Diana Kurniawan

All the almond milks in the world won't explain the lightbulb frenzy at Knox. People trampled over each other, and the isles were blown apart. A whole crowd of people were in a hurry to get to the check lane to purchase all of the light products. Some bought flashlights, and some bought desk lamps and floor lamps and of course, lightbulbs.

 

"What did that Baptiste tell the world?" asked Rambo, in the middle of the crowd of shoppers.

 

"The usual, giving the latest craze for 'The Orderlies," I said. 

 

"What else?" asked Rambo.

 

"Strange things. No more cheddar. No macaroni," I replied.

 

"WHAT!" said Rambo. "That's my food! All of Tier 2 and 3 shoppers will starve!"

 

I looked to him and asked him, "Where could it have gone?"

 

"We don't have time for this. I need us to go to Karina," said Rambo.

 

"First, mint, peppermint, and lavender soap," I told him. I grabbed the towels at the endcap of the aisle and ran to the first aid section and took all the aspirin tubings and stretch-fabric bandages from Tier 1 and went to the check out lane. Rambo followed me and we left Knox and went outside. It was an hour after I got to Knox and it snowed outside. 

 

Rambo took his bicycle from the rack and I jumped on it and rode it with Rambo standing on the wheel spurring and holding on to me on my shoulder.

 

"Go left on Josephine and four miles down, turn left on Downing," said Rambo.

 

We arrived at Downing and 20th, as Rambo jumped off the bicycle and ran to a dilapitated house with a broken gate and a broken glass window with a curtain covering the inside of the house. Rambo knocked on the door and I parked the bicycle and held on to my shoulder pack full of my purchased items.

 

A young girl with taupe skin and slanted eyes opened the door. Her belly bulged, most likely from the pregnancy weight.

 

"No more cheddar. No macaroni," Rambo said.

 

The young girl cried as I ran to her side and held her up. "We'll try to find some as soon as possible," I told her. "What happened to you?"

 

"I gave birth two weeks ago, out of wedlock, and out of my control," she said. "I haven't been able to go anywhere."

 

"How did you get to this house? Do you live here?" I asked her.

 

"She is orphaned like me, and no one knew about it," said Rambo.

 

"Who did this to you?" I asked.

 

"A man with a car," Karina said. 

 

"A CAR? A Baptiste?" I asked.

 

"Possibly," said Rambo. "Who would have a car nowadays?"

 

"I'm Tier 1, we can purchase something else for foods, but let me see your wounds," I asked her.

 

"A man took a knife and almost stabbed me," said Karina, as she lifted her shirt and showed me a slash to the side of her pancreas. I opened my shoulder pack and took my towellette and cleaned the lashed areas as some blood came out. It took all of my travel towellettes to clean it and I crushed all of the aspirin and palpated her lacerations with it. I covered it with the towels and wrapped her with the bandage around her stomach. Karina cried and knelt down and covered her eyes. "It hurts my body too much," she said. 

 

"How did you escape him?" Rambo asked. He was sitting on the ground that was dirty and dusty.

 

"I told him that my body will serve as evidence because I knew some other orphans from online school in the library and they'll find me," Karina said. 

 

"But you didn't tell anyone, and no one in the school knew who you were?" Rambo asked. 

 

I took the peppermints and gave it to Karina and took a mint and gave it to Rambo. "To calm you," I told them. "I have to chew on those in front of my computer, and meditate or my stress goes high levels." I kept the lavender soap and inhaled its scent to my nose to calm myself down. 

 

They sniffed on the mints and inhaled the soothing scent, then chewed it inside their mouths. They closed their eyes and calmed down for a while.

 

"Let's start with a plan," I said. The babies cried, and Karina stood up to run to the other room.

 

"All of the children will starve," said Rambo.

 

Just write. 

Little girls will dance on the streets. Pink ruffles skirts and rainbow socks, with the clouds in the blue sky over us all.

 

The sun shall rise on the East and sunsets on the West. Faithfully, the sun won't disappear as you sometimes felt in mid-day sadness.

 

The birds will chirp on branches in the morning, and they will serenade us on our walks in life.

 

Once, time felt surreal. With the death toll surpassing 27 million in mid-September from a new viral infection. The changes it brought took lives and cost us our economy.

 

This too will one day be over, if we could look above. Knowing that the same stars at night were there when the wheel was first invented, or when lepers walked the streets of the world.

 

What time brought hasn't been comfortable and took some of the best people to a place beyond this Earth. But, where would we be if we didn't look at the sky, the sun, the stars and the clouds and bare with the ever changing weather, as summer changes to fall and winter comes to blossom into spring.

