The Dreamers
Chapter 1: The Reality
The pastel touched the surface of the rough canvas. Light brown turned into a
deep shade of violet. The pastel flew across the canvas as it crumbled into a waterfall of
vibrant color. Jon concentrated hard on the art he was busy creating. His eyes were
narrowed behind his glasses, his dark brown hair slicked back, and his brow covered in
sweat. Jon had closed the shades over the small, cracked windows in his three-room
apartment. Not a ray of light came from the windows. His room was illuminated by one
small desk lamp that stood in the middle of the room. If he were caught, he would die.
Jon spent hours on this new piece of art, slowly turning shapes and colors into forms
of humans and buildings. When he was finished, he wiped his brow free from sweat and
leaned back, looking contempt about his new artwork. It was a recreation of the Last
Supper. Jesus sat in the middle, his holy power made him nearly jump off the page. After a
few minutes of admiring his work, Jon covered up his recreation and hid it behind his old
sofa. As he was hiding the artwork, a knock came from the door. He jumped and showed
only a slight sign of fright before realizing he was expecting this visit.
“Come in!” Jon bellowed as he got back to work. The door swung open quietly, a thin,
young woman slid in through the door and silently closed it behind her. A worried look
covered her face.
“They passed the law.” Her voice trembled as the words crept passed her lips. Jon fell back
onto his sofa; he wasn’t surprised, nor shocked, instead he was angry. He glared at the
floor from behind his spectacles. Then stood up and threw his easel across the room. The
woman let out a small cry. The easel lay on the ground in pieces. In disbelief, Jon wheeled
around and turned on the television. A small bar at the bottom of the screen came into view
first. The date scrolled by on it.
"November 12, 2024"
A blonde-haired reporter appeared on the screen.
“President Sedwig has officially passed the Law Against Religious Leadership in an
attempt to finally end all religious beliefs here in the United States of America. Even now,
police have been picking up hundreds of religious leaders and taking them to High
Security Prisons all across the country…”
Jon turned off the TV and chucked the remote across the room. “Bull shit!” He barked at the
television. “They aren’t taking them to prison, they are taking them to some God-forsaken
warehouse and blasting their heads off!” Jon was turning a violet-red color. He couldn’t
believe it had all gone this far.
It had started about a year ago, the presidential elections had ended and the new
President was about to begin his term. What we didn’t know, was that he was part of a
secret society that was against all religions. They called themselves The Reality, insisting
that the belief in any superior being was just a dream made up by our ancestors. Before
anyone could put together the pieces, The Reality had weaseled enough members into the
House of Representatives and the Senate have the majority vote every time. And now, they
had the President of the United States of America on their side. The wave came slowly,
starting with the banishment of Freedom of Speech. Next, they took away the freedom to
meet in religious groups. Then they banished the use of any religious icons. They were
slowly taking away everything religious, and now, they were sentencing all religious
leaders to death. Jon furrowed his brow.
“They will come for you.” The woman whispered. Her hands were shaking. Jon looked up
at the woman; her forehead was covered with a bandana, hiding a bindi from prying eyes,
the sign of Hinduism. “My dear Radi, do not worry about me,” he grasped her shoulder with
his massive hand, “I can worry about myself, but right now, there is no time to worry about
me, we must go warn the others.”
With that, the two left the apartment and began hurrying down the long and winding stairs.
deep shade of violet. The pastel flew across the canvas as it crumbled into a waterfall of
vibrant color. Jon concentrated hard on the art he was busy creating. His eyes were
narrowed behind his glasses, his dark brown hair slicked back, and his brow covered in
sweat. Jon had closed the shades over the small, cracked windows in his three-room
apartment. Not a ray of light came from the windows. His room was illuminated by one
small desk lamp that stood in the middle of the room. If he were caught, he would die.
Jon spent hours on this new piece of art, slowly turning shapes and colors into forms
of humans and buildings. When he was finished, he wiped his brow free from sweat and
leaned back, looking contempt about his new artwork. It was a recreation of the Last
Supper. Jesus sat in the middle, his holy power made him nearly jump off the page. After a
few minutes of admiring his work, Jon covered up his recreation and hid it behind his old
sofa. As he was hiding the artwork, a knock came from the door. He jumped and showed
only a slight sign of fright before realizing he was expecting this visit.
“Come in!” Jon bellowed as he got back to work. The door swung open quietly, a thin,
young woman slid in through the door and silently closed it behind her. A worried look
covered her face.
“They passed the law.” Her voice trembled as the words crept passed her lips. Jon fell back
onto his sofa; he wasn’t surprised, nor shocked, instead he was angry. He glared at the
floor from behind his spectacles. Then stood up and threw his easel across the room. The
woman let out a small cry. The easel lay on the ground in pieces. In disbelief, Jon wheeled
around and turned on the television. A small bar at the bottom of the screen came into view
first. The date scrolled by on it.
"November 12, 2024"
A blonde-haired reporter appeared on the screen.
“President Sedwig has officially passed the Law Against Religious Leadership in an
attempt to finally end all religious beliefs here in the United States of America. Even now,
police have been picking up hundreds of religious leaders and taking them to High
Security Prisons all across the country…”
Jon turned off the TV and chucked the remote across the room. “Bull shit!” He barked at the
television. “They aren’t taking them to prison, they are taking them to some God-forsaken
warehouse and blasting their heads off!” Jon was turning a violet-red color. He couldn’t
believe it had all gone this far.
It had started about a year ago, the presidential elections had ended and the new
President was about to begin his term. What we didn’t know, was that he was part of a
secret society that was against all religions. They called themselves The Reality, insisting
that the belief in any superior being was just a dream made up by our ancestors. Before
anyone could put together the pieces, The Reality had weaseled enough members into the
House of Representatives and the Senate have the majority vote every time. And now, they
had the President of the United States of America on their side. The wave came slowly,
starting with the banishment of Freedom of Speech. Next, they took away the freedom to
meet in religious groups. Then they banished the use of any religious icons. They were
slowly taking away everything religious, and now, they were sentencing all religious
leaders to death. Jon furrowed his brow.
“They will come for you.” The woman whispered. Her hands were shaking. Jon looked up
at the woman; her forehead was covered with a bandana, hiding a bindi from prying eyes,
the sign of Hinduism. “My dear Radi, do not worry about me,” he grasped her shoulder with
his massive hand, “I can worry about myself, but right now, there is no time to worry about
me, we must go warn the others.”
With that, the two left the apartment and began hurrying down the long and winding stairs.
♠ ♠ ♠
©2009 Alexander SpriggsComments/Critiscism is appreciated. :)