The world layed quiesced, had been for a while. That which was the great United States of America had f***ed itself. The scintillating jewel of the earth was now a squalid heap of junk. Those of us unfortunate enough to dwel here, those of us unlucky enough to not have our eyes gouged out, raped, hung, shot, mutilated or whatever else could kill you live in what could hardly be dubbed as slums. What used to be towering triumphs of a generation long since gone have now been reduced to masses of rubble, just like us. Or at least that's what it's like here, or The Garden. 

I've never been able to depart from this s***hole of a place I begrudgingly call "home". Apparently there's no place like home but there's also no place like the garbage heap so draw comparisons if you'd like. This "home" of mine, the so lovingly named "Rydenville", has been the Blights s***-staple since 2033. Rydenville has it all, a population of a whoppinng 253, plenty of rats, infestation, a huge pile of rubble which used to be a strip mall, you name it, Rydenville's got it.

Life is a somber mess of starvation, thirst, pain, and whatever else you can chuck into the mic. Rydenville is a mess. Small children scuttle along the cracked sidewalk, dirt kicking up behind them as they chase each other with sticks while playing "Gladiator", people residing on the streets begging for sustenence, anything to keep them alive for one more gruelinf day. A small, emaciated man, whose sullen looking eyes, bloodied lips, rotting teeth, and ash-blackened nose show the unending ceaseless pain the man has endured. The only standiong building that was not torn away by the horrors of "The Purge" is now known as "Jacksons Tavern", it is, as the name states, a tavern, people go to and from, it's where the older citizens of Rydenville congregate, we use it as a way to forget about life for a while, to forget our past transgressions, whatever they may be. I had just gotten done at my daily job, guarding the Rydenville trading posts, it hardly payed anything, but anthing is something here.

Walking towards the tavern, I noticed a sign posted up on a window, light flooding out from the inside. The sign, torn at the edges, crudely plastered onto the dust covered glass, was a "WANTED" sign. On it was a large picture of a man, the man wore a ragged leather padding, he had a large red scar on the right side of his neck, like a claw or something, he had a short beard, scraggly and brown and unkempt, his hair was jet bllack, and it was combed back and greased heavily. is face was intimidating, the dirty, carved features of his face and the large, menacing grin he wore on his face sent a shiver down my spine.

As I walked through the battered wooden door, a familiar scent caught my attention, the smell of alcohol flooded my nostrils, it was the only tolerable smeel in this entire f***ing town. The sounds of chatter, drinks being drunk, glass being clammed down upon a wooden bar counter as a large burly man downed a shot. Alcohol was one of the only few wars a man could leave his reality, live in themselves for a while. I noticed that women were dancing on tables in the hopes that men would give them a coin or two, it was an easy way to make extra money, even if was hardly any. Some of them were toying with then men, trying to squeeze whatever pocket change they had out of them, and most of the men did give them some, they were suckers for a little "entertainment", I myself don't care much for them, I prefer to not dabble in the art of promiscuity

As I scout around the tavern, I noticed several things. The schedule board was missing some employees, their names crudely crossed out on the chalkboard. I noticed two men walking around pickpocketing unsuspecting drunks, as some sort of ironic punishment. I also noticed my good friend Danny, Dan was speaking to a younger lad, the young boy looked confused, but fascinated, all in the same moment. As I was gliding over to Dan, he held up his hand to me, signalling for me to keep shushed. "What do you want, O'Henry?" he said with some sort of snarl. "Relax Dan, I just want to know what the chatters about over here" I exclaimed. "Well, our little pal here..""Ryan" the young man interjected. There was a silence from the for about a second, and Dan had a sort of glare on his face. "Ryan, don't interuppt me, if there's anything I hate more than this f***ing slum it's being interruppted" Dan said, his voice sounding faintly like a growl. "Now, as i was saying, I was just telling twerp here about 'The Purge', why we're in thes dump. May I continue?" Dan said sarcastically. "Alright" I said.

