It's a thief in the night

To come and grab you

It can creep up inside you

And consume you

A disease of the mind

It can control you

It's too close for comfort

Throw on your brake lights

We're in the city of wonder

Ain't gonna play nice

Watch out, you might just go under

Better think twice

Your train of thought will be altered

So if you must falter be wise

Your mind is in disturbia

It's like the darkness is the light

Disturbia

Am I scaring you tonight?

Disturbia

Ain't used to what you like

Disturbia

Disturbia

Rihanna- Disturbia

The world is a blur. Just an endless canvas of gray and black. The rain pours down on the pavement. My black boots slosh in the puddles as I run. The bag full of supplies is clutched tightly in my hand. A small pistol in the other.

A thief. That's what I'm reduced to in these times.

It's not fair really. I never asked for the state (and possibly country) to be taken over by tyrants. Teenage tyrants nonetheless.

There are four. I've never seen them, let alone know their names, but other people do. Each one has a special quality to them. One is racist and intolerable of anyone different. Another is cold and aloof and shows no feelings. Another thinks love is useless and just uses people for sex. The last one is just a guy who just wants to see the world in ruins (even though it already is).

I used to live in a great world. Food was bountiful, water didn't give you dysentery, there wasn't a new typhoid or blood cancer victim every week or so. There wasn't a day when people thought there was going to be a second Holocaust.

Yes, there was a second Holocaust.

I remember it so well. The day I became a thief and runner from justice was the day my parents died in that Holocaust.

It was a year ago, when I was sixteen...

BOOM! The loud sound of a bomb going off startled me awake.

"Kyle?! Kyle?!" My mother's voice echoed through the house. "Kyle, bubbula, where are you?"

I hopped out of bed, pulling on my green hat, and dashing out of my room. My mom was standing in the hallway, my Canadian younger brother Ike standing next to her.

"Mom, what's going on?" I asked her.

"They're coming for us Kyle." She told me. "They already took your father. Now they're coming for us."

Someone pounded on the door.

Mom jumped. "Kyle, take your little brother and get out of here."

"But what about you?"

Whoever was one the other side of the front door was now trying to kick it down.

"Now Kyle!"

I grabbed Ike's hand and let him to the back door. I through it open just as the front door came crashing down. As the two of us ran from the house, I could hear gunshots, and my mother's scream.

Ike and I stopped at a train station five miles away. I saw a train going to Montana, and got a great idea.

"Ike. I need you to get on that train. It may be the only way you'll get away." I told you.

"Wait, what about you?" Ike asked.

"I'll find my own way out of here. But you have to go." The train began to move. "Now."

"How am I gonna get on?"

I moved behind him and yelled, "Kick the baby!"

"Aw don't kick the fucking baby, I'm 10 years old!" He whined.

I delivered a swift kick to his backside, and he went flying into a boxcar.

"I'll come back for you when it's safe!" I yelled to him.

"You said that last time!" Ike yelled back.

I never saw him again. It's been a year and a half now, and all I've been doing is struggle to survive.

In this world, you have to be tough.

In this world, your gang is all you have.

In my gang, there's a bunch of us who went to school together before these four assholes overthrow the governor. How they even did is a mystery.

I live with five other guys. Tweek, Butters, Pip, Stan, and Clyde. Like me, they've all had their fair share of tragedies in their life.

Tweek lost his parents and during a mass bombing six months ago. He was alone and had no one to turn too. No one really accepted him because of his jittery nature and irrelevant outbursts. Since most of my gang was let in because of my sympathy, I let him join.

Butters was basically secluded in his basement when the thieves snuck into his house and mutilated both his parents. Of course, he was only down there because his parents, being the bastards they are, left him down there. Assholes. I found his covered in bruises and deathly thin. So I let him into our gang and fed him. He looks much healthier now.

Pip was abandoned by his parents right after the world turned corrupt. I found him starving, dehydrated, and nearly dead. Well it was actually Butters who found him, but he decided that Pip would stay with us even though Butters never even asked us what we thought. But I guess he's not that bad as he used to be.

Stan's parents were killed in an armed robbery a week before he joined. His sister Shelly, disappeared three weeks before their deaths to be with her own gang. Her whereabouts are currently unknown.

Clyde lived with his father- being his only living relative left- with him after his sister died of typhoid fever. A month prior to his join, Clyde's father was found dead in an ally with several bullet holes in his head. Clyde joined us when he had no where else to go to. He was alone. Like the rest of us.

Now here I am, running from a group of nineteen year olds I stole from. I know, that was a really stupid move. But I had too! They took the last of the supplies, and the others and I are starving.

"That kid is so fucking dead!" I heard one yell. Fuck, they're chasing after me.

I rounded the corner, slipping on the sidewalk, and falling flat on my stomach.

I gasped and hyperventilated as the wind was knocked out of me. The group chasing me began to surround me on the ground.

"Thanks for the supplies, kid." One of them with red curly hair spat at me, grabbing the bag. He proceeded to kick me in the face. "Jackass."

"No..." I whispered.

"Stupid little bitch. He should know better than to steal from us." Another with blonde hair and lime green eyes snarled. "Let's kick the shit out of him."

"No fair Trent, you got to beat up last thief!" The red head shouted.

"Shut up Scott! I can beat anyone up better than you." Trent snarled back at him.

"Alright you wanna through down brah? Let's go!"

Scott tossed the bag to the side and the others began to surround them.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" They yelled.

A pair of arms grabbed onto me and pulled me up. I glanced up and saw Stan.

"Hold on buddy." He told me.

"The supplies." I said.

"Don't worry, we got them."

Confused, I glanced over at the crowd. A small blonde boy was silently making his way over to the bag.

Tweek.

Tweek glanced over at me. His sapphire blue eyes meeting my bright green ones. He grabbed the bag and sprinted over to us.

"AUGH! Let's get out here!" He shouted.

None of us hesitated. We just turned and bolted away from the gaggle of preoccupied nineteen year olds.

I really hate running and I hate stealing more.

But I guess that's what you have to do in the dangerous dystopian society that is good old South Park, Colorado.

A/N: How was that? I randomly got an idea for a dystopian AU in class when we were talking about gangs and societies and other shit like that. I was just sitting there, spacing out like usual when I got this idea. I personally really like it even though I don't know where I'm going with it.

The theme song is (obviously) Disturbia by Rihanna.

Pairings I decided with include Kyman, Creek, Bunny, and Dip. Others may be added later.

I really think this idea could improve and get really good. What do you guys think?

Hopefully I'll see you next time.

-Liv