Ready, Aim, Fire!

in #challenge5 years ago (edited)

This short story follows the prompt "control" for the Weekly Micro-fiction Contest by @jayna. I dedicate this bit of fiction to anyone around the world fighting tyranny.

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"Ready," the squad officer shouted out.

I stood at the ready waiting for the order to shoot. Five rifles with laser sights pointed at the target dancing with my heartbeat. I took a short breath. The laser lights danced again.

"Citizen, society demands control, which you have none of." The words bounced in my rattled head. "You will learn to control your impulses. Or the dead will pile up."

Freedom or conformity. Transformation or tradition. Creativity or reality. I chose liberty. I had been warned.

"Aim," the officer shouted.

I only wanted to be left alone, to pursue my painting, and make my children happy. To make my mother proud.

I winced waiting for the shot. I failed to master my thoughts, to forsake my family, and conform to the state. I now face the consequences of my lack of control.

"Fire!"

The rifles ran out. The bullets hit their target and my body slumped to the ground. Blood covered the wall and I knew my mother was dead. I stifled my anguish.

"Next!"

The soldiers pulled my mother's body out of the way discarding it on a pile. Another group brought out a sobbing boy aged roughly seven.

My son!

"No, I will conform. I will only teach restraint. I respect strict compliance."

"Ready."

My son wailed and I pleaded again.

"I can serve. My children can serve. My boy can serve."

"Aim."

"I beg you. I have changed. I understand the power of control."

"Fire!"

Copyright © 2019 Michael Shawn Sommermeyer

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Wow, @wordymouth. That is some brave writing, right there. It takes guts to put a mother in the line of fire, let alone a defenseless child. I don't dare imagine the police state reality that this story paints, but some days I believe it is possible even here in the U.S. Great dedication....

I dedicate this bit of fiction to anyone around the world fighting tyranny.

Well said.

The prompt set in motion a lot of ideas. At first, I wanted the reader to believe it was the narrator standing waiting for the bullet. Then I saw how control would come by making the narrator one of the shooters. I haven’t felt this kind of fear about my future in the U.S. since the Cold War. Everyday we lived with the realization we might die in a horrible fire blast. Now, I worry our republic will crumble due to forces beyond our control. I hope my fear came through in this story.

What a tough situation. Give your family or conform.

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