23 years from now.
The thought of getting up earlier was in my head. However, being a seventeen-year-old boy seems to automatically throw that option out the imaginary window. Speaking of which, why is this "window" only mentioned when something is being thrown out of it? Why are there no metaphors referring to someone "sneaking out of" this metaphoric window? I think I could make that a trend. Anyway, I did not wake up naturally, I was awoken by Sam, as he decided to shake me out of my wonderful dream state. He woke me up like I was his father, and he was five, and it was Christmas morning.
"Hurry up, Tim! We're going to miss our flight!" He said as I began to come to. Then I remembered, the flight. We were going to be late. I got up with a burst of energy and got changed. Sam was already wearing a shirt he got from Hot Topic, skinny jeans, and an Invader Zim hat he always placed on top of his short bright red hair. While I was going through my suitcase checklist, Sam kept mentioning how he might get a new piercing while we were in Los Angeles, from one of those fancy famous LA piercers. He already has spider bites in the right side of his lip, even though he was upset to find out his nose can't sustain a septum piercing. While I am not one to get piercings, all I really have that I can show off is a Pisces tattoo on my left bicep with two koi fish, one is orange [to represent the first sunrise of the Pisces season] and the other is blue [to represent the last night of the Pisces season].
Sam then helped me with the checklist, he was much faster than me. If I had forgotten something, I would go get it, while he would continue going down the list. It was times like these, when I was glad to have Sam as a friend. I would probably go insane without him there. I zip up my suitcase and my carry-on, and then set them down by the front door. Sam already had his bags packed and laying by the door, as if he had put them there days in advance, which wouldn't surprise me in the slightest. I came back into my room to see Sam sitting on my bed, writing in his journal. He doesn't mind if I read his journal, because it's mostly daily entries, and his original poetry.
"What are you writing?' I ask.
"Poetry".
I told you he writes poetry.
"I always love your poetry".
Even though this made Sam happy by hearing this, his poems are a little dark for my taste. He has a way where he can make you terrified of the most normal thing you can think of. His way with words is astonishing. If Sam wrote a poem about the meat packing industry, I would probably be a vegetarian right now, even Upton Sinclair would be impressed. I look at my watch, 1:35. It was time to head to the airport.
We load everything into Sam's Altima, and get in the car. The leather made a squish as we got in, since Sam decided to save money by not purchasing a covered parking spot. I try to tell him that it was a stupid idea, especially during another stereotypical 'West Texas Hot-As-Hell Summer', but he just reminds me that he has the money, and therefore he can do whatever he wants with it. Then that would be the end of the conversation.
I risk getting third degree burns as I buckle my seatbelt and try to hold my head away from the now three-hundred-degree headrest. Sam turns the key in the ignition.
The car starts.
The AC kicks in.
I quickly turn the fans toward my face, and I find myself stuck with an expression that resembles someone experiencing their first orgasm. I snap out of my trance as I hear Sam cuss under his breath.
"Fuck! This steering wheel is burning!" He says as he tries to grab the wheel with just his index finger and thumb. The sun is beating down, causing Sam's hair to resemble a river of molten lava, fading from red to orange, and finally to black towards the scalp. We pull out of the parking lot, and then hit the road.
"So," Sam says as we merge onto the highway, "How's your play coming along?" Sam is the only person who knows that I'm writing a play, because he's great at giving me advice. Sam and I have been doing theatre together for years, and he has an eye for creative drama. I've been sitting on a project for a play about child abuse since my sophomore year, and he's been giving me amazing notes to help motivate me to finish it. Hopefully Google Docs can help us contact each other, since next fall Sam will be attending Angelo State University, and I will be stuck in a community college that's right down the street from my house. I'm really going to miss him, and he knows that.
"It's going well." I tell him, while searching in the compartment between the seats for the AUX cord. "I got that confrontation scene between Kevin and Paul finished." I find the AUX cord, plug it in, and now I search for a good song.
"Oh my God, really? I can't wait to read it!" That's what he always says, but I can tell that this time, he really meant it. Before the silence could become awkward, I begin to play Bully by Three Days Grace, and we jam out 'till we get to the airport.
