Sunday, May 20, 2012

Michelle Y.'s Short Story: Strain 70V3

Total destruction. Atrocity. Chaos. The cozy island of Karissa off the coast of Greece has never seen anything so hideous nor horrific in the past. In fact, Karissa was especially known for its peaceful ways. Ever since the reign of the Karissa family, violence was no longer known. The new monarchy, in order to maintain stability, exercised a new method of control. They called it compliance with freedom, essentially tyranny with equality. The Karissian rules were simple: live, work, and die for the greater good. Any interference was to be avoided, or forgotten. If something did not benefit society, it had to go.  Feelings and desires, if it did not help the community, was looked down upon. For a long while in isolation, this system developed.
Pretty soon, the enchanted island radiated prosperity and contentment. The reign of the Karissian Empire became legend. To the eyes of the preying public, there was no place more perfect than this island; it was even rumored that the island was a gateway to paradise. A warm island with clear waters and sunny skies, what more could be desired? A place where the tropical breeze blew, it was the perfect setting for a cliché story, the ones about summer romance. Karissa was pleasant, filled with the harmonious music of singing birds and the calming hum of the ocean waves. Plus, with all the perks of industrialization, Karissa was not at all a bad place to live.
But now, bodies—corpses—covered every inch of the island. A pool of blood had formed on the earth. Every inhabitant had been found, twisted in a grotesque fashion, stained with splotches of scarlet. The stench of rotten flesh burned. Karissa was covered in bodies with once gaping wounds whose faces were frozen in a state of absolute terror. The bodies that still looked like bodies had suffered blunt force trauma and hemorrhaging, but these scientific terms described nothing. In fact, there really wasn’t a way to fully describe what had happened, and no one knew, either.
Everyone simply assumed a political conflict. After all, the Karissian family had been ruling for quite a while, longer than anyone else had in the past. Conspiracy was a possibility. The prosperous island was something to be eyed; it would be of no surprise if someone wanted to become the ruler of it themselves. After a period of long reign, there is bound to be conflict. It made perfect sense.
Regardless of the assumptions of political conflict, everyone wanted to know what really happened. However, despite the curiosity, no one wanted to go to the ill-fated island; they were all waiting for a scapegoat to do what they did not want to do. Every single person, all around the world, had been waiting for someone like Angie Taylor.

These sort of things always happened to her. It’s a big break, huh?, the tall slender girl, thought. She had been afraid of getting fired, but instead, she got a shitty job that no one else wanted. Might as well been fired, she sighed as she twirled her long brown locks out of frustration. If only I got the pleasant jobs... The girl, not quite an adult, yet not exactly a child, walked rapidly down the corridor from her boss’s room, taking no notice of the bulletin of successful journalists of all time. It was part of her philosophy; why bother if there is nothing to be bothered about? It’s not like I’m going to be on there, anyways. Getting swiftly back to her room, Angie Taylor sat down heavily. On the way back, she had decided against the resignation she had previously proposed. She had duty, unlike the rest of them—and also unlike them, she had no power. My life is a series of unfortunate events, she concluded.
It had started ever since the death of her father fourteen years ago due to pancreatic cancer. A terminal illness, he had died quicker than any of his family members could react. After that, Angie’s life became a stream of bad luck. Her mother, presented with new financial problems, could no longer take proper care of her two daughters, six and sixteen at the time. Eventually, the older one ran off, leaving only Angie with her mother. However, even with one less child, their family had financial problems.

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