Dystopian Scrawlings

         Kermit wasn’t sure of many things. So much had changed within his short life. The name of the country he lived in, the people he called his parents, even his own name-they were all different from when he had been born during the last plague, caught by a granny woman in the log cabin his great-grandfather had built over a century before.
         But he was sure of 2 things. He was born to be a musician, and he loved Jolene. The last thing was much more important than the first, for he could live without music, although he would morn in greatly. He couldn’t live without Jolene. She was pure sugar, sunshine on a dark day. The sweetest thing he knew.
         He was 17, her same age. Had they lived in Heritage State, 15 miles away, they would have already married and would have children running around their own mini-farm. But on this side of the mountain, in Hope State, you had to be 18 to marry. That would be in 8 months’ time, just long enough to win her hand in marriage and take her for his own. He knew that she would be his, that God had put them together and she belonged to him. Her family knew that. His family knew that. It would just be a matter of time before she understood it also.
         He woke up that Saturday thinking he would serenade her later. The good part of living in Hope State and not Heritage was that you could still get wine easily, even if you were under the mandatory age. Her parents liked him, and they would push her out the door easy enough so he could take her on a moonlight stroll. They could walk down to the pond behind her house, eat steak and drink wine under the stars. He would sing to her. Maybe she would allow him to kiss her this time.
         His daydream was interrupted by the ringing of church bells. The community signal for trouble. He hoped it was just a small forest fire again or medical emergency. Those were easily solved, and he could still see Jolene that evening.
But he heard the radio as he left his bedroom. “Take positions for imminent attack!”
         “Maybe it’s a false alarm,” his father said to his mother, who had her head in her hands. “But we must act like it’s not. Heritage doesn’t play nice.”
         Kermit’s stomach lunged. Heritage had started a war the week before, to take over land right outside its territory, under the premise that God wanted to expand the Holy kingdom to the secular nations around it. So far it had only invaded 2 small towns and taken one. There had been the hope that Kermit’s community was too small for Heritage to care about. It looked like that was a false hope.
         Kermit was still technically a child, so he had to go to the town square, away from the interstate that connected the town to the Heritage border. It made him mad that he didn’t’ get to fight, but at least he got to spend time with Jolene. He would protect her life if he needed to.
He spotted her, along with her little brother Chip, on the courthouse steps. She was crying, making her even more attractive in his eyes. He put a hand on her shoulder, but she shook it away, shaking her head.
         “Do you ever give up?” she asked between sobs.
         “For you, never,” he said.
         The conversation was cut short with a cry of “they’re coming! Take position!” from the church bell tower, the lookout point for downtown. Over the ridge, Kermit could see pickup trucks with green-attired men holding machine weapons in the rear. The Heritage army. He clenched his fists.
         Everyone was ushered into the courthouse. He followed Jolene and Chip into a tiny courtroom on the second floor. The blinds were pulled down, the lights turned out. A “shh” went over the crowd, as small children were given pacifiers to quell their crying. For a moment, all was still.
         They heard a loud banging of the door being forced in, running on the stairs. A wail began of crying and screaming. In the chaos, Kermit reached out to Jolene, and this time she opened his arms to him. He tried not to outwardly smile. He had her. That was worth all the conflict in the world.
         A dozen men rushed into the courtroom, guns drawn. There was more screaming. Some of the older children fell onto the floor, and the unmistakable odor of urine and feces flooded the room. Kermit’s shoes got wet with vomit as a boy behind him vomited. He held Jolene tightly, and felt the weight of Chip, who she was holding.
         A middle-aged man who had muscles like a bodybuilder held up a megaphone. Other soldiers took positions around the room.
         “The good news is, we’re not occupying this space,” the leader said, without an introduction. There were sighs of relief from some of the older children, and a few “thank Gods.”
indent}“The bad news is, we’re low on some things. So, we need our brothers and sisters in this community to help us out, in the name of Jesus.”
         “We ain’t got nothing here,” Tony Lu, the student class president, screamed, from the back of the room.
         “That’s where you’re wrong,” the bodybuilder said. “Another team is getting food and mineral provisions. But you have something that we desperately need.” He licked his lips. “We need more babies to grow God’s heavenly kingdom. For that, we need more healthy women.”
          Gasps went through the crowd. Terrible things happened to women in Heritage. They were property, made to marry early and have as many babies as possible. Many times, they died in childbirth, because Heritage did not believe in modern medicine. At best, they spent life with a broken body, a slave to constant childbearing and endless housework and parenting.
         “We’ll just choose a few of the best-looking and be on our way,” the leader said.
         “I thought you were Christians,” a shaky high voice said.
          “We are, following the war principles of the Old Testament,” the leader said. “You can be the first one to come with us.” A soldier pushed the girl to the front. It was Prudence Thompson, who liked to run her mouth. She would have a hard time in Heritage. Kermit felt a moment of empathy, but just a moment.
         Twenty-one more girls were chosen, pushed to the judge’s chair, where they crowded in one big pile of fear and tension. But Jolene was safe. Kermit held her tighter, hoping that she would be ignored. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when the leader said “I think we’re about set to go.”
          Then, the leader, turned around, as if he had forgotten something. “I almost didn’t see this one,” he said. He pulled Jolene away from Kermit, even as Kermit tried to hold onto her with all his might. Chip cried out and reached out for Kermit, but Kermit just stood, stunned.           “It looks like I saved the best for last,” the leader said, handing Jolene over to a soldier, who pushed her towards the judge’s seat.
         “You can’t take her,” Kermit said. “She belongs to me.”
          “A sacrifice for God’s kingdom,” the leader said.
          “Just keep my brother safe,” Jolene said, quietly.
         “A Godly woman,” the leader said. “That we will do.”
         “No!” Kermit screamed. No one could take what was his! He melted into a ball on the floor, dazed and paralyzed with shock. When he came to his senses, she was gone.
         And he felt nothing but rage.