Sunny, bright skies cover the gorgeous atmosphere of our town, blended with the sounds of birds chirping and the bees buzzing. People chattering and showering each other with kindness is simply a concept all too good to be true. Probably because it is. The conditions aren’t at all acceptable here, evident by the fact that our country barely even has enough money to properly operate.
The government of corruption spent millions trying to declare dominance over our surrounding countries, often resulting in not only defeat but also declaration of war from practically all of them. The biggest player in this war is a country known as ‘Philipsberg’. Often known as the pillars of power to the rest of the world, the country could invade us at any minute and do so successfully.
This little act of recklessness caused hell to coexist amongst our already ruined country, known to everyone as Dystropolitain. Problem after problem, after problem, that always happens here. Problems stack up upon each other. Citizens are often forced to live off of a few scraps of food and suffer on the streets in order to pay the high tax rates. The tax we pay doesn’t even go back to the desperate community; instead, it goes to funding brutality, the same brutality that placed us in this vulnerable position in the first place. Getting a stable source of income here is too much to ask. People are laid off due to the competitive market or unfit work qualifications due to their lack of education.
I spend my days as a technician. However, I rarely have to do anything due to the lack of technological advancements in this trash can. The climate in Dystropolitain is rather frigid because heating units are unaffordable for most. I live alone here. My family managed to flee this inferno while they had the chance—a long story that takes forever to explain. Leaving Dystropolitain is forbidden; the consequence for doing so is death.
Everyday is like that in Dystropolitain. Days spent living in this tiny apartment that I call home, except today felt rather different.
It was the same garbage-filled atmosphere that I was familiar with, but this time something was off. I frantically got up from bed and changed into my coat. Looking out the window, everything seemed normal up until the minute I noticed the town was as empty as a ghost town. This usually doesn’t happen here. Usually everyone in town is busy inflicting violence on each other in an attempt to fight to survive, but no. Nobody was on the streets. It wasn’t a public holiday and even if it was, it wouldn’t disregard the crime problem.
I was left in a puddle of confusion. Turning on the news broadcast greeted me with nothing but static. The internet was down as well. As a last resort, I turned on the radio; only white noise was being projected. This could only mean one thing: a takeover is about to occur. Not just any takeover but a takeover from Philipsberg, the pillars of power.
About the Author
Lanz Dela Cruz is a 10th grade student from Australia. Ever since he was young, Lanz has always shown an interest in technology.
He has enjoyed English literature by reading books, creating stories, and writing speeches, all to the best of his ability.
Lanz joined BUBOTS in 2025 and has been learning and enjoying the classes ever since.