The night America fell will forever be seared into the depths of my mind. I was awoken in the dead of night by the harrowing sound of lawlessness. Sirens blared, shots rang, and thousands of distressed voices echoed into the night. It was the sound of America dying.
As I peered out the window of my 3rd story apartment, I witnessed pure chaos in the streets. Flashes, smoke, and people running from their homes. There were militarized police officers firing rounds at masked men who were also heavily armed. I even witnessed a police officer executed by a masked man in cold blood. That was when I realized that if I didn’t hide, I would probably meet the same fate as the slain officer. Without thinking I grabbed what I could and immediately made my way into my attic and once there, I placed my loaded trunk on the attics latching door, and stayed up the whole night listening to the chaos echo into the cold winter night.
It’s been 44 days since America fell. The only reason I know it’s been 44 days is because there are 44 carvings in the floorboard of this dank, bone-chilling attic which has since become home. To this day, I still can’t believe how quickly it all came crashing down.
Everyday I wake up hoping this new reality is just a dream, and everyday I wake up realizing that this living nightmare is reality. Everyday I wonder if it will be my last...
As I sit here corroding away in desolation, I will try to find solace by writing out my thoughts and feelings in hopes that maybe someday, someone will read my words and come to some sort of understanding as to how America, the greatest most powerful country in the history of the world, became a war-torn nation.
I remember learning about Anne Frank when I was in Middle School. I remember always wondering how she met the fate she did. How could the people of the world allow innocent people to be rounded up and slaughtered? I, like many others, always demonized Hitler and the Nazi’s because they were the “bad guys”. They were the ones who set the bar for evil in the 20th century, and never had it ever crossed our minds that we would top the heinous evil that was the Holocaust. That was perhaps our biggest mistake...
The months and weeks leading up to the fall were unthinkable. It felt like a roller coaster ride to hell. Everyday there was some new hate crime being committed, each more vile than the last. Ghetto’s were starting to look like war zones between militarized police forces and black men. There was also a sharp rise in anti-semitism caused by the resurgence of white supremacy. It had become OK to hate, and it was our newly elected leader who made it OK. Protests against his authoritarian rule turned into riots and then riots turned into chaos. It was as though the seams that kept this chosen land together were starting to stretch and snap caused by this growing suppressed anger that had been festering deep from within since the founding of America in 1776.
The major media outlets were constantly being denigrated by the administration. An administration whose obvious purpose in retrospect, was to promote the welfare of the economic elite. Truth was becoming harder and harder to discern. False stories being propagated on social media networks became more and more common. I truly believe that this brief era of misinformation was one of the cruxes that brought us to where we are now. Another crux was our worship of the almighty dollar. It was the dollars in our pockets that afforded us happiness, the less we had the less happy we were or so it seemed. It wasn’t until the hyperinflation set in that we all began to lose faith in the dollar. We all lost faith in those green pieces of paper that we worked our lives away to acquire. During that loss of faith was when our nation hit terminal velocity.
After the fall, I couldn’t sleep for what felt like weeks. If you could only imagine what it’s like to have your mind on a constant state of heightened alert. If you could only understand the damage too much adrenaline will do to you. It permanently alters you, creating some sort of PTSD, where just the littlest things will set you into this pure flight or fight, kill mode. You don’t feel human. And imagine something as simple as the creak in a floorboard being able to put you in that mind set. The simple sounds of a settling house. Howling wind. A roach as it scatters around in darkness. I know I am clinically insane by now, but it’s not like that really matters much anymore.
I remember the first time I was able to somewhat comfortably fall asleep, and it was during the day. A surprisingly warm and bright morning for being in January. There hadn’t been any gun shot’s fired for what felt almost like a full 48 hours. The last thing I remember seeing as I drifted off was the crystal blue sky through a small hole in the attics conjoined ceiling. It was the greatest feeling in the world as a ray from the sun slowly started to creep in, warming my face. That day I dreamed the most vivid dream I’ve ever had in my life.
This dream featured full sensation, and vibrant color and detail. I could clearly see the sweat as it dripped from Alexis’s breast as she rode me like a wild southern cow-girl. The way her breast dangled around as she worked her thick warm squishy hips around and in that motion she knew would extract my seed from deep from within. The ripe aroma of just me and her as we made the kind of love that babies are born from. In that pinnacle moment, I was awoken by the loud deafening boom caused by a nearby explosive that rattled my soul. I was in a state of petrification for days.
Starvation is the most peculiar motivation. You’d be surprised at how quickly your fears and priorities change once your stomach has begun to eat itself. I had only heard a few gunshots ring out in the distance throughout the day. It was my plan that once night fell I would venture out of this dreary attic and go down to collect what remained in my apartment. Unfortunately I had not gone shopping before the fall. With the starvation settling in I remembered I should have some stale bread in the pantry and maybe an old box of pasta noodles. As I climbed down, my apartment felt desolate, and it no longer felt like home. When I peered out the window, I was mortified by the the landscape. The once affluent neighborhood full of homes with exotic architecture had been degraded and ruined to look like an abandoned ghost town.
