the ready.
I brace myself for the inevitable, but quickly realize they aren’t here for me after all. I hear screams getting louder from down the street as a mass of hundreds – maybe even a thousand – people come marching towards us. They carry signs high above their heads, calling out for justice against someone or something.
The strange policemen stand shoulder-to-shoulder, their shields forming a sort of barrier between them and the crowd. I stand mesmerized, my trance broken by a sudden pull on my sleeve.
“Come on man, you’ve got to get out of here!”
The stranger begins dragging me away from the crowd, down a narrow side street where we stop in front of a quaint little bakery. Gunshots ring out from behind us, followed by screams of agony and terror. I catch my breath, noticing the smell of fresh-baked muffins wafting from the shop.
“What on earth was that?!” I ask the man, making a wild gesture in the direction we came from.
“You live under a rock or something? You’re liable to get yourself killed standing out in the street like that during a riot! Keep it together, man. Stay safe.” The stranger gives me a brief pat on the shoulder, disappearing down the road and leaving me with more questions than before. No doubt he saved my life.
This is not the future I had imagined.
A Silent Call for Help
Ugh. I feel so fat today.
What on earth is she wearing?
She’s really cute….
Is the dance this Friday?
These thoughts are not my own,
Yet they rattle through my head,
A silent conversation,
With hundreds of voices.
Oh God, I failed that test.
I hope he calls me tonight.
Where did Mr. Johnson go?
Did we have homework?
I pass by unnoticed,
My gaze on the tile floor,
Listening to a symphony,
Of words left unsaid.
Was Stacy at the party?
He probably has a girlfriend.
I just want to die.
This is really good coffee.
My eyes snap forward,
Sharply scanning the crowd,
Analyzing every face,
Every internal voice.
I can’t take this anymore.
I turn down the hallway,
In pursuit of a solitary figure,
Rushing through the crowd,
Notebooks clutched tightly.
I’ve got to get out of here.
I won't come back; I can’t.
No one’s going to miss me.
It doesn’t matter anyways.
The monologue grows stronger,
Louder above the chaos,
As I draw nearer to the source,
Of a silent cry for help.
Goodbye.
I push open the bathroom door,
Left unlocked in haste,
To a figure slumped against the wall,
Backpack tossed aside.
She stares at me with piercing eyes,
As I sit down beside her,
And in a rare instance my own voice,
Becomes loudest in my ears.
Do you want to talk?
Together We Are Strong
Together, we are strong.
Militaries fight as close-knit families, standing guard for each other and defending their homeland against unspeakable horrors. Law enforcement and first responders combine their skills for the protection of innocent lives, no matter what the situation may be or how much danger may be involved. Communities band together in times of crisis, when lives have been lost in terror attacks or natural disasters, working tirelessly to rebuild and restore.
Together, we can accomplish things that would be impossible to do alone.
In unity there is strength, but where does it come from? It seems commonly accepted that there must be some mysterious force making the team stronger than the individual, some sort of solidarity in action. It seems as though the individual is weak by comparison, that one person could not possibly shoulder such heavy burdens and have such dramatic impacts on others.
And yet, the strength of the team comes from the individual.
Individual efforts are the very thing that make a team so powerful.
It may seem selfish at first advocate for aggressive individualism, every person focusing primarily on his or her own aspirations. It may seem to be a message of isolationism and distrust, though it is exactly the opposite. Every person has the moral obligation to advance their own skills as far as they possibly can, not only for themselves but for their communities.
Inside every person is a wealth of talent and ability.
Inside every person is the power to change the world.
To underestimate the individual is to insult the very essence of human nature. Every famous scientist, inventor, general, and president throughout history put massive amounts of study and effort into improving themselves and honing their expertise. They did so not out of selfishness, but so they would have the platform and the resources to bring the greatest amount of good into the world.
The strongest teams are not made of those who cower in fear and tremble at the slightest obstacle. The strongest teams are made of warriors, standing firm in the face of uncertainty. They refuse to back down during a crisis, rising to protect anyone who cannot protect themselves. They are seen as heroes, although to them it is merely their duty.
Together, we are strong.
But before we can be strong together, we must first be strong alone.
Get up every morning with a sense of purpose, ready to take on the day. Strive for perfection at every task; even the most meaningless of chores can be used as practice for matters of life and death. Go to work with the confidence of a CEO, walking in the doors each day with your head held high and every piece of paper in order. Don’t be discouraged by failure or trauma; take it as an opportunity to grow stronger and more confident.
Above all, never give up.
As yourself not what you would die for, but what you would live for. Maybe it’s your family or a close friend. Maybe it’s religion or your faith in the universe. It doesn’t matter what it is, so long as you hold it close to your heart. When it feels like the world is crashing down around you and you can barely get out of bed in the morning, that one thing will keep you going.
You can only stand up for others if you first stand up for yourself.
Alone we are strong, so that together we are stronger.