Hey there! This is my first story about the Boondocks. So if you could review this story with your insights, that would be very helpful so you can tell me if anything is wrong with the plot, spelling or other technicalities. Just give me your thoughts and I'll be happy to keep those in mind. :)

Anyways, hope you enjoy!

The Nightmare

A bone-chilling arctic air descended upon Washington, DC on a melancholy February morning. It had snowed the night before, enough to paralyze any activity in the District…every activity but one. The weather didn't stop politics from raging within the Capitol. It never did. The democratic process was slow and tedious, yet it is essential lest we let the United States waste away.

The 50th President of the United States solemnly stared at the wintry landscape from his stateroom in the White House, apprehensive of what the Senators were discussing. The only light glowing in his room was the one emanating from the television, tuned in to C-SPAN.

Impeachment was imminent. The President thought about that statement for the past several hours. Well, let that be. I'm not going down without a fight. The President had a gun hidden within his suit. He was irrational. Delusional. The years of hard work and his lifetime of agony finally caught up to him.

Finally, he broke the silence. "I want you to know that you've been a good Vice President," the afro-wearing President said. His Vice President stared at him incredulously. And why not? His boss hasn't said anything positive about everything since time immemorial.

"I just want to let you know that you will never see me again after this."

Silence.

After what seemed like another eternity, his Vice President broke the deathly silence.

"They're voting."

The words never seemed to register in the President's brain. It always seemed that way for the past six months. His biggest critics half-joked it was the big hair on the President's head that would never get cut to blame.

Finally, the President walked over to the television. To a child, C-SPAN was uninteresting. Indeed, most adults would claim the same. All it ever showed was a bunch of rich bastards spending taxpayer money as if it grew on trees.

Yet on this day, at this hour, at this exact moment, it was nothing like that from the President's perspective.

"This is for the vote concerning the 50th President's Impeachment. After all arguments have been made, all witnesses standing, and all evidence brought before the Senate, the trial is now closed. Voting will take place via electronic device. There is an hour time limit."

The Chief Justice seemed bored with his words - monotone, to say the least. It seemed as if he was unconcerned with the fate of the President.

At first, not one senator voted in the first five minutes. It always seemed Senators were either lollygagging around or they were just plain indecisive.

It was most likely the former, since everybody knew it would almost come to a unanimous decision.

The President reached into his suit. He felt the cold steel of his handgun and nervously fiddled around with it.

60 minutes…50 minutes…40 minutes…30 minutes…20 minutes…

The President became detached to the situation. It was like watching a movie of himself staring…waiting for an absolution that would never come. Vindication for the President was the last thing every citizen in the United States wanted.

Finally, more senators voted within the final five minutes. A flood of senators voted for conviction, and only a select few would dare vote to acquit.

85 to 4.

It was a result that was probably incredulous to look at, because of all the Presidents who ever faced impeachment, not one has ever been convicted. But one must also take into consideration how he disenchanted most of his allies; conviction was possible, if not inevitable. Eleven senators didn't even bother voting due to the inescapable fate.

"Congratulations, you are now the 51st President of these United States."

The Vice President stared at his boss. He stared into his unrevealing eyes. Finally, the President showed emotion…something that has not happened since his Inauguration day. Sorrow crept into every corner of his once featureless face. The Vice President averted his gaze. He could not bear to see his boss weep.

Silently, the door to the stateroom opened. White House officials accompanied with the Metropolitan Police Force flooded into the room.

"Mr. President, we will escort you out of the White House. By orders of the Chief Justice of the United States, it is our duty to evict you."

The President said nothing, did nothing, and seemed to hear nothing. His Vice President tapped his shoulder in vain attempt to get his attention. After a few tense moments, the President decided to act.

In one swift move, he withdrew his gun from his suit and shot the first person he saw as he spun around with reflexes he thought he lost decades ago.

A bloody battle ensued.

The police force was taken by surprise; of all the people who would fight back and resist arrest, it just had to be the President of the United States. In an instant, the powder keg of the grave situation exploded in the stateroom's atmosphere and the officers were shouting orders to "Fire at will! Fire, damn you! Kill him!" The President was outnumbered roughly fifty guns to one; his Vice President having fled the scene ran for his life as the Secret Service tore him away from his boss, dragging him to safety. Each of the fifty guns pointed at the President were firing tens of bullets per second, each of the loud gunshots deafening enough to be heard throughout the White House and drown out the orders being shouted.

"It's not my fault! I had no part in this scandal!" The President thought. Even if he shouted this fact in front of national television, his words would fall on deaf ears.

As a hail of bullets flew towards the President, he dove behind a thick couch. Porcelain figurines shattered, windows broke, and the walls were splattered with lead. As warfare raged in the room, the President thought about his life. He thought about his parents who died right before his eyes. He thought about his friends, who all deserted him in a Greek tragedy. He thought about the only love he knew…and wondered why it was him whom destiny chose to save…

The President stood up and into the line of fire and shot several bullets at his evictors. A police officer fired a bullet at the precise moment he saw the President. Time became distorted. It seemed like the bullet slowly glided its way through the air. The President's mind raced with millions of thoughts. It finally settled on one thing and it flashed memories before the President's eyes.

