The cold, cement ground was the only thing that kept him planted to reality. He sat there, legs pushed up against his chest, arms wrapped tightly around, chin resting on knees, in silence. They all were silent. The eerie glow of a television that was older than him illuminated the group. The signal was weak, and he could hear the static more than the news. Someone was fidgeting with the antennas, trying to get a better picture. Aiden knew it wasn’t going to get better-- they were fifty feet underground surrounded by a half a foot of cement-- radio waves were far and few between. But he didn’t say anything. He understood that some people needed to be kept busy in times like this. His eyes stung from the tears and from staring at the screen for too long. He sniffed his nose. The air was damp and stagnant. The earthy undertones and rusty scent hung heavily in the air. There were moments of nervous chatter, where people would ask what the news just said or whether they heard from a family member, but the majority of time was engulfed in silence. In darkness. Some were praying. Some were crying. The feeling of dread was so abundant Aiden could taste it. Water stains were etched around the poorly lit room, and Aiden could hear water dripping from the corner. It was his clock, counting down to the moment where he would lose his sanity. He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes, isolating himself from the quiet desolation. The concrete sent chills down his spine. How did this happen? He thought to himself. How did we end up like this?
~~~*~~~
It started with the jokes. The “jokes”. They were never funny, but it sure caught people’s attention. He demanded we build a wall-- like China.
“You see, it’s quite simple,” someone started, mocking his nasally and distinctly unintelligent tone: “A country’s greatness can only be measured by the size of the wall bordering around it. Look at China--”
“By the way, people say I don’t like China. I love China,” someone else chimed in. Everyone laughed.
“They have the Great Wall of China,” he continued. “They’re very great. Look at America. We don’t have a wall. What does that say about us? We have to be like China.” The emphasis on China brought even more laughter. “It is the only way to make America great again.”
“The man is obsessed with China,” Aiden stated. “It’s not 200 B.C, dude. We don’t need to keep any warring tribes out.”
“Yeah,” someone responded. “We have to keep the Mexicans out though.” The crowd laughed. Aiden didn’t. It wasn’t funny.
~~~*~~~
“Did you hear about his new foreign policy proposal?” Aiden was asked in the halls as he was walking to class.
He took out his earbud and began swinging it around his finger. Not having a clue, he responded sarcastically, “Oh yeah, he’s banning everyone from entering the US. We don’t ever have to worry about immigrants again. Smart guy. Glad he’s running for president.”
“No dude, he’s just banning Muslims.”
Aiden stopped in the middle of the busy hallway. “Wait, what?”
“Yeah, and he’s also gonna make all US muslims wear armbands too. That way he can keep track of them easier. I’m not racist or anything--” Right. “--but it probably is the smartest thing to do to be honest.”
Aiden shook his head. He couldn’t shrug off the eerie flashbacks of World History when he learned that Hitler forced Jews to wear armbands to “warn” the other citizens. He also recalled the 1st Amendment, where freedom of religion is pretty blatantly stated. He didn’t know whether to be scared by the fact that the man actually proposed the idea, people think it’s a smart idea, or that he can’t grasp the most basic concept of what America stands for.
~~~*~~~
“What a complete idiot,” Aiden murmured under his breath. He propped his legs up on the ottoman and linked his hands together around the back of his neck. His face showed disgust. The more he heard, the deeper the frown, the meaner the glare. Every time the man opened his mouth, Aiden closed his eyes and counted to ten.
“You have bragged that you have sexually assaulted women,” the commentator said. “Do you understand that?”
He sniffed right into the microphone-- God, why was he sniffing so much? “No, I didn’t say that at all. I don’t think you understood what was said.”
Aiden laughed angrily. “Right,” he started. “That’s like telling him ‘two plus two equals four’, and based off of his logic he’d say, ‘wrong. I don’t think you understand what math is. Two plus two equals five.’” At this point, Aiden had driven himself to talk out loud to nobody from pent up frustration.
“I will knock the hell out of ISIS,” he continued, sniffing again.
Aiden rolled his eyes. “Way to stay on topic.”
“I have great respect for women. Nobody has more respect for women than I do. I have tremendous respect for women, and women have respect for me.”
“Bet.” His rage got to him. He turned off the television to block out the mindless droning, picked up the soccer ball lying on the living room floor, and went outside.
~~~*~~~
Nothing the man said was constructive. He had no plans. No ideas to improve the country. No interest in creating or maintaining foreign relationships. Sure, he spoke his mind. But by the time he finished speaking, no one wanted to know what was going on in his mind. He built his campaign on anger. He told the resentful the government was evil. He wasn’t part of the establishment. He could fix it. But he didn’t tell how. Because he didn’t know how. He fuelled hate. And denied it. He was the epitome of what the people hated about the government: lying, deceitful, secretive, loud, obnoxious, rude, excluding, egotistical, unproductive, pessimistic, stubborn, and refusing to compromise. He also brought things that the government frowned upon that he took a blind eye to: sexism, misogyny, racism, islamophobia, xenophobia, ignorance, derogatory insults, bullying, white supremacy, and the fear of the unknown, because he believes to know all.