After a fine car trip playlist consisting of: The Offspring, Breaking Benjamin, Three Days Grace, Three Doors Down, and finally Celine Dion's My Heart Will Go On, all hand-picked by the greatest DJ of all time (me), we finally arrive at the airport. We find our terminal, give them our luggage, and board the plane. Sam decides that during the flight, he would listen to music and write some more poetry in his journal. I, on the other hand, decide to read the whole flight. It's been awhile since I read anything by Stephen King, so I decided to go with Salem's Lot.
Upon take off, I force a yawn to pop my ears, and then try my best to relax. It's not that I have a fear of air travel, it's just that I am not a 'frequent flyer'. I try to read my book, but when I do, I become overwhelmed with nausea. So, I decide to close my eyes, and before I know it, I'm out like a light.
I finally wake up to the sound of the pilot on the speaker, announcing that we are about to land is Los Angeles, and that he wishes us to have a wonderful day. We get off the plane, and Sam pulls me through the crowded LAX, which looks like a big city mall on Black Friday. Once we grab our luggage, we run through the smells of pizza, Cinnabon, Starbucks, and every nationality you can think of. We grab a cab, and Sam has the driver, a kind Muslim man named Hammond who was kind of hard to understand, take us to the Hollywood sign. Once we got there, we took selfies, in awe of the massive beauty. After that, we walked down Sunset Boulevard. The sights of everything was incredible, a big city surrounded by desert, ocean, and mountains. We stopped at Pink's to enjoy her classic hot dogs, and at the table across from us, there was a girl, staring at us.
She couldn't be more than seventeen or eighteen years old. Her hair was dark brown, in a tight ponytail. She had to be of Native American descent by looking at her darker skin tone. This girl had a good sense of style: Patagonia jacket over a tank top, and a pair of denim shorts. She was just staring at us, no expression, just a stare. I began to feel scared that she was looking into my soul, and just scrolling through all of my secrets. I nudge Sam, and he looks at me with chili all over his face.
"These are good, right?" He asks with his mouth full.
"Yeah, they are." I tell him without taking my eyes off this mysterious girl. We have now entered a staring contest. A minute rolls by and then she gets up and walks over to us. She looks at me, then Sam, who still hasn't wiped his mouth, which causes her to snicker.
"You must be tourists." She assumes. Sam looks at her, then quickly grabs a napkin and wipes his mouth like the chili is suddenly melting his face off.
"What makes you think that?" Sam says in a fake jock impression, that was surprisingly not bad.
"Just a hunch."
"So, what if we are?" I ask.
"Well then I was going to let you know about the big bash that's being thrown tonight."
"What kind of bash?" Sam just can't refuse the offer to party. He's going to fit right in at college.
"Oh, it's big. We get together, there's drinking, music, dancing, girls, the whole nine yards."
"Oh, I don't know." I say.
"What do you mean, 'you don't know'?" Sam interjects. "We have to go!"
"We don't know LA, something could happen."
"The only thing that's going to happen is this," Sam explains. "We go to this bash, get drunk, find some hot bitches, get a motel room, and get laid. Full proof!" The girl stands silent next to us, and I can tell that she's uncomfortable. So, I decide to break the now awkward silence.
"Fine! I'm in." I then turn my attention to the mysterious young lady. "Do you have an address to this party?"
"Yes, right here." She pulls out her phone, makes a few swipes, and then writes the address on an extra napkin. As she does, a gust of wind lifts her ponytail up, letting the sun show off the amber tones in her hair. She hands the napkin to us and begins to walk away. "There you go. I guess I'll see you tonight..." She looks at us, trying to figure out who we are, like some kind of West Coast gypsy.
"Oh, my name is Sam, and this is Tim."
"Okay cool, I'm Anastasia, but you can call me Ana."
"Alright Ana, we'll see you tonight." Ana gives us a small smile, and then turns and walks away. I then go back to eating my hot dog as Sam starts talking about how much fun this bash is going to be.
For the rest of the trip, I tried to enjoy everything we could see and do. However, Sam could not keep his mind off the bash that we were going to. It was as if this party has engulfed his mind, and now it's all he knows. Because of this bash, he couldn't admire the Orpheum theater, Dodger stadium, or the Walk of Fame. As we were walking around, I did notice something odd. Los Angeles was surprisingly clean, and I didn't see a single homeless person. It struck me as weird, because I was always told how dirty it was, and that it had a ridiculously high homeless population. Supposedly, hell must have frozen over, because this is not the Los Angeles that I was "warned" about. The buildings, while they show their age, are not filthy. There's no shit just lying on the sidewalk. The skyscrapers are erect and standing proud among the mountains around them. I don't know how, but something that appears to be a good thing, has just given me the chills. I pull out the napkin that Ana gave us and look over it.
