Ghent

The Awakening
My name is Ghent. I remember nothing prior to the time of my awakening; during my first conscious moments, my mind attempted to search for answers. I was not afraid but lost in blankness; there were no images to retrieve, no clue to my predicament. Limited to a space no larger than a casket, movement was minimal; I used my hands to search for a button or a lever that would allow escape from my captivity. While blindly searching the walls, a light above my head began to flash and change in color from red, to yellow, to green. The hatch released allowing external air to rush in; the sudden change in air pressure caused my lungs to take a series of unexpected deep breaths. The inhalation of fresh air was invigorating. I reached out and pushed the hatch aside. My first images of freedom were a metal grey ceiling lined with pipes and recessed lighting. Curious about my surroundings coupled with the desire to flee my confinement I sat up. To my surprise, I was not alone.

A room of strangers, both male and female from various places of origin, we looked at each other uncertain what to say. When words were finally spoken the language unfamiliar but recognizable to all. My first attempts to speak in retrospect were comical. I started and stopped sentences several times in an attempt to fix the malfunction in my brain. The words in my head English but what springs forth from my mouth is not.

I look around nothing is familiar. A placard on the wall suggests we are in a place called Dannick. None of us remembers entering the pods; our minds blank in regards to past events. Attempts to brain storm for answers ineffective; our imaginations run wild with possibilities. We can only speculate as to how, when or why our destinies collided in this place.

Our matching jumpsuits suggest we are members of a group possibly inmates or an elite band of warriors. I prefer to think we are the later or something comparable in respectability. I do not wish to be a criminal.

Collectively we decided to explore our surroundings. I suggest we are on a military vessel or in the deep dark depths of a research facility or possibly a fallout shelter; although a logical reason for being in either of those places is not apparent. I step toward the only door leading out of the room; it slides open. Two armed guards prevent my exit. The guards looked as if they were ready to shoot anyone that stepped out of line. I step away from the door.

Captain Addison enters the room; with all the joy of a proud father and exclaims “Welcome to the Dannick!” He called us recruits and congratulated us on finding our way here. My mind is confused. I try to remember what I have forgotten, to make sense of my circumstance. Captain Addison makes it sound as if we are here by choice. He seems nice enough but I feel as if all is not what it seems. I am a recruit for this vessel but something deep within says I do not belong here.

My thoughts on world events

If you want people to treat you with respect and dignity show them your honorable side. Get an education, work hard and give back to your community. Respect Authority. Respect your neighbors and their property. Accept responsibility for your mistakes and failures. Make amends while standing tall. Be proud of your accomplishments. Those who love you want to shout from the rooftops how awesome you are! I hope everyone has a Happy Thanksgiving.

Character Development: The Graphic Artist

Character Development: The Graphic Artist

She was 15, and a talented graphic artist. The old man was retiring and selling his grocery store. He no longer needed a grocery clerk to clean and stock the shelves. Grateful for three years of honorable service, he labeled her flier as reliable, smart and pretty. She wished he had left off “Pretty”. Pretty attracted the wolves. Her portfolio held tightly in her hands, she prayed her new prospective buyer would have a need for her artistic talent.

The old man paid for a commercial endorsement highlighting her talents as a graphic artist. The ad would run on the large viewing screens three times during the day.

Character Development: The Intern

Character Development: The Intern

He was 19 and nervous. His mom had insisted he wear the suit on his first day of work. Exceptional grades had earned him an internship as a state-processor for the Commodity Trade Convention Center. Armed Security Guards escort two dozen tired, cold and hungry children into the backdoor of the facility. Holding the tag scanner with shaky hands, he confirms each child’s name and number. Feeling awkward and a little guilty, he can’t look the new VEP commodities in the eyes as he marks them for their initial sale price.

A nurse gives the children a once over to insure adequate health and has them dress in standard t-shirts and shorts.

Eating a breakfast biscuit and drinking a beer, the smelly truck driver smiles as he holds his hand out for payment.

