Societal Disasters

Natural order surrounded the city of Cikeron. A land for implementation, and for the

motive of others to succeed in their society. Ein, decorated in goggles and tattered, torn clothes,

trudged his way through society, most often at the bottom. His fingers, completely clutched

around a religious padlock left securely in his hands– as a signature duffle bag was connected to

the left of his nape.

I can’t let this go wrong, I mustn’t. They said if I get this right, I could be free from this

nightmare.

Ein’s face transpired desperation as he gripped the duffle bag strap tighter, a daze that

couldn’t be snapped. Within his dispiriting trance, artificial light beams slipped between the

city's walls and exposed pipework as a humid breeze blew along the streets. The difference was

that the darkness within these light beams would make such an impact on the eyes. Its wispy yet

distinct smell circulated between the stoned pavement until, of course, disaster struck.

“I told you, it wasn’t me!” said a man was pulled out of a nearby shop, bickering toward

a freakishly long creature.

A thorough inspection seemed to have taken place by one of the higher-ups within

Cikeron’s society, a mosquito, nine feet tall, heaved across an undersized man– wearing what

seemed to be a convenience store uniform. One of the mosquito’s multiple arms carried a

fragmented computer, another clawed at the “suspect”.

“I’ve already made my decision, don’t make me add this to your record.” A mosquito

buzzed into the man’s ear.

“Please, sir, you have to believe me!” the man spurred out of control as he profusely

struggled to detangle his hands. The higher-up left no room to spare as he pricked every one of
his pores with bites, the velvet fingertips that the man once had were now drowning in vibrancy.

“We can discuss this further once we’ve arrived at the station.” The authority stifled,

them as they pushed their way through the city halls, leaving little droplets of blood behind their

trail.

The stagnant sensation ignited throughout Ein’s body as he observed closer at the

incident at hand; it wasn’t purposeful staring– he just couldn’t keep his eyes off the two. The way

authority wouldn’t even hesitate to hear the man out, whilst the man continuously begged for any

sake of empathy from the bug.

Ein’s eyes became a moth to a flame, tracing every little detail of the scene, leaving no

characteristic left for interpretation. Many others were in similar positions, if not, even more,

enveloped by the unraveling event. Some took photos while others couldn’t stop laughing at the

obnoxious shrieking. If only it was him instead of the man behind those cuffs, would he be

treated the same way? Ein’s thought’s trailed off as he continued trudging through the city's

crowd once again, dismissing the possibility of ever being caught again.

What am I thinking? Of course, I’d be treated the same way… I’m no exception to them.

Ein’s eyes narrowed as the creases around his stitched duffle bag became stifled.

Even within his pessimist behavior, his thought process wasn’t exactly incorrect; as

everyone in the city of Cikeron had no choice but to display perfection. Boys and girls would

spend moments of their days displaying forced generosity to not only get approval from their

parents– but from society as well. Forced behavior doesn’t exactly resolve into good behavior,

but rather the complete opposite of societal norms. The difference between these mortalitys were

who fought against them or who was going to give in.

 “Is that you, Ein?” A voice similar to the sound of sandpaper called out from above him.

The direction seemed to have taken place outside a local coffee shop within the city.

His face lifted instinctively due to the similar tone, “Nana?”

Ein’s croak embarked on a parade of exhilaration from his grandmother. She was a very

delicate woman, a woman of trust and unconditional love. Her teeth were not mistakenly used

but well kept. A grin that lifted the fat on the sides of her cheeks upwards, from her smile to the

way she’d say her words. She curled her lips as she pronounced vowels and her volume changed

drastically each time you got a chance to speak to her. A sporadic yet soothing woman. Her love

was exactly sweet, even to a sickening amount, some say she’d bring out a different side of

people no one knew about.

“My son, my baby boy!” Nana’s voice squealed as her arms folded around Ein’s trifling

figure, her appearance may not have made it clear that she was strong– but the shade of Ein’s

face said otherwise.

A high-pitched squeak was barely audible within Ein’s voice as a inconsistent shade of

purple cast across his body: “Nana– please– you’re embarrassing me…”

“Oh. Oh! I’m so sorry love, you know how I get,” Nana exclaimed, pausing at the

overwhelming interaction, she took a few steps backward to stare at him, resisting the sudden

urge to do it all over again.

Inbetween harsh sighs left dialing the conversation down for only a moment before Ein

spoke up once again– gripping tightly against the strap of his bag, “It's all okay Nana, let’s just,

go get something to eat.”

“Now you’re talking! Let’s go to The Upsies, my treat.”