"Well, it all started back in 2032, about 3 years ago next month. The US Government was obsessd with perfecting the human body, ridding it of disease, making it beautiful. Luckily, this was a period of economical superiority, we had it all, low crime rates, a superb military, the market was booming, everything was peachy keen. This was also a period of scientific advances, we cured cancer, we got the first astronaut to Mars, we were even able to send a high tech submarine to the very bottom of the ocean. Eventually, we even found the vaccine to the common cold, and we couldn't wait to get it to every single person possible. Soon, the common cold was nearly eradicated, almost, some people didn't want it, some people didn't get it, some were allergic to it, there were a lot of special cases. But then people started getting sick, which mad them mad, really mad. They were outraged, they had been made sick. But then it came, the Blight. The Blight was the last symptom of the sickness, people found out that they couldn't reproduce, they were infertile, men an women alike. This tipped people of the edge. By the time the news broke out, most of the worlds countries had already suffered the same fate. People were furious, rioters tore apart entire cities, which then threw the country into some sort of civil war. The military tried their best to stop the rioters, but they were too much, they couldn't poosibly kill everyone. So, the government did the only thing they could..." Dan reached into the pockets of his long coat and pulled out a picture. It was the Garden. It is what used to be Emporia, Kansas, and is now surrounded by towering steel walls sprinkled with small structures with armed men inside of them. Searchlights encompassed the entirety of the wall and it was heavily guarded. It was somewhat beautiful, knowing that inside was safety, complete safety. "'Operation Safehome' they called it, the government, with what was left of their military, fled to Emporia, a place virtually untouched by the Blight due to a massive delivery mishap of the vaccine. It is where all of the uninfected people live, and they stil continue to gather people from the outside. It is a paradise. But we out here are left to just f***ing die." Dan slammed his knife through the table, narrowly missing Ryans hand. Ryan quickly retreated his hand, and he wore a shocked expression on his face. Dans head fell into his hands and he started to cry. "..they took my wife with them. Although I'm glad she's safe in there and not out here, I just want to see her face again, her soft blue eyes, her rosy cheeks and glistening blonde hair and..." he couldn't finish, he was practically choking on his own pain and misery. We missed them, we all did, our loved ones, the ones we lost, whether they were killed, taken, missing or whatever else happened we all missed them. The tavern was silent, everyone had seemingly frozen in time, some were crying with Dan, while others were reliving every painful moment they associated with losing someone in their heads. We had to be depressed, we had to be angry, we had to be confused, we had to hold on to what makes us human. We had to feel, somehow.

I went to comfort dan, but he refused. Dan used to be a man of reform, before everything went to s***. He had a family, a wife and two kids. Janice, his wife, was taken into the Garden during the Purge, she was of the only in her family who had not been vaccinated, she had an appointment on the 18th of June, the day after the Purge began. Dan doesn't talk about the chldren, to anyone other than Dan it's a mystery. 

I couldn't stand being in that tavern anymore, I had to get out. As I walked out the door I felt a warm breeze kiss my cheek, and I felt a small fraction of joy, something even though it is so small, you have to appreciate it. It was dark now, the man in the moon scowled down at the earth, as if he knew what humanity had done to it. The littered streets of Rydenville gave off an indescribable glow about them, the sound of my footsteps reveberated through an alleyway as I passed by. As I neared my home, I walked along the cracked sidewalk and peered into one of the windows from afar. A figure stood in the window, the arms of it moved tirelessly and the long scraggled hair that cascaded over its shoulders grossly shone as the moonlight bounced off of it. It was my mother, she was cooking a "meal" for when I got home, and I highly exaggerate the word "meal". I was starving, I couldn't wait to get inside and chow down what food mother had made.

As I walked up the worn wooden stairs and up to the door I heard a light sound, a patting of what seemed like footsteps. Before I could even turn to face the sound I felt a searing, blistering pain in my back. My mouth opened, but no sounds came out. I felt a surge throughout my wholr body and I became stiff. I felt my legs weaken and I fell to the grounf, staring up at the scowling man in the moon. All of a sudden, the moon was gone, replaced by the face of another man, but this one had a body attached to it, and it was kneeling over me. It was the man in the "WANTED" sign, his features grossly exaggerated as he was right in front of me. He was more grotesque, lanky, his jet black hair even greasier than in the photo, his scar now shared his neck with another, newer scar, the scars formed what looked like a ring around his neck. Before I knew it, him and two other men with him were searching my pockets and taking everything I had on me. The two other men with him rushed into my home. I couldn't move, I was paralyzed, I couldn't even scream except for a little wail as I heard my mother screaming. The man pulled something out of his pocket, put it to his mouth and lit it, as the two others came out, one of them holding a blade of serrated steel, covered in blood.

The two men also carried bags, which were now filled with whatever they could grab. I now noticed that they all wore similar outfits, brown, ragged coats with many pockets and black pants. I noticed that their coats all had a patch on the left shoulder, they looked newer than the coats themselves. I maden out the words "The Jackals" and "Fight to Live" on them. "Sorry about this by the way, nothing personal, but business is business." the wanted man said as he flicked ashes from what I could only assume was a cigarette. He leanes over me and looked me dead in the eye, and started to grin. I couldn't feel anything now and I could feel myself slipping, everything was getting so dark. This was it, this was the end, visions of my life were dancing before my eyes and I could hear familiar voices in my head. As I let out my final breath, and before everythingg went dark, the wanted man put something small on my chest, it could have been a note, and he grinned one last time as he walked away. As soon as he left my sight, it was all over, everything had gone dark, forever.