Character Development: The Intern

Character Development: The Intern

He was 19 and nervous. His mom had insisted he wear the suit on his first day of work. Exceptional grades had earned him an internship as a state-processor for the Commodity Trade Convention Center. Armed Security Guards escort two dozen tired, cold and hungry children into the backdoor of the facility. Holding the tag scanner with shaky hands, he confirms each child’s name and number. Feeling awkward and a little guilty, he can’t look the new VEP commodities in the eyes as he marks them for their initial sale price.

A nurse gives the children a once over to insure adequate health and has them dress in standard t-shirts and shorts.

Eating a breakfast biscuit and drinking a beer, the smelly truck driver smiles as he holds his hand out for payment.

Character Development: Commodity Trade Convention Center

Character Development: Commodity Trade Convention Center

Neatly dressed in standard commodity t- shirts and shorts, the children from various Vocational Education Programs arrive at the Commodity Trade Convention Center. A State Processor confirms each child has a legitimate working tag number. Categorized by age and reliability rating, guards place the commodities in viewing cells.

The doors to the convention center open at 8am for private viewing. Public access begins at 10am.

Located on wall posters around the convention center is the following disclosure: The commodity tag button on each child should glow green, not yellow. Yellow indicates the commodity is within 6 months of turning 18 and is ineligible for sell or trade status.

Character Development: Commodity Trade Convention Center

Character Development: Commodity Trade Convention Center

Neatly dressed in standard commodity t- shirts and shorts, the children from various Vocational Education Programs arrive at the Commodity Trade Convention Center. A State Processor confirms each child has a legitimate working tag number. Categorized by age and reliability rating, guards place the commodities in viewing cells.

The doors to the convention center open at 8am for private viewing. Public access begins at 10am.

Located on wall posters around the convention center is the following disclosure: The commodity tag button on each child should glow green, not yellow. Yellow indicates the commodity is within 6 months of turning 18 and is ineligible for sell or trade status.

Commodity Tales – 4

The VEP Administrator

The sign on the door designated his title as Vocational Education Program
Administrator. His dark blue jacket hung on the coat rack next to the door. The
white shirtsleeves rolled half way up his forearms. He sat behind his desk with
his face in his hands attempting to calm the migraine. The stack of VEP
applications on his desk were at an unmanageable level. His staff of four
overwhelmed. There weren’t enough hours in the day or days in the week to
complete all of the required inspections and paperwork. His most experienced
and reliable inspector abandoned her position for maternity leave. She would
not return for at least 4 months and there was no replacement. The remaining
inspectors slow, sloppy and teetered on the line of incompetence. Government
funding for the program depended on the number of VEP applicants certified in a
given year. His boss breathed down his neck to increase productivity 8 percent
over last year. He looked at the stack of applications, he could fabricate the
reports and save time, no one would know.

Character Development: The Preston Commodity Trader

Character Development: The Preston Commodity Trader

Make buying, selling and trading commodities easier; purchase a subscription to the “Preston Commodity Trader”.

Keep up with your favorite Runner and the Retriever hot on their heels; Read the “Preston Commodity Trader”.

Don’t get cheated out of your money. Before buying or trading, check the child’s reliability rating in the “Preston Commodity Trader “.

Runners are dangerous and a threat to society; Advertise your runner in the “Preston Commodity Trader”.

Show your appreciation to the Retrievers in your city. Donate to the Retriever fund by purchasing a subscription to the “Preston Commodity Trader”.

The billboards were all over the city picturing healthy, happy smiling children working for a living.

Character Development: The Editor

Character Development: The Editor

She wore a dark blue skirt, blazer and three inch heels. The blond hair resting on her shoulders perfectly styled to reflect a woman of wealth and authority. Awards cover the walls of her prestigious corner office in Preston Towers. In her hands, a crystal sculpture recognizing her magazine “The Preston Commodity Trader” as the number 1 publication read in the nation.

Her father started the magazine 30 years ago after the establishment of the Commodity Child Labor laws. He died last year on a mountain highway driving his Ferrari at a high rate of speed, his brakes failed. The police cleared the garage mechanic of tampering with the breaks after a lengthy investigation.