My story behind the story
It all started with a song. The way he could sing it, is should have been the song of the century. But no one was there to hear it the first time, no one but me. Music, which had been outlawed by 2013, was the one thing that we all could agree was not evil. No matter what we were told, our family knew better. We knew the music would be the thing to set us free.
The era of static and contraband that's leading us to the promised land
I had been forced underground when I was three. My mother, you may know her as Whatsername, was one of the original resistance. She, and her best friends Saint Jimmy and the Jesus of Suburbia, tried to overthrow the tyrants overtaking the world under the guise of spreading peace. But that was when she was my age, a fresh adult just heading out into the world. Jimmy died, mom doesn’t really talk about him much unless she is singing his praises, and Jesus ran away. Without her stronghold she was forced to go into the shadows, to wait for a new rebellion to join. That was where she met my father. He was killed when I was still a twinkle in my mother’s eye. My mother was the strongest person I knew, and she did a good job of raising me, living a normal life above ground, and running the underground below. That is, until someone ratted us out. I will never forget that night, young as I was. The knock on the door in the middle of the night, rushed whispers about escape routes, the furry as she packed all of my things first. And then the cold run. We made it just as the sun was coming up. I haven’t seen the sun since.
Tell us a story that's by candlelight: Waging a war and losing the fight
I’ve lived in East Jesus Nowhere, the cell of the rebellion my mother ushered me into, for fifteen years. I just graduated high school, if you can call our lessons of music and stealth real schooling, and am about to join the fight my mother and father died for. I am five foot four, with mid back length auburn hair and storm could grey eyes. I’m toned, I’ve been raised for combat. It is my destiny to lead the army against the evil king of America, to take back what is ours or to fall like all those before me.
They're playing the song of the century, of panic and promise and prosperity. Tell me a story into that goodnight…
My name is Gloria, and this is our story. It isn’t a happy one, but it’s one that needs to be told. I have to know that what we did wasn’t for not. Please, don’t think ill of us when you read our tragedy. Remember we suffered pains you could never understand in this war over sound. But there is one thing that I have to know will survive. He has to survive, even if it is only in song and memory. His name was Billie Joe, though everyone called him Christian because he, too, was a prodigy. He was the son of The Jesus of Suburbia, my mother’s friend and companion in the original uprising. So please, whoever is reading this. Tell our story to whoever you see, and know this above all else. While it is a tragedy, a horror story of war and all that entails, it is more importantly a love story. Or should I say, it is a love song.
Sing us a song for me…