 

Time tested us all, and time tested us still. It won't let us be subject to stagnant progress, for each passing day all of life furthers on, and won't let us be still.

 

Just write.

The sirens went off as all of Knox was at a stand still. The screens on the grocery walls showed an emergency signal of the news. 

 

"For immediate release, our esteemed leader, Giuseppe Baptiste, was seen in front of the Buckingham Palace, where the longest running monarchy once stood in England, overthrown by The New Order and its party," said the news anchor. "Since The New Order came to power, all of the world bow to our esteemeed leader, and it shall be our destiny to still be under his commands and practice conscious shopping at our local grocery stores."

 

Prior to Giuseppe Baptiste, his father was the leader of the New Order, and his father poisoned the latest monarch of England and took over the palace and declared victory. Arose his progeny of leaders who were his daughter, sons, cousins and his in-laws who became statesman and leaders of The New Order all over the Earth. The murder of the British Monarchy were kept under the radar for Giuseppe Baptiste and his ancestors used guerilla warfare and intelligentsia, once a method utilized by the Fascists and Communist Government of the Old World, before the White Plaque.

 

Giuseppe Baptiste stood on the podium, behind the open quadrant in front of the palace, and raised his right palms in the air and spoke into his ear microphones, 

 

"Hail, my dynamo orderlies of the new world,              (Blinked in morse code: N)

thy presence is an aroma of chili and peppers             (Blinked in morse code: O)

scented with an elixir of youth and laborous passion.   (Blinked in morse code: M)

I, your noble leader, hath with divine intention,           (Blinked in morse code: O)

a most unquenchable love for you.                             (Blinked in morse code: R)

Unlike the ancient ceramics of the old world,               (Blinked in morse code: E)

I come bearing gifted annointment of shark tooth        (Blinked in morse code: C)

and bearings of gold and titanium.                          (Blinked in morse code: H)

 

My lovers of my new world, I urge a most desperate    (Blinked in morse code: E)

need of a future dispensation.                                    (Blinked in morse code: D)

Truly all worths of love requieres costs,                        (Blinked in morse code: D)

and let thine cost be my request.                                (Blinked in morse code: A)

To only see the light and nothing else.                         (Blinked in morse code: R)

Be of good soldier with truth in thine heart,                  (Blinked in morse code: N)

What is not more worthy than light itself?                    (Blinked in morse code: O)

 

All energies and fuel be at your call,                             (Blinked in morse code: M)

for my sorrows shall be no more,                                 (Blinked in morse code: A)

once all products of light be diminished and gone.         (Blinked in morse code: C)

As your leader, I ask for your mercy,                            (Blinked in morse code: A)

to give to the light, all that is of request.                      (Blinked in morse code: R)

Everything to be purchased until it disappears.              (Blinked in morse code: O)

Not until then, will you see me as your true star            (Blinked in morse code: N)

of this dark world to follow it anew.                              (Blinked in morse code: I)

 

The people howled, and one man behind me yelled, "Our leader is a THICK, ZESTY, STROGANOFF!!!!"

 

The entire Knox clapped their hands, and as seen on the screen, Giuseppe Baptiste nodded his head forward and stood up, all five feet of him and placed only his right palm up, and the crowd howled more and more.

 

All of London was in frantic for lightbulbs and all lamps and the sirens blared once again. Everyone ran in all directions, shouting,"The Light! The Light! He shall be the light!" Giuseppe Baptiste stepped down from the podium and walked into the palace, to perhaps rest for the remainder of the day.

 

All of Knox, where I stood at this moment, wrecked havoc. Everyone ran to the housewares and lightbulb sections and took as many products as possible. The whole time, I was worried about macaroni and cheese as it seemed his morse code gave me a signal that there would be a cheddar shortage. But how was all this possible? Why lightbulbs? Far were the days of carbohydrate loadings, but I was never a fan of cheddar after all.

 

I stood in place still at the popcorn isle, in midst of madness, as I saw Rambo approaching me.

 

"Jake, I need your help?" Rambo said, out of breath.

 

"Where have you gone? Did you at least ride your bicycle?" I asked him.

 

"No, I walked it. But, I found another one, this time a vulnerable," Rambo said, he turned around as I followed in a hurry. "She was stabbed."

 

In the era of the New World, a vulnerable meant almost homeless. As I followed Rambo, I knew he needed me for aid, first aid to be exact. I knew first aid like my dining table. With my Father as the surgeon at Banner, I was trained since I was in my mother's womb.

