Constructive criticism would be helpful. WARNING: Very long! Read at your own risk! Chapter 1: Violent Politics [i]I walked with staggering steps.[/i] So tired...must rest, [i]I thought. But I knew I had to continue. I had to continue to unravel whatever was brewing underneath the surface. I had to continue to find out who did it. To solve this once and for all. The city was dark as the shadows. No moon shone. A faintly flickering light was all that lit the path. Cars lay strewn everywhere, as if a toddler had just thrown them around. Some lost people groped their way blindly, and then finally lay still, waiting for the welcome light of the morning to come. I ignored this. There were important things to finish. And I HAD to finish this. Suddenly, a wave of overwhelming exhaustion swept over him. His knees buckled. He couldn't do anything. Slowly, he keeled over, and, welcoming sleep, fell unconscious. _______________ The presidential race of 2052. Nothing could have been a bigger topic to gossip about. Debates had raged back and forth for the last six months. Millions of reporters had been sent to interview or report on the fiery arguments. All in all, who was going to be President would change the world forever, whether it be beneficial or for the worse.[/i] The crowd stared at the two men, silent. The men themselves were both seated in a chair, behind a mahogany table. A sheaf of papers were in both hands. Two plaques stood neatly in front of them. One said "Johnson, REPUBLICAN" and the other pronounced "Connell, NUMERALIST." The man called Connell said with a calm tone, "The Numeralists are similar to the Democrats, but with several different beliefs. We offer law, order, and food on your tables..." "But that is all you give," Johnson replied fiercely. "Surely, you give law and order. A dictatorship? Food on everyone's tables, enough to keep everyone sufficient enough to labor under an iron fist?" The crowd murmured in approval. "No, that is not the case!" Connell angrily said. "I have mentioned that we are similar to the Democratic Party, but with our own beliefs! We are not dictators! We will have civil rights! We will have a new, and better economy! We will become supreme! "How many times since 2014 have we been battered down by other countries? We deserve better, I think! We will prevail with my leadership, and we will become the best, once again!" A short clapping session began. Soon, it grew to a roar of approval. Johnson was stricken. He didn't know what to do. So, he did nothing. _____________________ I sighed and sat back in my chair. The clapping was giving me a headache. I jotted down a few notes, and then leaned back again. This debate was uneventful. There would be basically nothing in [i]The Outbreak Daily[/i], except another debate won by Connell. [i]And like that will make a good article[/i], I thought bitterly. With a grunt of frustration, I scratched out my notes and exited through the doorway, with the cheers still lingering behind him. Even though it was in the middle of March, it was still cold, especially in Washington, D.C. Shivering, I entered my Camry and started up the ignition. It growled, and then whined to a halt. I cursed and kicked the door open. Inspecting the hood, I saw that a layer of ice covered all the machinery. Just as I was about to crack the ice open, the streetlights went out. Soon afterwards, the city lights flickered defiantly, and turned off also. Even the artificial sky slowly succumbed to the darkness. Abruptly, everything turned pitch-black. For twenty seconds, there was no sound. Then a random man started to yell, "BLACKOUT!" Suddenly, it changed to pandemonium. Screaming, shouting, crying...I turned around blindly, this way and that, unable to regain my sense of direction. Someone pushed me down, and I was knocked onto my back, the wind quickly knocked out of me. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, I was just in time to see a car's astoudingly bright headlights fill up my field of vision. I tried to get up, but all I could manage was to sit up before I felt a sharp pain, a [i]thud[/i], and then blackness. [Edited on 06.05.2010 10:02 AM PDT]