Australia

"We are the dead," he says. "We are the dead," repeats Julia behind him.

Suddenly an iron voice declares behind them, "You are the dead,"

-George Orwell, 36, 1984

The date was September 30, 2044, when the Marauders invaded. None of us saw it coming. I knew the Queen was behind this. Australia was behind us and Hell ahead. We still don’t know if we are the last of humanity.

It all started three months earlier. I woke up at precisely seven and immediately got out of bed. I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and pulled on a red sweater, black leggings, and shoes. The sound of my parents waking up after me rang in my ears. As soon as my parents came downstairs, we scarfed down our bowls of cereal, drank the milk, and went to the car. My eyes turned to the radio clock which read 7:20 AM. One hour before school starts. My dad puts the car in drive and we speed out of the neighborhood, our eyes darting from side-to-side, partly because we could not afford to be late for school and work, the other part being that we didn't want to hurt people.

We don't stop for anything, not even when I spot Lois Abbott, who was standing at a crossroad, in her crop top, shorts, and sandals.

Lois Abbott.

What can I say about her?

Lois and I had been friends since kindergarten. She had brown hair, green eyes, and tan skin. I was upset that I had dropped my chocolate cake desert on the floor at lunch, and she offered me some of her ice cream from her food tray.

"Here, take some of mine," she said. "It's way better than that mess,"

I also admired her for the fact that she would sometimes fact check teachers, whose documents were most likely forged to change history. However, this rebellion against authority lasted well into our teen years. In Regnum, it's illegal for you to wear revealing clothing, but Lois didn't care. I think this is the second time this week she's received a slip from our school for her clothes. Three times, and well...

Well, I'll tell you about that later.

"Dad, pull over," I said.

"I can't, Octavia," my dad replied. "We are on a strict schedule today, and-,"

"Please just do it for Lois," I pleaded.

"Fine," he said.

He stops the car. I jump out and grab Lois, prompting her to scream. Thankfully, no one else is around. I forcefully strap the seatbelt around her before doing the same to me. After making sure the door was closed all the way, Dad sped off.

"Octavia, what the hell, girl?" asked Lois.

"You want a visit from the Judge of Queen Jezebel?" I said.

Lois winced. Truth be told, Jezebel is not the Queen's real name. It's Zara. Zara of the royal Regnumian house of Gentric. Jezebel is an unkind nickname for her.

"No, but I think it's ridiculous because I am not doing anything wrong or amoral," Lois explained.

"Try telling that to the Queen's Judge," said Mom.

Let me fill you in. About one hundred years ago, there were all of these wars, famines, tsunamis, pandemics, and sinkholes. Humanity almost went extinct. The United States government collapsed and the country rebuilt itself as Regnum. They say that our land was ruled by presidents, senators, and representatives, but the Americans had grown tired of them. They voted in favor of a monarchy, the Gentrics, who have ruled Regnum for over seventy nine years. Initially, they stood for peace, but Queen Zara wanted more power. She had invaded and taken over all countries in the world, except for Australia. Shortly after the invasion of Russia, she installed cameras into every house. Everyone had to be up by seven o'clock. If they were late to school or work, they would be beaten. Second time, starved. Third time, sentenced to death.

In Regnum, people regularly die of starvation and disease. Sometimes, bombs rained down onto the streets, but only if we are in war. Regnum always won, and therefore gained more territory. While the whole world was being conquered, Queen Zara sat on her throne, watching as us common people fought over our limited supply of toilet paper, food, and water. Australia seemed like a paradise, to me.

Paradise seemed just out of reach. I considered myself blessed that we could afford a house, car, and food like pasta and green beans. Due to this, we couldn't manage to run away. The Queen was watching us, too. My parents hated everything about the country. I did, too, but we couldn’t say it out loud.

We don't even feel safe in the car.

We made it to school. Kids and adults scrambled out of their cars and the yellow buses and into the school. We raced to our classroom and sat down at our desks. Students piled in after us. Our teacher, Mr. Rubel, walked in, and put his brown bag on his desk. He had brown eyes, gray-brown hair, and wore a blue shirt as well as pants. He looked at his watch and quickly took attendance. Almost everyone was there save for a couple who might have called in sick. Or even better. They might have escaped.

People stare at Lois. I keep my eyes glued on Rubel, who teaches us about calculating volume for 3D shapes. Rubel didn't look up when he called Lois's name; he just marked the ledger with a heavy, deliberate stroke of his pen. He knew she was already on the list. I gripped the edge of my desk, wanting to reach out, to say something, but I thought of my parents. I remembered the motto printed in bold red letters above the chalkboard: Time, first. Family, second. Humanity, third. In Regnum, humanity always came last.

“Alright, then, let’s recite the motto,” Rubel said.

We did. It almost sounded like we were robots. I glanced around to see that almost all of us kept up with the dress code.

Then, the sirens began. Not the scheduled ones we had been practicing since preschool, but a long, screaminf wail that echoed in the classroom. Rubel stopped as armed men in green uniforms broken down the door. He calmly places his hands above his head.

“We aren’t here for you,” one of the men said.

Rubel gave them a confused look. Suddenly, one of the boys, Michael de Silva, walked up. We had never interacted before, only seen each other in the halls, and he had never been late. I watched as he placed his hands above his head, too.

A single gunshot was all it took for him to crumble.