 

"Karina is her name, she bore a pair of twins two weeks ago," Rambo said.

 

"How old is she?" I asked.

 

"Twelve," Rambo said. 

 

We ran amongst the crowds of shoppers of all tiers all across Denver, all in a frantic to buy lightbulbs and lamps and anything that would bear light. 

 

Just write.

 

Rexies or not, I had to end the conversation. She was beautiful, but I fear The New Order.

 

After the White Plaque, every nation gathered together and a majority of nations in the world, such as all countries in South America, China, Korea, all of Russia and Africa and United States of America decided to follow The New Order. To synthesize a new method for the betterment of human kind, of a human race that were in political aggreement as the world watched the whole world diverged into parts. Some countries decided to become neutral, such as Norway and Switzerland, Fiji and Australia and some smaller islands nations in the Pacific, but most countries wanted to become a part of The New Order Regime. 

 

The leader chosen was Giuseppe Baptiste, because he could blink in morse code and every word he uttered in speeches became eloquent and graceful. Besides speaking in free verse, he was fluent in Shakespeare and plays the violin. He was a small man with a huge mind and futuristic ideals, and all policemens and policewomen loved him. He was part Italian and French and a descendant of an African Merchant from Nairobi, Kenya. He was a jewel to the world and he had blue eyes, which was recessive since the White Plaque decimated most blue-eyed individuals since they were more easily infected due to genetic recessiveness. Some of these amusing changes baffled me when I learned from my Father, but these things happened, and all kids were taught to fear The New Order.

 

The New Order desires to advance the world through the ideals of those in their circle. To advance The New Order was to advance the human race. To please its circles of allies was the goal of The New Order, and those who were its citizens must work to please the generations of their progenies and their parties, otherwise, one must be forced to emigrate to the coldness of The North Pole and build a new community there to start anew.

 

These were the days of my life.

 

Just write.

In a peaceful meadow I stood on the green grass moist from the morning dew. The skylight was still at dusk as I looked over the weeping willow far yonder. The sky opened at cloud speed and the sun rising with a pinkish hallow. I sat down on the grass, with my flat belly yearning for bedtime stories.

 

"How in all imaginations would I ever see the French Riviera in love?" I wondered. In my white linen dress, with all the purity of my soul as my heart broke in halves because this life was an incubus of scornful men. I wept on the grass with my buttocks wet from the moisture and my face down towards the Earth. Unplanned circumstances led me to a haunting life and although I surrendered, a part of me yearned for the dreams.

 

"Diana!" I heard my Mami's voice and I looked up. "You think too much!"

 

Mami stood holding hands with Papi, in front of the weeping willow. They wore matching blouses of imperial yellow with white linen pants as my Papi waved his hand calling me to come closer.

 

I stood up with excitement as this body was five years old again as I ran down from the hilly meadow to where my parents were. My Papi hugged me as I wrapped my arms around his belly. "I love you, you're my daughter, Diana," he said, endearingly.

 

My Mami hugged me after and told me, "I love you too much," she said, as she wiped her tears. "Don't let go, Mami," I told her.

 

They held me close as I held on as strong as I possibly could, as we walked underneath the weeping willow.

 

"Don't ever let go, Diana," my Papi said.

 

Just write.

The aisles were ghostly because only fifty people were allowed at one time as the attendants kept count. I took a right towards the cereal aisle and looked at the top shelf. The organic cereals were only available for Tier 1 and I wanted to grab the peanut butter and jelly flavor when a sweet voice came from behind me.

 

"PB & J is a classic," she said. I turned around and a wavy haired brunette stood before me.

 

"You shop Tier 1?" I asked. Her voice reminded me of soft rain that chilled my vertebrae.

 

"Afraid so," she smiled and showed me her shoulder with the chip underneath her blouse. 

 

"Let's check," I asked her. Before we could build any form of friendship, The New Order only allowed the same Tiers to communicate or build relationships, and only those who would further the goals of The New Order through inter-marriages would be allowed to date. The New Order restricts dating in certain communities because those who were attractive, intelligent and from high level incomes were picked to benefit the higher tiers, thus benefitting the fulfillment and desires of The New Order to keep the tax levels at a maximum. 

 

We stood back shoulder to shoulder, my left shoulder as all males were to have, to her right shoulder as all females were normally assigned. Then we took our time device with alligned all social medias and all forms of identifications, to synchronize to check if our relationship and communications would benefit The New Order. 