Aiden picked up on this, along with many others. But he wasn’t scared, as the others were. He was angry. He would crawl out of his bedroom window in the middle of the night. The chilling breeze rushed across his face and his senses amplified. His bare feet gripped against the grainy shingles as he would slowly move across the sloped surface. He’d lie down, facing the stars. He spread his fingers out one by one, palms flat on the roof. The moon illuminated the sky. He took deep breaths. He felt so alive, so firmly connected to reality. He would stare into the night sky. To everyone he knew, the night sky was just darkness. It was just the reflection of an empty vacuum of lifeless mystery and an insignificance to their daily lives. But he knew otherwise.
To Aiden, the night sky was filled with light-- light so bright and extraordinary he couldn’t help but smile watching its brilliance swirl around the heavens like fireworks. He knew space wasn’t dead; to him, it was a superhighway. His deep blue eyes swam with curiosity and he absorbed everything. Colors that no other human could comprehend were clear and radiant as they juxtaposed the dark backdrop. Radio waves moved with lethargy. The cell tower just across the street shot the light up into space like an alien beacon. Microwave and infrared light buzzed hazily all around, revealing the temperatures of all of the animals, of all the people, of all of space. Traces of the temperature released from the Big Bang was everywhere. While scientists speculated over it, Aiden could see it. Visible light held a new depth of genius. Colors were more vibrant and distinctive. He could differentiate a shade from another by a millionth of a degree. Ultraviolet rays were fewer at night, but he could still detect its signature hue emanating from the moon; the sun’s rays just reflected off it, after all. X-rays were rare and random, snaking through the sky like a lightning bolt. Thankfully, Aiden hadn’t ever seen gamma light. It would probably be the last thing he would see: the radiation wouldn’t turn him into the Hulk, to say the least.
He would look at the world in awe. No one could see it like him. No one could understand the depth of our universe like he could, and he was just a junior in high school. Aiden, however, knew his world was just a little brighter and he still had much to learn. It was the others, those that believed they had everything figured out in this superficial society, that he would look at with, above all, exasperation. They had no idea. They will always have no idea. The refusal to look at anything from a different perspective, the denial that any other suggestion is valid, the superiority complex he noticed many wear, drove him insane. So many lived in a world of darkness and never searched for the light.
~~~*~~~
Then it continued to Election night. Aiden had the TV on while the votes rolled in. It was late at night, and he was searching for anything to do to avoid the pile of homework he hadn’t started. He sat on the floor with his back against the edge of the couch. Papers were sprawled everywhere. His laptop screen dimmed from the inactivity. As the night trudged on, the knots in his stomach tightened. What seemed to be a simple procrastination tactic hours ago turned into a twisted nightmare real quick. He sat there, shoulders slumped, mouth open, with a growing pit in his stomach. The feeling of dread loomed over like a dense cloud. He couldn’t focus on homework now. Not when something so big and destructive was happening. He wanted to look away. He wanted to believe it was just a dream. That it wasn’t real. But he knew better. He wasn’t going to drown in ignorance like so many others. He won, Aiden thought to himself. The idiot won, he repeated, trying to wrap his mind around it. Lord, have mercy on our souls. He didn’t bother going to bed. He didn’t even bother moving to the couch. He laid down on his side, hands tucked under his head, legs curled up to his stomach, staring blankly into space. While America was falling apart, he saw the light. It hadn’t changed. He closed his eyes, wrapped up in a ball within his chaotic living room, within his chaotic country, remembering that there’s always light, even when others fail to see it. We have to give him a chance, he thought, drifting to sleep. Maybe he won’t suck as much as I think he will.
~~~*~~~
Things changed after his inauguration. His face looked redder, his hair looked grosser-- Aiden didn’t think that was possible, but it was--, and his temperament shriveled to nonexistence. His angry outbursts at the media and foreign leaders startled everyone. Rude comments towards minorities fuelled even more protests.
Aiden tried to ignore it. He became quieter in school and put both earbuds in as he walked through the halls instead of just one. He would stare off blankly during lessons, counting off the radio waves passing by the school. Soccer was an escape. He held the ball at all times. He would juggle in the hallway and aimlessly drag it around the floor as he sat in the back of his classes. When school ended, he would walk over to the field, put his cleats on, and play. He didn’t invite anyone along. Solitude on the field with the ball gave him peace of mind. There was no better feeling.