BASH TONIGHT!
SUNSET BLVD.
8:00 P.M.
BE THERE! XOXO
After reading it, I look at the time on my phone: 7:15. I nudge Sam, who was looking at a replica of an Emmy Award for Best Actress. He holds it up to me and begins to badly fake a cry.
"I'd just like to thank all the old men that I had to sleep with in order to get this award. I faked all of the orgasms, but still, thank you." We both bust out laughing, as the owner of the shop watches us carefully. I guess here in LA, you're consider a 'thief' if you wear grungy clothes and have unnatural colored hair. Sam goes up and pays for the Emmy, then we meet up outside to start heading to Sunset Boulevard.
On the way, we catch a glimpse of the sun falling behind the gorgeous hills. It really is a sight that every tourist would behold, and every local would ignore. We find ourselves on Sunset, and we could not believe our eyes.
The entire street is closed. Not sure yet if this is an official event, or if the cops are just bound to crash it, and arrest everyone they can. While the street may be blocked off, it is anything but empty. There had to be at least hundreds of teens in the street, dancing wildly to a popular rap song that is being blasted through these huge speakers at the front of the group. I pull out my phone and look at the time: 8:10. Sam doesn't waste a second and jumps right into the crowd. Before I just throw myself into a cackle of strangers, I at least look around in search of Ana. It was impossible to find her, because everyone was packed tight, and based on the beat of the song, the lights illuminating everyone would change from red, to green, to blue, to pink, and finally to orange over-and-over again at varying speeds.
Sunset looks creepy at night. The lights would bounce off the building, showcasing every crack in the walls. They looked like angry old men that could collapse at any time. Before I could find Ana, two people leave the crowd and come up to me. It was a boy and a girl, around the same age as me. The boy had mid length wavy black hair, a darker skin tone, a yellow sweater that says California in a baseball jersey font and calve length skinny jeans and hi-top Converse. The girl had short blonde hair, a hoodie, and skinny jeans with black Vans.
"Hi there." the girl said. She has a strong accent, but I can understand her perfectly. "Not into parties?"
"No, I am. It's just that I don't know anyone here".
"Well, I'm Lisa and this is Brayan."
"Don't get thrown off by the spelling." He says. "It's pronounced like 'Brian'".
"Well," Lisa says, looking around, "It seems that you now know us." We all laugh.
"Well, my name's Tim. Nice to meet you both".
We move into the crowd and we all start dancing together. I catch a glimpse of Sam to my left, air humping a random girl. I try not to worry, because it looks consensual. Lisa and Brayan are pretty cool. As the night goes on, I learned that Lisa is an exchange student from Germany, and she got a full ride scholarship to UCLA. She told me that she wants to become a lawyer, because she values justice. Brayan has been living in LA for three years, because he wants to get his start in hair and makeup for movies and TV shows.
As we continue dancing, I can feel myself mixing into the rest of the crowd. The beat of the music flows through my body like a wave, and the flashing lights blind me for a split second as they rotate around, and up then down. Nobody knows any of the dances to the songs, so we all just make up our own dance moves as we go. The most impressive move was when this kid in a tank top and basketball shorts did a beautiful backflip into the worm. The crowd filled with wild screams of excitement as it happened, and the three of us applauded. The night was going great, and it was about to finish up after a couple more songs.
"Wow! This bash is excellent!" I yell at Lisa and Brayan due to the volume of the music.
"Isn't this much better than standing in the back?" Lisa yells back.
"Definitely! I'm going to find Sam! It was nice meeting you both!" Brayan gives me a side hug, and then Lisa gives me an exploding fist bump. Once they go their own way, I set off to find Sam. It is like finding a needle in a haystack. It seemed that more people showed up later at night. I pull out my phone to check the time again: 11:13. As I am looking among the sea of faces, I spot Sam holding a red Solo cup, talking to three young girls. I push through people to get to him and notice one of the girls kiss him. Once I am close enough to get a better look, I recognize the girl. Sam is kissing Ana, on the lips. I'm not close enough to see if tongue is involved, but their lips are magnetized. By the time I come up to them, they separate. Ana and Sam both turn to me.
