Georgia Guidestones | Teen Ink

Georgia Guidestones

April 13, 2015
By FullPotential GOLD, Downingtown, Pennsylvania
FullPotential GOLD, Downingtown, Pennsylvania
12 articles 25 photos 4 comments

Favorite Quote:
Realism is an excuse for mediocrity.


“No! I’m telling you, I’m different. I can be beneficial to this new society! Please, please!” she screamed. Nobody reacted. The line moved forward one step.
She was shocked at the calmness of the other people around her. Young and old and black and white and brown and tall and short and fat and thin and beautiful and hideous, all their faces were exactly the same: apathetic, placid. Even little children stood at their mother’s side, not in the least bit distressed.
Even from within the building, she heard no sounds except the evenly spaced whick of a needle. Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest. She turned to face one of the stoic guards. Dark hair, cropped at the chin. Angular features. Hard.
“What will you do with the bodies? You don’t know! I’ll help you engineer a disposal system! I’ll do that for you and then you can kill me! How does that sound? Hmm? Deal?” The pleadings continued. The guard’s gaze didn’t even falter.
She would die in exactly 47 minutes and 13 seconds. She would be injected with a lethal chemical and disposed of without a funeral, obituary, or any sort of remembrance. All her possessions had already been wiped from the face of the earth. Even though she still had 47 minutes of life left, it was as if she was already gone.
So why keep pleading? Because she can’t accept the truth of her death. The looming nature of it- the cold, watery sensation as the poison floods through her veins. She can’t seem to accept that. How sad to spend the last 45 minutes and 58 seconds of life in a state of panic.
Have you ever felt true panic? No.
No. True panic is when you know the time, the place, the circumstances of your death.
Panic effects everyone differently. Some shut down from it. Others become enraged, doing anything to overcome the feeling. Anything to take control of their mind.
But I enjoy watching it. Watching their panic, their different interpretations of fear, just reminds me how much closer I am coming to the New World Order, an Age of Reason.
You see, the world cannot thrive when there are these many people prone to panic. See how they’re reacting now that we’ve told them everything there is to know about their death? We can’t have citizens like that in this new age.
I know when I will die. It will be on my 45th birthday. Because anyone over that age begins to look old and ugly. They are no longer an asset to society. They can’t work, they can’t love, they can’t produce like they used to. I will go to the local Control Center where I will be laid on a sterile white sheet. They will put me to sleep. Then they will drain all my blood and all my fluids. Next, they will remove all organs, excluding the brain of course. They will then cremate my body.
Why is the brain left behind, you ask? Quite simple. How can I seek harmony with the infinite if my brain is not left intact? Obviously there is no way.
Our new society is based off the Georgia Guidestones. Welcome. We’re glad you could make it.


The author's comments:

I reccommend reading the ominous and cryptic "commandments" that were carved into massive granite blocks, known as the Georgia Guidestones, to understand where this piece is coming from. 


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