The bullet was 50 feet away. It seems that death is inevitable.

He remembered the death of both his parents when he was just a few days from turning 10 years old. He remembered being brought to school by his father one day with a smile on his face, without a worry in the world. He returned from school to see his parents lying in the living room. The walls were splattered with maroon. Knives and bullet cases were everywhere. He went through so many traumas just looking at the corpses of his parents, he thought…no, he knew that he would never smile in his natural-born life again.

And he stuck to that promise.

A precocious mind was the result. He would gain extensive knowledge about the world around him, but with this knowledge came a feeling of emptiness.

The bullet was 40 feet away.

He remembered his Granddad. Granddad took him in along with his 8-year-old brother with seemingly open arms. The inheritance that him and his brother would receive from the life insurance company was spent by Granddad on a house in The Boondocks. Unfortunately, the perceived stability was ephemeral. His Granddad developed cancer six years later and would not be detected until another two years. By that time, the cancer had metastasized into every tissue of Granddad's body. His brother on the other hand, was set on becoming a gangsta. Finally, his brother was brought in by a Baltimore based gang, and immediately trouble ensued. It was just a matter of time until he was shot dead. His prediction unfortunately came true. He always cursed at having the gift of accurately predicting the misfortunes of others around him. His brother died within days of his granddad's death, exactly two days apart from each other.

The day sandwiched between his brother's and his granddad's death was his 18th birthday.

The bullet was 30 feet away.

The President couldn't get out of the way. He was paralyzed on the spot. Instead, his mind continued to race.

He could see his childhood best friend, Caesar. The two of them were inseparable. It seemed like they could talk about anything and still be fine with it. Except when Caesar would insult his dead mother with yo-mama jokes did he fall silent. Unfortunately, Caesar also had clandestine problems as well. It just seemed like he could perfectly hide it and seem fine to anyone. Caesar's parents were divorced at the age of ten. Since then, his mother could no longer support Caesar since she was a stay-at-home mom. With no income from a real job, Caesar's mother became bankrupt. Caesar would constantly blame their misfortunes on himself, and felt as though his mother rejected him as her son. Finally, when Caesar turned 16, he ran away from home and was never seen again. He left his best friend a note explaining his situation concisely, and sullenly told him he would "never see you again. Sorry." True to his word, the President hasn't seen him in decades. The President never knew of the problems that led to his best friend running away until two years ago. He would lament on the outcome…

The bullet was 20 feet away.

The President remembered his first girlfriend. Jazmine…a name that just emanated with cheeriness, he thought. Jazmine's amazing ability to remain optimistic in the most pessimistic of times obviously contradicted with his constantly serious personality. Any depressed person that got near her would immediately turn happy for some reason. In fact, he thought his girlfriend was the cure for depression. Jazmine and his' relationship was overall a tepid one. They would occasionally get into petty arguments due to the stark contrast of their personalities. However, as the months passed, these arguments would escalate into serious problems. This was especially problematic for Jazmine, who also had familial issues. Just like Caesar before her, Jazmine felt she was unwanted by her parents. Unlike Caesar, this was especially true in her case. Caesar's mother loved him; Jazmine's parents wanted to get rid of her. Why they wanted to get rid of her was the coldest excuse anybody could give on anyone's standards. And get rid of her they did. As Jazmine's parents divorced, the judge awarded custody of Jazmine to her aunt in California when neither parent would claim custody.

On the eve of moving to California, Jazmine set up a date with him. This was also the eve of his 18th birthday. Jazmine intended to tell her boyfriend that she would be moving and it the possibility of them ever seeing them again was slim. She couldn't help but fall into depression just thinking about it. He agreed to going on a date with her, but cruel fate decided to play with adolescent minds. Granddad died on the eve of her boyfriend's birthday, and was rushed to the hospital. Her boyfriend was shattered by the unforeseen tragedy that ensued. He had completely forgotten about the date and descended into agony as his Granddad's electrocardiogram flatlined. Jazmine, who felt as though she was stood up, was infuriated when her boyfriend finally showed up several hours late. Jazmine raised hell for a good half hour. The floodgates opened in her eyes, the thunderstorm brewing in her heart, and a hurricane made landfall on her boyfriend. Jazmine was already defeated by her parents' heartless decision. She just couldn't grasp why she was a magnet for calamitous events. Jazmine never gave him a chance to explain. Finally, after the storm inside her rained itself out and dissipated, she broke up with him. "I'm never going to see him again anyway. Why the hell should I not break up with him right now?" she reasoned. On the other hand, her boyfriend was struck with two unfortunate events in one day. Already depressed over his Granddad's death, his anguish was compounded by the break-up. It's strange how the universe decides just the perfect time to just pile the heavy boulders onto you even when you are in the most vulnerable state of mind. Maybe there are forces in this universe that we don't understand…

The bullet was 10 feet away.

