Disingenuous pt.3

in #writing7 years ago (edited)

The sun rose slowly, somehow managing to look reluctant as it shed unwanted luminescence of dawn on the "Projects".

The projects was the bottom feeder part of town where the government cunningly sheltered (more like imprisoned) the large percentage of its population that it couldn't be bothered to care for.

Here everything was government owned, everything was taxed, and by some incomprehensible mystery of governance everything was watched.

Freedom to these "rats" as the rest of society knew them was a badly framed illusion, one that deceived nobody but the government was too indifferent to properly pull wool over their eyes and the "rats" too afraid to complain about the tattered nylon over their face.

Segun walked slowly, crunching his way over bits of glass, wood and the occasional decomposing lifeform. Nobody cared and not because they were unwilling. His fingers twitched slightly in anger.

They couldn't.

You didn't live in the projects without losing part of your humanity, the government ensured that.

They policed the streets irregularly arresting and often killing those without "legal" jobs. "Legal" jobs were avoided like the plague since they almost always managed to make a man poorer than when he was unemployed and even worse, it meant being at the neck and call of the government.

Eyes watched from windows and shadows and Segun knew it, they were assessing his every action, from his manner of walking to the very way he moved his eyes.

Government agents were not known to walk alone but whenever they did or moved in too small a group they invariably disappeared.

The "projects" was as lawless as it could be, an obvious inevitability as it housed most of the jailbirds and fellows hunted by the government. To the many who lived in the upper class areas of Trenia, the projects was a spittoon, worthy of all be blame tossed on it.

To Segun it was home.

He let his feet lead him down familiar rundown streets as his mind wandered feverishly, rehashing old stories and worries about his origin.

To the casual wary eye he looked like just another societal reject sporting a black overcoat and hat. Nothing to be concerned about but Segun knew better.

He had plans.

He was going to kill the Government and raise hell on its grave.

The only problem was, he didn't know how.
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