 

Most relationships in our world now, as a matter of fact, most families were formed based on the needs of The New Order Regime and those in the government and its politicians and social circles. If the relationship couldn't be verified as a benefit to the regime, it was forced to be dissolved. 

 

Our synchronizations didn't verify.

 

"I'm sorry," as our time devices beeped an error message. She looked to the floor, and raised her head slowly, "I'm going to end up in Tier 3 in my future. I am so scared," she said. 

 

"You don't know that?" I replied. 

 

"I have a Rexi, would that interest the regime? If I shared my Rexi?" she told me.

 

"Really? Do you have a picture of it?" I was interested.

 

She took her time device and scrolled to her holograms and pushed the button. Rexies were cross-breeds of puppies and calves that became an animal the size of a bear cub with strong legs and arms for our modal of transportation. After The White Plaque, all forms of public transportations were exterminated and only the military and police were to utilize all vehicles. Uber and Lyft were old dominions and they were gone after millions died as their vehicles became a fomite to transmissions for The White Plaque. My Father said it was the most devastating event in history because ever since then, everyone walked and began to raise animals as transportations, and that was how Rexies became a trend. 

 

Other animals such as bears, crocodiles, hippopotamus, seals, goats and everything else also cross-bred but Rexies were swift and docile, whereas everything else were difficult to train.

 

Her Rexi had short hair, and the size of a mid-size bear with calico colors. 

 

"Is it part feline?" I asked, with a smile.

 

"Perhaps in its geneaology, but Rexies are mixed, so there is no way to tell," she said. 

 

"Cute, though," I told her. I placed my palms inside my pants pockets, hiding my time device on my wrist to evade any humiliations on both parts.

 

"I'll take a box of the organic PB & J cereal still," she said.

 

I smiled from ear to ear and felt a jolt inside my gut. Would Rambo approve of this? He's my closest ally.

 

Just write.

I am forgiven, for my past sins and the sins of my Father and those of my ancestors. I am forgiven for the journey that is a struggle and the walk with depression is a constant miracle, away from the devil's plan of total anguish and instant death. This life is forgiven, for anything that I was assaulted for, and for every and any arguments the devils retorts towards God.

 

The life I am is full of mercy and I am a living being of miraculous grace.

 

The forgiveness upon me gives me the right at the King's court and this forgiveness encourages the future, and hate is dumbfounded; because the game that hatred plays is more important than the trophy they claim to earn. I am forgiven for everything that accuses me of sins and I am forgiven for the sins the accusers labels upon me. I am forgiven for every instant evil prayers flies out of the devil's mouth out of deceit, greed, racism and injustice, because this forgiveness wreaks havoc on their selfish needs.

 

Forgiveness is in my best interest and benefits me because the education gives me skills as I walk in joy and fullfilling contentment. I am forgiven because I forgive and strength upholds me and places me at the right hand of God. I love this forgiveness because I breathe in wholeness and love and I even mezmerize the eyes of those who once batters my life. This forgiveness is truth and honesty in the flesh with tangible results that I can touch and marvel as I live with a youthful heart and soul. 

 

I am forgiven with an evergreen forgiveness, especially given to me, and no one else because I am not just special. I am holy and divine because I forgive. I am not crazy because I am forgiven and there will never be any form of insanity about me, for I am diligent and prodigious and victory is a guaranty. I am forgiven and there is no mark of victim over me, instead a mark of love, greatness and favor on my forehead. There is no defeat over me or my life, because I am forgiven and it is a winning sign.

 

Just write.

I wanted to ask Rambo to come with me to Knox. Knox was a five storey building on Colfax that sold everything the way Wal-Mart used to. After the White Plaque, the New Order took office and everything in life was stratified by status and socio-economic levels. The race riots burned everything down, and the plaque killed nearly 25 million people. The New Order became ruthless in death and taxes as surely as it happened in front of our eyes. 

 

I sped up flying over the crowds from the corner of Grant Street, and hit a wall with the end of my paddle and bounced off to the front of Knox. Rambo wasn't anywhere in sight. I was only allowed to shop by "top-shelf" rule due to my Father being a surgeon. Top three shelves only or Tier 1, and the next three was for those in the next lower income bracket, and the lowest income levels shop the last three shelves.

 

The homeless could only shop for only consumables with tokens from the government offices from the vending machine out front near the parking lots of Knox. All the first-aid products were not readily available. All health-related products were the most expensive items and they were rationed by household and income levels. All meats were reduced by size and lean percentage, from the leanest as most expensive only for top-shelvers. All other fatty meats were for those earning Tier 2 at less than $300,000 but more than $100,000, and Tier 3 was less than $100, 000 but more than $35,000. Everything had a code, matched to my ID and my name.