"Oh hey, Tim, right?"
"Um, yeah, how's it going, Ana?"
"Not too bad. You like the party?"
"Yeah, it's incredible. Better than anything we have in West Texas."
Ana nods as Sam nudges my shoulder.
"I tried looking for you, man." He says. "I didn't know where you went."
"Well, I can assure you I wasn't in Ana's mouth. But thanks for checking." I can't help but laugh as Ana and Sam's faces both turned red, and not because of the lighting. I catch up with Sam as he tells me about all the girls he met, and I tell him about Lisa and Brayan.
"Are they a couple? Or is Lisa single?"
"No! Brayan's her gay best friend."
"Okay, gotcha."
Our conversation was then cut short by some loud commotion. We turn toward the noises and notice that everyone is looking up at the starless night sky. We follow their lead and look up as well. In the distance, we can see the lights of a helicopter flying toward us, and as it comes closer, we can see something else.
There's a person hanging from the bottom of the helicopter, swinging side to side. We look up in awe of this amazing trick. Everyone applauds, some even give out a nice holler and "All right!". He flies by overhead, then comes to make a turn around before heading back. However, as the helicopter flies back, a crack is heard, followed by another, then screaming. All that can be seen is the man falling from under the helicopter and hitting the roof of a hotel with a loud thud. People begin to scream and cry, worried for his well-being, and I find myself standing there with my hand over my mouth. I can't believe what I just witnessed, but my mind keeps reminding me that it did happen. I turn to Sam, who is stuck with his jaw dropped, and any words I was planning on saying were cut off by a deafening high-pitched siren coming from the roof of the hotel that the man fell on. Everyone, including myself, covered their ears to try to block out all the noise, but it was no use.
The siren came in chimes of three and repeated four times before shutting off. The noise was then replaced with a rotating red light on the roof. Everyone looks around frantically, trying to figure out what's going on. I see Lisa, and she sees me, so she runs over to me, followed by Brayan. Their panic matches everyone else's.
"We need to leave right now!" Lisa says.
"Why?" I insist. "What's going on?"
But before Lisa could get a word out, a loud spiel plays through the siren speaker.
"PROPERTY DAMAGE ALERT! PROPERTY DAMAGE ALERT! CURFEW HAS BEEN PUSHED FORWARD! ALL ESTABLISHMENTS ARE NOW CLOSED! PROPERTY DAMAGE ALERT!"
Once the message finished playing, large metal rods began to slide over every door and window that could be seen. Each door and window had two vertical rods, and two horizontal rods, around six inches thick, and they would stop once the rods crossed to the other side of the frame, resulting in what looked like giant tic-tac-toe boards. I have never seen anything so unnerving, and impressive at the same time. I turn back to Lisa, who looks like she's about to burst into tears.
"Oh man!" She cries. "We're dead!"
"What?" I ask. "What the hell is going on?"
"It's past curfew! They pushed it forward!" Brayan explained. He's trying to stay strong, but it looks like he knows the outcome is not going to be good. The siren lets out three long chimes, and then circular trap doors open in the sidewalk. Out of the ground rise these buff military men, wearing black body suits with orange shoulder pads. They're wearing black helmets with tinted visors, keeping their faces a secret from us. On their chests, there was an orange symbol against the black bulletproof vests, three horizontal lines stacked on top of each other, forming a futuristic looking 'E'. In their black gloved hands, they carried a policeman's baton. After observing them, I turned back to Brayan.
"What exactly does 'past curfew' mean?" I ask him. Brayan was ready to say something when a loud buzzer noise echoed on all the speakers for a few seconds. For a second later, everything went quiet... too quiet. Everyone around me was frozen with fear. The silence ended when the orange shoulder pads and symbols lit up on the soldiers, and they stepped off their pads. They quickly made a motion with the hand gripping their batons, and as if done with some crazy illusion, the batons transformed into heavy duty assault rifles. Then, Brayan gave me the shortest, and most simple answer to my question. "Run!"
I don't think I ran faster than I did tonight. I was right behind Ana, who told me that she played softball her freshman year of college. Brayan was catching up to me, with his long skinny legs. Sam was right beside me, and Lisa was behind us. I was able to pick up my speed hearing the gunshots and teenagers screaming. Once we see an area with no soldiers, we stop to catch our breath. On the brick wall ahead, we see a shadow of a young girl, around fourteen years old, backing up as the shadow of one of the soldiers goes up to her. Her cries make our eyes begin to water.
