In a world not far from now, existed a world different from ours. One world divided by one thing – the will to survive.
Two worlds lived in this world. Living divided in unison. Living under one roof made of high tech advanced foggy glass dome, unbreakable and the only way you can see outside is to be outside. Well, there was not much to see outside the dome because there was nothing to see. Just destroyed Mother Earth and wasteland toxic to human life.
Inside the dome there was the “upper world”, the world of life and living. Technology was everywhere and everything was technology. Flying cars, sky piercing skyscrapers, drones, 3D animations of ads, holograms, the works. In this realm there’s the old earth, Mother Nature, earth, trees, grass, rivers, oceans, wildlife, birds, beauty and most importantly oxygen.
The upper world was populated by the rich and powerful, cruel and heartless people who believed wealth and luxury should be shared amongst their kind only. “The Wealths”, a rich people’s club or political organisation was in rule. Boa, or Lord Boa as he demanded everyone to refer to him as, was the leader of The Wealths. A very cruel man who would not spare a conscience to see one die of hunger while he wiped himself clean with bread after a seating in the loo. He personally despised the lower world.
“Scoundrels”, “scums of the earth”, “undesirables”, “people of low and no life” as he called them.
The lower world was unlike the aforementioned world. No life existed but the broken human life awaiting their death with no prospect of a better life. They were underweight, such that one could see the calcium of their thin and weak bones. The air was thick of smoke from factories. Deserted and vandalised buildings were homes to the respected leaders and the old.
Slums were what the rest of the population lived in with homes made of merely sticks and old cloth which were barely standing. Dirty rags were used as clothing with children running on mine dumps barefoot. Little or no nature was of availability. Dust masks had become a part of their faces. Death didn’t cause heartache anymore.
Within the slums lived a man, peaceful, kind, generous and generally a good man, was once in the military force and hated himself for that. Bamar was his name. He worked in one of the factories owned by The Wealths. He was not a young stallion but one could not make out his age. He could not stand the fact that working for survival was actually further killing him. His health was deteriorating, dying of carbon dioxide poisoning. He still worked, working for his ridiculous “fair” share of a litre tank of oxygen as money was of no value anymore.
Bamar never liked this division, and believed that everything must be shared equally with everyone, irrespective of wealth or standard of living. He knew he could not topple The Wealths on his own. So little by little he strategically planted seeds of “Equality”, “Liberty” and “Fraternity” in the lower world’s minds through stories and speeches which gave an image of a better life. He targeted mostly young men as they had the will and stamina to fight and they were easily won because they looked up to Bamar.
Months passed and the wealthy were getting wealthier and healthier while the poor were getting poorer and dying. Bamar himself was not getting any better. He felt that it was time for the seeds he planted to grow. One night he called his men together to a secret meeting behind one of the deserted buildings. He introduced his plans to coup The Wealths which he had planned for a while now.
“War!” shouted Bamar as he tried to be as audible as his weak body could allow him as the men came closer around the open fire. “War Gentlemen! That’s the only way we can find peace and better living for ourselves and our families!” he paused for a second trying to efface his illness and produced a very hard cough.
“They think they have it all because they have all the wealth,” continued Bamar, “they are wrong. They are so wrong! They do not have it all, they do not have us, they do not have our spirits!” He picked up a fire torch from the fire and raised it in the air. “Now my people… Now we fight!” The gathering ended with a powerful roar from the men towering the fire.
Early before the upper world could decide to shine the sun down on the lower world, Bamar and his gallant army charged towards the main elevator which took people up to the upper world. The upper world was at the highest prohibition to be entered by the lower world’s population. And if you broke the law, death was the only fate for you.
They burned everything they saw valuable to the upper world; factories, industries, power stations, power plants, you name it, they burned it. With smoke and rubble of the assets behind them, they further charged to the elevator, more hyped and willed than ever.
Lord Boa became aware of the revolution against him and ordered a full force military attack on Bamar who was at the forefront leading a hundred plus men. He could be heard chanting the words “Wealth for all” and “Let us breathe”. With a torch in his right hand and a sharp steel object which he would use as a weapon of some sort propelling the men to join him in his chants.
The upper world’s army could be seen approaching. Thousands in numbers and all armed to the teeth with high-tech battling arms and laser guns in hands. No emotion could be detected on their faces. Truly well trained military servicemen. Bamar and his men took a gallant halt surveying the battlefield. Tensions thickened the air.
“ATTACK!” shouted Bamar, charging bravely at the standing soldiers but came to a surprised stop when he saw the soldiers not giving shots at them. He became even more confused when the soldiers started one by one dropping their weapons and joined Bamar.
Lord Boa was shocked to his bones by this predicament. He instantly knew he had lost and no way of fighting. He took himself and his club in hiding to a secret vault only known by him. He was never seen again. The army and Bamar made their way up the elevator and seized it. Joyful noise filled the ears of everyone but Bamar did not stay for the celebrations.
Having used up all his strength and stamina he had gotten weak and started coughing out blood. He instantly knew he needed to make his way to the nature reserve for fresh oxygen to breathe and heal himself. Stumbling and crushing into walls and objects due to him being dizzy, he made his way to the reserve. Using the last breath in himself, he threw himself in the reserve and took off his mask. He laid there face down without moving a muscle.
For the first time in years he smiled because he was happy. A tear made its way from his eye down his face. His face could not efface the thrill. But then he could not move, he felt his lower body going numb. Some pain pulsated around his stomach. Little did he know that he threw himself in a stick about 3cm thick, pierced through his stomach and he lost a considerable amount of blood.
He got angry. He got frustrated. The smile turned to a frown in a second and he was not happy anymore. He heard the joyful cries of his men and they brought another disappointed but happy smile on his face. He gave it a thought, being killed by his desire to live, how ironic. He smirked, closed his eyes and never opened them again.