Kent was two when John-harry became president. He was the son of the richest family in America: the Ribbons.
He claimed the president killer was caught and that America did indeed practice a democracy. He alone campaigned and became elected as the non contested president of America.
It was bullshit. The border was still unsafe and all the neighboring nations had their troops egging on the American soldiers. They would start but not fight, trying to paint a picture that the Americans were the violent ones.
Within the country, tests were being carried out on animals for biological weapons. John Harry claimed he got intel about an attack from Europe and took matters into his own hands. The repercussions were an all out battle against a weakened America and the European continent.
The battle ended quickly as a truce was quickly reached. However, that was for the papers and the media.
The real reason was more cruel than a war torn life. Some called it a conspiracy but the rise in missing people after the war's end made it clear. Someone was kidnapping people and with no bodies found, it was obvious they were still alive.
In the past 20 years alone, at least a thousand people were missing from Texas alone. Kent could bet that the figure was outrageously more than was shared. He reckoned at least ten thousand from his facility. Prisoners were dispensable.
Kent always knew the world to be silent. It was as though they wanted America wiped from the world.
The country was a mess and in the hands of a puppet for the richest and influential. Anyone with eyes could see that the nation wasn't peaceful.
Kent's first ever thought about the man remained his top opinion of the man. A man with two names has to have two faces.
And he did. On TV, John-Harry smiled that carefully rehearsed smile of a man who knew his words were power. But in the quiet, behind closed doors, he was just another cog in a machine designed by the richest. Kent saw it clearly. And the people? They only saw the mask.
Kent was 13 years old when his mother sat him down one afternoon, "they are called the revolutionists." His mom said with a shaky voice.
"They will entice you and promise you thousands of dollars in exchange for your service to the nation.
They're taking over the schools!" She panted.
"Promise me, Kent, look at me!" She palmed his face roughly, "promise me that you'll always come back home." His panicked mom said. Kent thought she was overreacting at the time.
"Okay mom." Her grip tightenened on his face, and Kent saw it– the raw, frantic fear in her eyes. He was a child yet even he could decipher that look. She wasn't just a mother worried for her children. She was a woman who knew too much, who had seen too much.
"Please don't let them take you away. You have to promise me you'll keep you and your sister safe." She said sternly. Her pupils moved slightly and Kent saw the immense worry in her eyes.
"Promise me. Promise that if they come, you fight. You protect Brie. Promise me you'll protect her!" She was hysterical at this point. Following his instinct, Kent pulled his mother into a tight hug, deeply warming her heart.
"I won't let them touch you and Brie, mom." He was a teenager but he had the resolve to back up his words.
Kent never got to meet his father. He left before he could remember anything.
His mother was pregnant with his little sister at the time. Kent was six and all he could remember was the curses his grandmother laid on him every time she crossed his mind.
"A waste of sperm." She called him. It made his mother laugh. Seeing her laugh made Kent laugh too. Those were the quiet days.
-
Fifteen year old Kent raced through the halls of his school.
"Please be okay, please be okay." He muttered as he went out the main gate and onto the street.
"Kent, please! It's not safe for you to go alone." Miss Smith, his math teacher screamed as she chased after him.
She was the only one of his teachers who showed care for the news the head teacher so gracefully announced in front of the whole assembly. Kent's mother had been in a ghastly accident and was unconscious.
"Kent!" She finally caught up to him, "let me take you, please. It would break her heart if something happened to you." She said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Let me take you." She pleaded with her eyes. It took Kent a while to focus through his cloudy, tear filled eyes but he did. Those green eyes that always showed him care when every other person at school treated him like an outcast.
He thought he always imagined her soft eyes, "why?" He heard himself ask.
"Why? I don't understand." She asked with furrowed eyebrows.
"Why do you want to take me? Why do you care if something happens to me? Why?"
Miss Smith smiled, "it's my job. Come." She said, shrugging off the question. Kent watched her as she walked away for a minute before following quickly behind her. He didn't believe her but he also didn't have time.
"I never knew the sound of someone breathing could sound so sad." He heard himself muffled. The pipe in her mouth was huge.
"Can she breathe with that in her throat?" He asked.
"She doesn't look like her." Kent added. He was staring down at his mother who had 60% of her body covered in burns.
"We're looking at a bill of over $70,000 for the grafts and treatment so far." Kent heard the doctor speaking to Miss Smith.
Kent turned towards the pair and walked towards them, "you can speak to me." He said.
"Oh, pardon me."
"I'm her son and technically her legal guardian." He added. He had that cold look on his face. It scared Miss Smith.
Kent always seemed to wear an expression she could never read. She felt the constant need to protect him and she didn't know why.
The doctor got flustered, "oh- I was under the impression she was a family member."
"No." Kent said flatly and Miss Smith stood awkwardly. Kent never spared anyone's feelings, not even hers. She thought her kindness towards him made him hate her more than her colleagues and she was teased for it by them.
"Wannabe saint" They all called her. She was an outcast amongst her peers because she always cared for the outcasts. It didn't look well on her, her department head said one time.
"I just want to help." She whispered to Kent.
"And you have. Thank you but I want to handle this."
She chuckled, "I know this is not my place but how are you going to raise $70,000?"
Kent hoped she meant well but her question pissed him off. He wasn't delusional about his family's finances.
"Can you give me a thousand dollars?" He asked her and she looked at him puzzled.
"No." She said, "no civilian has that kind of money."
"But I'm sure with the right publicity we can get some help." She added quickly.
Kent chuckled lightly.
No one had money to spare.
"Great. That means you have no use in this room." He said before returning to his mothers side.
Shame crept on Miss Smith's face but she could say she was used to it. Kent often made her flustered with his dismissive tone. She turned away and walked out of the room.
"I don't need anyone," Kent's thoughts echoed in his head. But as he watched Miss Smith walk away, her words echoed in his mind, "I just want to help."
Did he want help? To Kent, her concern meant he had to give back something in return, and he was all out of people and things to care for,
"How long can you keep her here?" He asked, not taking his eyes off his mother.
"For as long as it is needed to keep her alive. We only require a deposit of $100,000. Her current bill is inclusive." Kent didn't have that kind of money. Until a moment ago, he wasn't sure anyone who wasn't working for the government had that kind of money.
"I'll get the money to the hospital before the end of the week. Can you not withhold treatment in the meantime?" He took his mom's hand in his. It was the only part of her body not covered in bandages.
He squeezed her hand and he felt her squeeze back ever so gently. Kent felt his heart thud. She was in there.
Miss Smith never saw Kent at school again and when she checked in on his mother at the hospital, she had been transferred to the intensive care unit.
A quick ask from one of the nurses and she was stunned.
"Excuse me! This patient, I'm her sister. I just wanted to know, has her bill been settled? I just arrived in town." She lied.
"Ah, yes! Her son paid in cash last week."