The President's mind continued to race with haunting memories. Woodcrest, which seemed like a calm and sleepy town, evolved into a ghost town filled with haunting phantoms in his memory once the Greek tragedy had fully transpired. He could vaguely remember Hiro Otomo's face, yet he still remembered his near tragedy. Hiro Otomo came from a high-middle class Asian family who followed the Asian tradition of being perfectionists. His parents demanded Hiro to do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted without question. This especially meant no socializing with friends, no form of any entertainment, and studying until his grades were straight A's. His parents already determined his destiny to become a doctor, while Hiro actually wanted to become a DJ. At one point, Hiro tried to reveal his aspirations to his parents, only for them to be dishonored and struck down in a flash. The only encouragement went something like this "Go ahead and become DJ. You have bad rife. You want good rife, you become doctor."

Hiro survived, but his dignity was hopelessly annihilated on that fateful day. Hiro often questioned the fact that he had decent grades (enough to get admitted into Princeton) yet he could not be happy from them. What was the use for having good grades anyway? His outlook on life took a toll as his parents refused to support his aspirations. At the age of 17, Hiro was finally admitted into Princeton for Pre-Med a year earlier than most students his age. At that point, he could care less about where his life was going… His parents hated him, he hated him, and nobody cared whether he existed or not.

One day, Hiro decided to skip class and drive back to Woodcrest. He casually walked into his house and found some strong rope in his garage. Hiro tied a noose, walked up to his room and hung the noose in his closet…

He remembered visiting Hiro at that precise moment. It seemed like a divine intervention. He couldn't describe the feeling of apprehensiveness, so he just had to visit his Asian friend. He rang the doorbell, and Mr. Otomo opened the door.

"Ah, It Hiro's big-haired, Black friend. What you want?"

Without saying a word, he remembered hastily barging into the house and racing up the stairs and towards Hiro's room.

He got there in the nick of time. What he saw would haunt him for the rest of his life. A rope securely strapped to the roof of the closet was tied around Hiro's neck as a noose. He has never witnessed a suicide in person, and today was not the time to witness one now. Hiro saw his afro-headed blitz into his room. He clearly remembered Hiro asking what he was doing there.

"Listen to me, you don't want to end your life!"

Thus sparked an altercation. Hiro said something across the lines like "My life? You mean the train wreck of what has become of my life? You don't know what I've been through!"

Somehow, he coaxed Hiro to terminate his suicide attempt after a half-hour of discussing. It was one highlight in his life that stood out prominently against an ocean of misfortunes. In retrospect, the President was proud he saved a life…another friend he potentially lost, yet he stopped fate from eliminating another one of his close friends. During the following days, Hiro finally told him his complications with his parents. He listened intently, and offered Hiro some of his counseling. I actually halted the death of my friend. His achievement garnered encouragement, a scarcity considering how much he's been through.

All in all, the President saw his entire family leave him spiritually before the age of 20. He developed a strong guiding sense of independence from that experience. He saw his close circle of friends degenerate as one-by-one they left him for other cities, mostly due to the dysfunctional relationships they've encountered in Woodcrest. No clues were left for him concerning the whereabouts of Jazmine, Cindy, Caesar, and eventually Hiro as well.

He remembers his presidential campaign, which gave him the opportunity to reconnect with his surviving friends. The contingency to finally come to terms with most of them was given to him, exchanging their apologies with him as he campaigned in their city. They updated each other, laughed, cried, and enjoyed each other's company. Essentially, it was a momentous occasion once he reunited with his friends. In one case, it was him who would offer his condolences as one of his friends passed away in the process of running away from Woodcrest. In another, he learned the hard way how much he still meant to one of them…

Sacrifices were never meant to be easy to endure…

Woodcrest haunted the President's memories. He and his close circle of friends have been through so many afflictions. Most still survived, yet his experiences left him with a deep emotional wound - one that when it seemed to close up and heal, it would split right open afresh. As he looked back on his life, he reminisced the drawbacks and the lessons that were garnered from them. He looked back on the propitious experiences and couldn't help it for being delighted for his achievements. He finally accepted what had transpired in his lifetime. During his presidency, the United States found allies in Russia, China, Iran and Iraq…but if he gained so many unlikely allies, why does it always seem like it was me against the world?

Finally, the bullet pierced his chest.

A stinging pain erupted in his heart, and the last thing he saw was a flash of maroon. The room gradually darkened until he saw nothing. The sound of bullets being fired softened until he was deaf. He was alone. The feelings of dread and apprehension were replaced with peace and tranquility. The placidity of this state of mind demarcated the end of everything. The universe that he perceived has passed away, yet the perception of the universe from everybody else will continue. The 50th President of the United States ceased to exist. All 8.5 billion souls on this planet will continue living.

"I'm not afraid of death. I've come to terms with my life."

So what do you think so far? I'm about to put chapter two up soon so that this prologue can be accompanied with something more related. Make sure you review! And thanks for your thoughts, they're GREATLY appreciated. =]

-Ian