If only she could see the damage caused. I still hold on hope that she will return to me. Only all of this is a wish that will never come true, because Aubrey can never come back to this place and I can never leave. Too much power put in the wrong place will do that to your life.

My name is Aiden Briers, if you are reading this and you don’t know who I am then I will give you a boring background about myself. I am currently thirty-one years old and was just dismissed from the Navy Seals about six months ago. I didn’t want to be discharged; I would keep fighting if that were a possibility. I was injured beyond repair on my last tour in China; my team was ordered to take back hostages being held on the beach. The war with the Chinese was becoming brutal and ruthless. Our team was in the submarine when we were bombarded. A Chinese ship had hit us from the side and the sub began filling with water as well as my lungs. I ejected myself to the surface just in time but I had to have immediate surgery. Now I live with one lung. Being the Navy commander I had connections to the White House and American government. The new president was kind enough to set me up as a gardener. Now here I am.

Also, if you are unaware about this “new president”, the first female leader of the United States, then I guess I must fill you in on her too. Aubrey Collins, the most hauntingly beautiful world leader I have ever laid eyes on. She was a curse to this country, and me, still is but she’s not as prominent now. Aubrey won the election in 2016. She only led this country for a half a year and she managed to run it into the ground. She hired me in December; It is now June and we’re all screwed. Basically, Aubrey Collins cared about no one but herself; I was astounded the people of America elected her in the first place. Looking back, I assume I would have voted for her too, but by listening to her speeches it was obvious her only goal for this country was an uprising. That was exactly what transpired, full-blown chaos around every corner and a country in ruins.

Aubrey was observant, flaunting and confident in her choices. I never really expected to get attached to her. She was the type of girl who had it all figured out; behind her intoxicating looks was an addictive personality. She was calculating and conniving but all she craved was for someone to understand her. I saw it in her eyes one day when she came to the gardens. Aubrey would come out and walk over to the patch of blue aster flowers. You could tell she was deep in thought. I never said hello or goodnight. I just watched her pace the gardens, until one night in early February she came outside in a tank top and shorts. That was an odd wardrobe during the winter so I walked over to her and wrapped my coat around her shoulders. She kept staring at her feet so I lifted her head up so she had to look me in the eyes. Aubrey was on the verge of tears, and when I wrapped my arms around her she broke down. After that night I became her confidant. She came to the gardens every night to see her asters but began talking to me only after all the staff had left. We would always glance at each other than dart our eyes away quickly. Of course our relationship could never be publicly announced. Our relationship would destroy Aubrey’s already teetering image to the country. The secret meetings and late night chats had to be kept as they were. From February to June we grew close enough for her to ask for my help. Aubrey knew what was coming, the uprising, she asked me where she could hide. We made preparations for a month, until the day came where she had to run without me. My war injury prevented me from going and she could never write me or call again. The last time I saw Aubrey Collins was when she stepped onto the little plane and turned to give me a princess goodbye wave.

Now it is late August and I haven’t heard a word from Aubrey. The Chinese have taken over America and have been controlling us since July. It has been brutal and difficult; I spent a month in a hospital until they released me. With nowhere else to escape to, I walked to the White House, now almost completely in ruins. Dust and ash float through the sky as remains of the bombings. I walked through what was left of the once incredible building and headed to the garden. Destruction and labor is in every city, well, what is left of the cities. The garden out back, which was once flourishing with life, is now a dark, grey hole for dead things. The bombs destroyed my garden and dead leaves are struggling to hang on to their branch. I walked around the ash bushes and spotted something peculiar. A spark of hope, a blue aster flower placed in a corner. The only color I have seen in months since she left. This last flower helps me hold on hope in my search to find you once again.