"Please! Please don't kill me! I didn't do anything!" Her pleas are replaced by five rapid gunshots to her head. We all quickly hold our mouths shut to keep the screams from coming out. She was an innocent civilian, now she's dead. She was too young to deserve this. They all are. We wait until the soldier moves away, and we find the young girl. None of her facial features were recognizable, her head was exploded. She was wearing a black dress, with tight faded blue jeans underneath, with a nice pair of white Converse. We all gathered around and gave a moment of silence for her, and her family.
We turn a corner and find an abandoned building with no bars on the windows. I help everyone hop inside, but Brayan stops in his tracks.
"Where's Lisa?" He asks.
"I thought she was behind you!" I look back, and see a figure lying in the street. Brayan sees it too, then he recognizes her hoodie.
"Oh my God! Lisa!" Brayan runs toward the figure, and I hold him back.
"No! Brayan don't! She's gone!" Brayan fights against me as tears form in his eyes. I'm about to help him back to the building, when he begins screaming.
"Look! She's not dead! Look!" I look back to see Lisa struggle to get back up. However, behind her, I see a soldier walking behind her, and he's gaining.
"Lisa!" I shout. "Lisa! Don't move!" However, over all the chaos, she can't hear me. She slowly makes it to her knees as the soldier approaches. Brayan thrashes in my arms as the soldier aims his gun.
"No! Lisa! No!"
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Lisa's body lies down flat, still... lifeless. Brayan screams and cries and Sam helps me carry him into the shelter. We all sit down to take a breather, unable to forget what we just saw. Brayan pulls out his water bottle, but he was almost unable to drink it because his hands were shaking so much. He passes the bottle to everyone, and we all drink up.
"I'm so sorry about Lisa." Sam says sincerely.
"It shouldn't have happened." His voice was as shaky as his hands.
"I know. Why are they doing this?"
"It's the law: 'Anyone out after curfew will be shot and killed on sight.' And when there's property damage, they push the curfew to that minute, to catch the offender."
"That's not the law in Texas."
"Pretty soon it will be. This system was designed to fix the homeless population problem. So, they're testing it out in Los Angeles. And, since the homeless population is now at zero, they're planning on using this system nationwide."
"So, why not tell everyone the truth?" I ask. "Why not expose them?"
"We can't." Brayan says, as if he's heard that question a million times. "We have no contact with anyone outside of LA."
"How is that possible?" Sam says.
"We have no idea. Whoever oversees this, has all their bases covered. Check your phone."
Sam pulls out his phone. Brayan then tells him to contact everyone in his contacts from Texas. All the calls became disconnected before they started ringing.
"That's weird."
"Now," Brayan says, "let me give you my number." He puts his number into Sam's phone. A few seconds later, Brayan's phone begins to vibrate, and their call comes in crystal clear.
"No social media access is available here. LA newspapers are only available in LA. No traveling."
"Wait!" Sam interrupts. "No traveling, what does that mean exactly?"
"Oh." Brayan's voice goes low. "I didn't want to be the one that tells you."
"Tells us what?" I demand. I have an idea of what Brayan's going to say, but deep down I really don't want him to say it. We all jump a little at the sound of gunshots outside, except for Ana, who is already fast asleep.
"Well, to avoid exposure, no one is allowed to leave the city."
"What?" Sam and I shout.
"Yes. People are allowed in, but they're not allowed out."
"For how long?" I ask.
"I guess until the system goes nationwide. Who knows how long that could take?"
"No, no, no. This can't be happening."
"You will always see planes fly into LAX, but you never see them leave LAX."
"This is insane!" Sam expresses.
"Listen, let's get some sleep. The Elite can't get us since we're not on the streets."
"The Elite?" I ask.
"The soldiers with the glowing 'E' on their chests. We don't know their official name, so we call them The Elite."
I wanted to ask more questions, but with what happened to Lisa, I agreed to try to get some sleep. I couldn't fall asleep as I could hear innocent teens being gunned down for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Brayan and I were the last two awake, and I guess he sensed it. Because before he drifted off, he left me with these words.
"We all may live in LA, but we're really nothing more than tourists".