WRITING DONE BY ME -------------------------------------- Unjust. Greedy. Ugly. Maddox knew it was wrong to compare a man to something like the devil, but there was no way to describe him besides words like ‘demon’ or ‘menace.’ Even that is an understatement. The way the president refused to show his face said something. A rumor had said he used to be handsome. Like that would excuse his actions. Pretty privilege at its best. What a cruel world. Maddox thought as he stared at the television. Barely working, rusty old thing. He knew he was supposed to be out chopping wood. His arms were sore anyway, so he could stay in this old factory rotting away. And maybe the president would say something useful. “The war is for good reasons, of course…” The president’s translator said, Shawn leaned back on his chair, smoking a cigarette. He’s holding it backwards. Maddox sighed, glaring at his coworker. The air was already full of pollution, the factory even more stuffy. Shawn waves it off with a, “Label say it’s healthy.” Maddox gave him a concerned look. The door swung open abruptly, Shawn jumping off the chair and collapsing into a pile of wood. “Get to work. Cameras are on. We see ya’.” An old man rasped, face turning red. Maddox picked himself up. You can’t just disobey an order. Not here. Not now. Not ever. He nodded at the man, “Yes sir.” The old man looked triumphant, like a child after convincing a parent to do the dishes for them. If anything, it was disgusting. How could somebody be proud after forcing a ton of teenagers to do all the ‘dirty’ work? While they sit on their butts drinking coffee. I’d kill for a coffee, Maddox thought. Or to sit on my butt all day. Shawn got out of the pile of logs, “I think I got a splinter.” “I wonder why.” Maddox muttered, switching the TV off. Taking an axe off the wall, he went out into the cold night. Frost bit the tips of the delicate, starved trees. Life was scarce. Food was scarce. What was left of the city was just junk now. Rock, dust. He couldn’t go inspect, the walls caged him inside. Barbed wires lined the tops. Escape is not an option… The trees kinda reminded Maddox of himself. Just staying in the same damn spot, withering away with nothing to hold onto other than its weak roots. But somehow, he hadn’t been blown over by a breeze. Not yet…
TW: Deep (ish) themes? (If there are mild cuss words I did not catch I apologize!! This was original from a book I was working on) @Vitro013 for the contest (me) for the writing (Ignore the attempt to make it look pleasing)