 

I wished I could purchase popcorn by the dozens like the Tier 3ers, because Rambo could buy a 10-pack for $10 from his job as the garbage disposal aid, while my shelves cost me $10 for two bags. I would trade marshmallows with Rambo if he was around.

 

I took my paddle and shrunk it down to fit the inside of my shoulder pack and jumped off my longboard.

 

"ID, please," said the front store attendant.

 

I showed him my shoulder and the chip scanned on his scanner gun.

 

"Tier 1 only," he said.

 

I breathed in, and walked inside.

 

Just write.

 

 

My mind had a curly-cue of thoughts that spiraled this morning, and I was tired by 8 am. Breathing didn't do and I tried to put away thoughts of my oppressors, those who harmed me, but the memories silenced and shunned me. I locked my own jaw from the racing thoughts and I walked outside and touched a leaf. The Corinthians spoke and captured my thoughts, as I inhaled deep and spoke life to myself.

 

There was never anything wrong with writing, as my life felt like it depended on it. Writing will keep me alive, and not even the devil could stop me. Negative thoughts told me that I was no good, and my writing would never be seen, or appreciated, and the devil won. Hot tears flowed down my face, but my mask soaked it.

 

It was more difficult to entertain the vortex inside my brain than to let it go. I surrendered and told God, "take me as I am and promise to keep me alive," as if a pair of angel ears were listening. Right now, the world won't keep turning based on negativity. The world will keep turning for optimism, hope, faith, love and humanity. I won't live for the negative, instead I will breathe in the positive, the truth, and the life. I won't stop writing, although it felt hopeless and it felt like no one wanted me to write.

 

Writing was free, and it felt honest and beautiful and will keep me going. I will surrender more, read more, learn more, and embrace the unknown. It already happened, because my writing was done long ago and it lived on. I won't think less of my craft or compare, because to each their own when it came down to it. Every prose concocts out of the immersion from the soul of the writer's life, and it was never for comparison.

 

The sadness won't dampen me, instead I will trade it on these empty pages. Writing it down and typing it aways, and letting it live to be an example for those who might experienced the same. Every writer had their sorrows, and I was no different.

 

Just write.

I stood up from my after-school meditation, because today's practicum via Fox.org gave me a migraine. Hybrid high school wasn't the same after the White Plaque. Coronavirus was so yesterday, because the vaccine worked well and I got my shots just two weeks ago for the four times a year recommended dose. But, the White Plaque truly was something else. It gave me chills for three days, yet milder than the CoVid19. 

 

Outside felt right just now, so I took my Street Paddle elongated to its five feet maximum length with a rubber bottom. Passive enough for a toy, but as aggressive as the Shaolin Kung-Fu Wooden Stick. I grabbed my granola cubes and pistachios packets and put them inside my shoulder pack. I took my longboard and turned on its anti-gravity button, and shoved the remote in my pocket. I stood on it, and it synchronized with my street paddle. I opened my bedroom door and flew downstairs to bid my farewells for the afternoon.

 

"Dad, leaving. Need time for myself. I'm going to see, Rambo," I told my Father.

 

"Don't stay out too late. By 7, the sirens will come on in our zone. It's Denver, and not the country side, so check the time," he said.

 

Rambo lived with his sister near the old Five-Points, now labeled as Zone 5, where the emancipated orphan youth were allowed to live independently. He never knew what it felt like to wear spray deodorant. I tried it on when I was five, but it wasn't anything special.

 

Flying by Colfax was like a mall. Everyone had their hoods on and their masks with protective goggles. The White Plaque attacks the cornea and could lead to blindness. Crap for some homeless folks, most became blind and they never received their indigence benefits due to no permanent address.

 

My stomach growled and my granola cube was out of reach, so I took my pistachio packet  and ripped it apart thenemptied the content into my mouth. I lived in Capitol Hill, because Father was the surgeon for Banner. Since they transformed into a Socialist Hospital, their logo became a blue flag with a red cross in the middle. Father told me that it was our justice.

 

By the time I got to Rambo's pad, his bike was not there. He must be on a walk somewhere. Emancipated youths won't go far on foot, because they have no vehicle license until they turn 21. Crap kept happening, and it was out of control since the White Plaque. But, Rambo was special. He survived with his sister, because he told me that he had the grit of a slave and a desire like a pirate on alcohol. Rambo will never die, and I will make sure he lives forever. I felt a revolution was brewing inside me....and I needed Rambo. Where could he be?

 

Just write.