 Through vivid struggling and indirect shoving of other people, the two relatives held each

other's hand as they the ocean of Cickeron’s civilians.

“So, tell me more about what you’re doing Ein. What’s going on with your job?” A

grumble or two emerged as a sudden plop from Ein’s duffle bag hit the ridges of the pavement.

Different designated billboard lights illuminated the building above them, while clashes

of different assortments of silverware completely encircled the restaurant. A designated billboard

had a tracking of how many people were within the building itself, the number of people who

left, and the designated counting of lower ranked civilians– a number one radiated a number for

this part of the chart. A fishy aura soaked the torn menus as each table was cramped together as

close as possible; from first glance, a closet was larger than the building itself.

Ein’s eyes squinted firmly, which was barely enough space for his pupils to get a better

grasp of one of the illuminated tags across the building, “Thirty years and older, still running as

fast as ever!~” was plastered directly underneath the restaurant's title.

Who would’ve known that the restaurant from thirty years ago would still be thriving

better than ever?

“Ein..? Hellooooo? Are you there?” His head titled to the left before responding,

“What? I’m sorry Nanny, what did you say?”

An obnoxious exhale left Nana’s lips before she lifted her hand toward her grandson’s

head to flick his temple.

“You need to pay attention more! Oh gears, it’s such a hassle whenever I have to get your

attention.”

“I get it, Nana, you don’t have to scold me.”

 “Good, happy to know my grandson isn’t twelve.” Soft chuckles on the outskirts of the

two’s table became spiked sporadically.

“Anyway, from what I asked earlier– how’s been living in the big city? What’s Cickeron

like for a newie yourself?”

“Oh, uhm…” A deadpan silence suffocated the air between them both.

If it hadn’t been obvious from before, Ein wasn’t exactly in the greatest place himself

when it came to struggling the path of Cickeron. As the big city wasn’t just nominated for being

one of the most highly developed governmental systems across the country– it shows the

singularity of being completely aware of their moral consensus program. Where the citizens have

to represent loyalty to the city, a shattering of mistakes could tear a gap within their society; Ein

had already fallen down this gap.

“Everyone, stand still.” Leads of flashing light sporadically ignited the restaurant, as a

familiar humming completely suffocated the room.

Huh?... What’s going on? Ein’s thoughts became louder than his surroundings in one

moment, and the restaurant’s noises went silent– it was so quiet you could hear the subtle breaths

of different civilians.

A stinkbug, quite larger than life itself, swauved into the once obnoxiously loud

restaurant– buzzing uncontrollably before searching through other people's bags, “We have

received recent news that several individuals with unacceptable levels have been seen within the

facility. This is a mandatory inspection, if there is any sense of leaving there will be severe

consequences. Do not move.”

No, no this can’t be. No, I can’t be. Droplets of what was cloud residue stained the

napkins underneath Ein, it was unsure what could happen next to Ein.
 The plan… What... What’s going on? A shattering broke in Ein’s voice, denial against the

truth of what’s happening as a sickening feeling weighs at the bottom of his stomach.

“Ein, what’s wrong? It’s just another protocol, you don’t have to worry about it love.”

Nana’s voice echoed within Ein’s mind before he jolted back to reality– staring directly into the

woman's eyes before saying,

“I’m sorry. Nana.”

“We’ve found the problem.”

A thorough inspection seemed to have taken place by one of the higher-ups within

Cikeron’s society, a stinkbug this time, nine feet tall, heaved across an undersized man– wearing

what seemed to be tethered clothing within different gadgets. One of the mosquito’s multiple

arms carried a fragmented duffle bag, another clawed at the “suspect”.

“Please, you have to believe me!” Ein begged once more before realizing an infectious

problem– as his hands rapidly started to bleed out of control due to the mosquito’s bite marks.

“We can discuss this further once we see proof. Now you’ll have no choice but to follow

us.”

“Please... Please don’t do this”

“It’s within our system to follow orders, sir.” The authority stifled, them as they pushed

their way through the city halls, leaving little droplets of blood behind their trail.

The stagnant sensation ignited throughout Ein’s body as he cried over and over for any

sort of resemblance of hope. The way authority wouldn’t even hesitate to hear him out made him

cower in fear. He didn’t have a single clue of what was going to happen to him– nor would he

ever figure it out by himself.

A watchful stare consisted throughout the entire building, the same haunting laughter
ignited within the stares as spilled words loitered across the building.

I’m sorry, Nana. I am. If only things were different– maybe then,

I’d be recognized.