Homes had been hollowed out, some burned. Debris and abandoned cars littered the street. I also no longer could see the steeple of the Lutheran Church that used to sit in the sky only a couple blocks away. This mere glimpse from my window painted a very grim picture of what had become of the world and I could not believe my eyes. I could not believe that Norfolk Virginia, now looked similar to how Syria looked during the height of their recent Civil War.
As I made my way to the kitchen to scavenge what was left, I came to the conclusion that I would soon have to leave the safety of my apartment if I was going to survive. But where would I go? Who could I call? Cell phone and internet service had not worked since the fall. It looked like a war zone outside, and most likely there were still hostile insurgents residing in some of the houses in the neighborhood. The thought of not having anywhere to go was paralyzing. As I made my way up the attic with a can of black beans, a box of cereal dust some mayo and 3 slices of stale bread, I started to hear voices at the back door. Luckily I had just shut the attic door when they kicked in my back door and started sacking my apartment. I nearly passed out from the fear and anxiety as they moved about my place throwing around my belongings. My stomach churned with knots as I heard the hostile voices below. One of the guys swore he saw something... If they had surveillance over my apartment complex so heavy that that they could see me moving about at night, I knew my chances of successfully making any kind of escape were close to none.
13 nights later, driven by a psychosis derived from starvation and acute thirst, I made my way out of my apartment to find any kind of nourishment. I stealthily creeped down the back fire escape checking each busted-in apartment unit for anything edible. You’d be surprised at how good dog food tastes... I’m sure if you had served the meaty paste on some fancy crackers with a garnish at a party, most probably wouldn't even know the difference. My ultimate low point was when I discovered the ultimate source for water. Toilets. With no more running water, toilet reservoirs became a source of life.
A couple days later I attempted to make a run for it, even though I didn’t know where “it” was. Maybe I could make it to my parents house, they only lived 30 minutes away by car, which would only take a few hours by foot. It was so nice to feel the cool wind of the night brush against my face as a trekked through my decimated neighborhood. There was an eerie stillness and a quietness that night. Every little sound effect was amplified with high fidelity. I made it
about 6 miles before I ran into the most horrifying thing I had ever seen. The on-ramp to 264 east from Norfolk to Virginia Beach had been blocked off and partially destroyed. In front of the blockade were several beams interconnected with razor blade barbed wire, and strung up on the beams were bodies, some women, some men, and some children... Ever since that day I’ve never tried leaving again. I have accepted the fact that I will probably die in this dusty attic in Norfolk. It’s only a matter of time now...
Crispy fried chicken with stuffed shells, garlic bread, lumpia and a side of peas and jasmine rice with a scoop of fresh guacamole on top and a large cold glass of chocolate milk is what my body yearns for. My hallucinations have gotten so vivid that I can almost taste the thought of real food. Thank god for this newly acquired vivid imagination or else eating roaches would be unbearable. Yes I’ve fallen this low... But I do what I have to do. Contrary to popular belief, roaches actually don’t taste that bad if you eat them properly. If you think you can just chomp into them then you’re going to be greatly disappointed when remnants of the shell get stuck between your teeth like popcorn kernel skin. There’s a proper process, kind of like eating crawfish, except with roaches, you bite the heads off and suck on the bodies.
I’ve been really tired lately. So tired that I slip in and out of consciousness throughout the day. The sleep is very deep and very dark and dreams are few and far between. This may be due to the mental fatigue from the vivid daydreams I’ve been having. While awake, certain moments keep replaying through my mind like an old VHS tape stuck on repeat. One is of my first memory, of me yelling at a news channel 3 anchor on television, angered over the fact she was ignoring me. I remember my first real kiss, and how happy I was, and how for a week straight I would just randomly smile from thinking about it. I also remember the pain from when she left me to be with someone else. I remember our wonderful family reunions in Miami Florida. My cousins and I laughing into the tonight, almost getting kicked out of hotels, and eating authentic puerto rican food til our bellies were the fullest of full. Arroz con gandules and slow roasted pernil with the salty savory skin that tasted like crispy heaven. Usually my mouth would water when thinking these thoughts but now the inside of my mouth is as dry as a desert and my throat feels like sandpaper.
I was skinny before the fall, now my body is an emaciated pile of skin and bones. My knees are knobby and shake when I try to stand. I can barely pull myself up off the floor anymore, but it’s fine. I know that I will probably never leave this attic again. The only thing left for a while was hope, but that hope has eroded away like my mind, body and soul. I’m tired. All of my memories are starting to fade except for one that I can’t stop thinking about. The memory is of me and my mom shopping at the commissary and we stop to get sherbert ice cream. Orange with pink swirls was always my favorite.