Anger spread throughout the country. Hate crimes climbed exponentially. The news was in a constant state of tragedy. Tensions worsened between nations that were former enemies and grew between even the most peaceful countries. Treaties were broken, alliances shattered. The US was on an island, all alone. That’s what he wanted, after all. No one outside the US liked him. No one trusted him. Terror reigned. Hope was in decline.
~~~*~~~
“Yeah, it’s pretty much the Cold War part two.”
“Except it’s against every nation on this entire planet.”
Aiden took out an earbud. “What’s going on?” he asked. He heard the mumbling come from a group of people huddled together in the back corner. Some sat on desks, trying to look composed and nonchalant, while others were standing with their backpacks on, arms crossed tightly. They turned around and looked at Aiden with disbelief.
“You didn’t hear?” one asks him.
“It’s been all over the news. Where have you been?” someone else asks, baffled.
He took the other earbud out. “I’ve been avoiding the news recently. Nothing good comes from it.” It was the first time he had talked to his classmates in a while. “What’s going on?”
The group looked at each other. “Our awesome president has issued an executive order to quadruple our nuclear weapons stock.”
“What?” he responded in disbelief. “He can’t do that. How can he do that?” The feeling of dread loomed over him again.
“He’s the commander in chief. It’s in the Constitution. He can’t be denied.”
“Yeah. The whole world is flipping out.”
“Oh my God,” Aiden whispered, a look of worry drawn plainly on his face.
“People always say they want to live in the 50s,” someone said, trying to lighten up the mood and break the silence that followed. “Guess they got what they wanted.” Some laughed nervously in an effort to hide the feeling of pure terror.
Aiden could tell. The whole group of them were sweating up a storm. Infrared doesn’t lie. He put his earbuds back in and turned around as the teacher told the group to sit down. A lump formed in his throat. It wasn’t just words this time. Granted, words are destructive, but they’re not nuclear war destructive. People were going to die. So many people. Who could’ve predicted humanity’s fall would be at the hands of an orange troll? He closed his eyes. Light wasn’t going to be able to help with this.
~~~*~~~
The atmosphere at school the next day seemed strange. Aiden could feel it.
“Take the American flag, for example,” the Precalc teacher started, drawing a triangle on the board. “It’s tradition and respectful to fold it into a triangle, like this.” she pointed the marker to the poorly drawn triangle on the whiteboard. “Does anyone know what is shown when the flag is folded properly?”
“The stars,” someone responded after a lengthy silence.
“That’s right,” the teacher said, nodding her head with approval. “Now, I know many of you aren’t feeling too patriotic right now,” she scanned the room to see worried frowns, “but I just need you to keep this in mind: the stars are shown for a reason. Perhaps,” she paused, “it’s a reminder to all Americans that no matter how tough life gets, light will shine through even the darkest of times.” Some lowered their heads, some sniffed their nose, and others let tears roll down their cheeks.
“Too bad no one knew what nuclear weapons were when the American flag was designed” Aiden responded. The whole class turned and looked at him.
She stopped and turned to Aiden. “Well, aren’t we chatty today, Mr. Litern. I’m sure you would love to tell us how to solve the triangle too. That includes the sides and the angles. Which trig function do you want to use first--”
The alarm went off, interrupting Aiden’s public humiliation. The door slammed open. The principal stood in the doorway, hair askew and tie loosened: “It happened. Get them underground. Now.”
~~~*~~~
Aiden opened his eyes. It was still dark. He was still in the vault. There were still whimpers. The television still flickered in and out of reception. He still didn’t know what had actually happened. All he had heard was variations of the phrase, “He hit first. They’re coming for us.” He still didn’t even know where his parents were. Cell phones were useless. He filled with insurmountable worry and terror. His eyes wandered frantically for something he could pinpoint as hope. But there was nothing. He took deep breaths, inhaling the nervous air and trying to channel himself back into reality. It was so dark. He was so scared. So alone. So broken.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a dot of light. It was tiny, but began to slowly grow. It was bright; he had to squint his eyes while looking at it. Suddenly, the television cleared up. The man himself stood up on the podium, disheveled, disgusting, and angry.
“I am the only man that can fix the US.”
The light was the size of a basketball now. Aiden couldn’t get over how bright it was. He looked up at the ceiling where it was growing. Why was no one else paying attention to this?
“I am the only man that can--”
It grew bigger.
“Make.”
It covered the ceiling.
“America.”
It quickly crawled down the walls.
“Great.”
It highlighted the faces of fifty tear-stricken classmates and teachers comforting them and reached the floor. With horror, Aiden realized what was going on.
“Again.”
Gamma rays. It was gamma rays.
“It’s coming!!” he screamed, fear clinging to his mind as he desperately tried to cover his head with his arms.
But it was too late. Nothing could stop the light.