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Grade
9

Dear Pablo,

 

July 18th, 2061

I remember that day so vividly I swear it had to have happened yesterday. The intense heat of the sun beat down across the blank, green hills, all while a silent, gentle wind blew through the air. It seemed like everything was just, but this was the day I would go to war. When I gazed through the peephole to see several men on my doorstep with rifles over their shoulders wearing dark blue jumpsuits, I knew what my life would become. Aversily, I slowly opened the mahogany door ofmy small cottage. Before the leader of the small group could utter a word, I knew this was a matter of the 2nd American Civil War. Days later, I left my small cabin in the Northernmost part of Michigan to become a soldier of the Alliance.

Since you have probably not heard of this since Spain has gone under extreme media censorship, I hope to explain in great detail the tragedy that has brought the U.S. to its knees. Although you may never get this letter, I hope by some miracle, you will eventually read this.

 

Ever since the Great American Oil Panic in 2053, nothing has been the same. This panic drove the current president to pass a bill making every state increase the amount of fracking facilities by almost double in hopes of replenishing our depleted oil reserves. Most states followed through with this legislation, but not all. Michigan, Ohio, Wisconsin, and Illinois rejected it, fearing that the mass fracking could pollute the Great Lakes. The government, in a distasteful response, cut all imports of consumable goods to these four states, alienating us from America. For a year these states struggled to feed the populus and balanced on the threshold of starvation. On April 5th, though, these states annexed from the U.S. and joined Canada to create what is now called the Alliance. This decision formed even greater tensions between the U.S. government and the Alliance. In later years, the tables turned and the Alliance had the upper hand with resources, food, and people from coherence with Canada, while the U.S. only had low morale and decreasing amounts of oil. The low oil levels continued to decrease as times went on, forcing the production of even more oil refineries and fracking facilities, putting the nation into a large deficit. As the U.S. kept building more and more of these, spills and contaminated groundwater became more common. By the year 2059, more than 80% of the United States’ water was contaminated and deemed no longer consumable. America, plagued with self-pride and a paucity of money, refused to trade or receive any imports from certain countries or simply couldn’t afford to buy it from allies to help with the crisis.

One year later, the economy and environment of the once great nation fell exponentially. Desperately, the government ordered the Alliance to hand over its land, and most of all, the Great Lakes. Sour from the mistreatment by the U.S., the Alliance refused to comply. For another year the U.S. stood at the brink of anarchy. Then, on May 8, 2060, the U.S. declared war on us, and then it felt like anarchy. It soon turned into a treacherous story of betrayal. Families were split apart and trust slowly dissolved into something more of a myth then what it once was. The U.S. was swarmed by volunteers to fight for they had nothing to lose, but on the receiving side, it was the complete opposite. Citizens of the Alliance protested for governmental leaders to seek a diplomatic resolution, but it was already too late to resort to peace. Because of the political unpopularity, their weren't as many volunteers, forcing the alliance to draft citizens. Through total misfortune, I was one of those unlucky souls.

Now, father, I hope that by some miracle this letter makes it past the heavily censored Spanish government so you can learn about the tragedy that has brought the once mighty America to its knees.

 

Yours Truly,

David Sergio

 

David awoke to the deafening noise of blaring alarms. The hanging bunks of the confining submarine swayed back and forth like a child’s cradle. Suddenly, the captain of the vessel ran through the hallway shouting:

“Get to your battle stations! We’re under attack!”

The crew members quickly stumbled out of their beds, sleep still heavy in their eyes. He, as well, quickly ran to his station: Auxiliary. During his first several weeks after being drafted, the generals of the Alliance looked through each of the new recruit’s papers. As they looked through his files, they were impressed by his experience with mechanics and engineering. So impressed, in fact, they promoted him to officer of the M-Aux Dept., meaning he held the imperative duty of controlling the ship’s steering, depth, and hydraulic systems. As he ran through the overcrowded hallways, he caught a glimpse of the three-dimensional sonar hologram depicting the submarine and deep sea around it. David stopped and stared at the screen in horror as he saw three U.S.-manned ships slowly flanking the Alliance sub. He snapped out of his gaze and continued walking to the control room. As he reached his destination, his palms were clammy and his mouth was dry. He slowly lowered himself into his cold, worn out chair. He stared at the intimidating array of buttons, screens, and gauges. A man burst from the room behind him. It was Seth, David’s second in command and one of his first friends when he joined.

“We got three enemy vessels coming from the port, starboard, and back of the ship!”

“Yeah,” David distantly answered.

“Hey, you got this. No different than any drill we’ve done before. Hell, you’re the best a-ganger* on this whole ship! Now get on those controls!”

David quietly chuckled, still staring at the controls. That moment, Another alarm began sounding, indicating an enemy missile was heading toward the ship. David, with small drops of sweat rolling down his face, quickly pushed knobs and levers across the control panel. The large steel tube lurched forward, gaining speed by the minute. David stared intently at the screen, maneuvering the monstrous ship to avoid missiles. He suddenly tensed as one missile came a centimeter away from the ship on the radar screen. After what felt like an eternity, the Weapons dept. fired a missile at the back-end of the submarine. The torpedo shot threw the Arctic water, finding its target and obliterating completely. The last two subs persisted in their efforts and fired two more missiles. To avoid total destruction, David quickly dropped the depth of the vessel as the two torpedos flew over. The game of cat and mouse continued for another three minutes until, with no apparent reason, they fell back. There was a moment of silence as the vessels slowly went out of sight. Seth leapt out of his seat and cheered, patting David on the back.

“Man, that was great! I knew you could do it!”

David shook off the reassurance and looked closely at the radar screen. It didn’t seem right. Why would two ships leave if the odds were stacked against them? Then he understood it all as the two ships came back into view, along with five more. Reinforcements. He desperately scrambled at the controls, wondering if he’d ever see the light of day again. As the ships closed in, he heard the gruff voice of the captain over the intercom:

“Initiate operation LaWS.”

Seth and David slowly exchanged shocked looks as they heard what the captain said. LaWS was a Laser Weapon System that shot lasers over 10,000 degrees fahrenheit that could instantly take out a single target, as well as leaving adjacent vessels’ machines fried from the heat wave. This is only used at dire times because the power drain it has the potential of shutting down the entire submarine, leaving it and its crew to slowly waste away. The officer in charge of LaWS gave an unsure “Yessir” before the intercom went silent again. Moments later, there was the sound of loud rippling as LaWS heated the water around it. Then, before another word could be uttered, the laser fired with tremendous force, instantaneously destroying the target as well as disabling the ships around it. Seth and David stared hesitantly at their screens, waiting for the dreaded moment for them to lose power and turn off. They sat there waiting for what seemed to be an eternity, with only the oddly relaxing sound of the creaking hull. The silence was broken by the crackling sound of the intercom.

“We’re clear,” exclaimed the captain with relief.

 

Everyone leapt from their seats cheering and embracing one another with the knowledge they had won the battle. But in the back of David’s mind, underneath the mask of glee, he knew this battle was the beginning of the ruin to come.

 

State
MI
Zip Code
48197