Prologue: What's Your Story?

Zack walked onto the stage. The lights were blinding, he'd been out of the sun for far too long. The audience cheered and whooped, but Zack paid no mind to it. He paid no mind to anything really. He was a different man in many ways, but also the same old Zachary Martin in the ways just the same. Zack the troublemaker. Zack the prankster, the class clown. Zack the underachiever. And recently a title no one ever thought he would attain: Zack the leader.

It had been 7 years since the S.S. Tipton had docked in Boston to let the graduating seniors return to a world where the everyday struggle of life became all too real for most. Seven, a lucky number, Zack scoffed in his mind. At the young age of 17, a few 18, they were eager to find their place in this new surrounding. Many went off to find jobs immediately, re-establish old friendships. Some began to search for colleges; others still became swamped with the endless possibilities of this new life.

Zack sauntered onto stage, his old swagger and style evidently missing, it had been years since he had been the carefree kid he once was. He took a seat in the chair adjacent a lady with a delicate teacup in hand. He knew the woman, seen her on the TV shows his mom used to watch almost a forever ago. The lady across from him was none other than the famous Oprah. She greeted him with a soft handshake and introduced herself to him. He nodded his head once, only vaguely paying attention to what she said and staring off into the distance behind her.

"Everyone, the infamous Zachariah!" Oprah announced very loudly to the crowd, who cheered and screamed their approval in return. "Now, we all know this man as the infamous street artist and guerilla who has graced, though to some it was a scourge, the streets of Boston with his various artworks. But beneath that man who lead a life of defiance is a boy with a brain too big for his heart." Well weren't those some words Zack had never expected to hear. "And today we bring him on this show to delve into his past and learn the story of the man who led a daring revolution on the Government of the United States and survived. Zack?"

"Err… morning. Is it morning? This damn jet lag has my sleep schedule messed up," Zack began, an uproar of laughter escaped the crowd at what seemed to be a silly joke, something he used to be good at. To him, every soaring laugh was like a steaming jeer, a yell of hatred from someone who had disapproved of his very existence, but he pressed on throughout. "I must say it is an honor to be on this show and I must say I have to hand it to Oprah here for convincing me to come here today. I haven't been the same since I got back and the last thing I wanted was a public audience but I must say, she is very persuasive and good at choosing her words when it comes to compelling someone to come on her stage. As you all most likely know, I am the famous, or infamous as you might say, Zachariah. Yes it was I who formed the rebellious group known as "Art". Yes it was I who led a revolution of sorts on the United States and capitalism in general. The US is not all to blame. Believe me, I've traveled everywhere." Zack spoke, half-heartedly, yet with a veil of enthusiasm. He stressed the last word painfully, for it brought back bittersweet memories of when life was good and he could care about so little in the world.

"Art was never meant to be as violent as it became. We meant to open the eyes of the public to the world around them and show them what was happening in reality. The general public is blinded and deafened by the lies spread by the media and encouraged by the government. You may think that Big Brother watching is a sign of protection but he only wants to make sure you live in his house by his rules. This is a play. He's the director, we're the pawns. The truth is a lie, the lies are true. In the words of a favorite band of mine 'All we are is entertainment. Caught up in our own derangement. They tell us what to say and what to do'. Art meant to break down a theoretical fourth wall in this play. We wanted the underlying message in our script to be shown for the monster that it is. We got ahead of ourselves, started taking it further. First it was petty things like the cockroaches in the capitol building. Then we got bolder, we began breaking into government databases, stealing classified files. It began as just a search for new material but then we realized what we could do with this information. If it were ever released to the public in true form, maybe they would see. Maybe we could begin anew and make things right in this fucked up world," he spit out the last few words, obviously disgusted at the current state of our world today. "We saw a vision of the way the world could be and how to make it so. Billboards, plane banners, television spots, world of possibilities opened themselves up to us! All we needed do was embrace it and so we did but by then it was too late. Someone got caught by the police, they ratted everything. Not long after we had begun to usher in this new phase of propaganda attack, the police set off hot on our trail. That's when we pulled the biggest stunt of all.

"Now honestly, I was aware that some members of the group had begun to gather separately and I should have recognized they were planning something bigger. They knew better than to try and include me in what they had been planning. They viewed me as weak. Too afraid of embracing a 'full' revolution. And maybe I am weak. Weak for knowing my limits. When to push them. When to let them hold their ground. Maybe I am weak for not approving of the bombing and arson of entire city blocks. Our mission was to unite the public and revolt assertively yes, but never violently, against the government. Strikes, bans, stakeouts. Not assault. Those houses and offices that were bombed and burned down on the 7th block in Manhattan, people lived there. Working, sleeping, eating, it doesn't matter. We wanted to rally the public, not use them as guinea pigs for our cause to make statements. We gained nothing from that night and I ensured that those responsible were immediately discerned from the ones who had stayed true after the police showed up on our doorstep asking quite impolitely for us to come with them. We were tried, convicted, sentenced, some longer than others. It's all the same. You stand up for a belief, you get rash, you get caught, you get imprisoned, you get out. Like I said, if it weren't for those guys the police might not have been as hard on our ass as they had been, but it doesn't matter much now. Any questions?"

"You seem to use lots of plural pronouns when referring to different things. We, our, us, they, them, their. Why is this?" Oprah inquired, her voice hinted no offense, only curiosity. They always said curiosity killed the cat, Zack though. No, don't think like that ever! he yelled at himself mentally.

"I envision that one day, in the recent future maybe, we will band together as one entity. Humanity is a single race and it would seem we've forgotten that fact. We bicker and fight and war over the pettiest of things. Land? If we were one nation then what would land matter to anyone? Resources? In this world, it would make sense sure, but think if we worked together. We could have unlimited resources, space travel. So many possibilities. I refer to us and we because I firmly believe that one day we can all say we, not they, not I, not you, not him or her. Us. All as one. I don't mean to sound communist either when I say this, capitalism is much more rewarding for those who commit themselves to something they believe in and love to do. We need more people doing honest work, work that they love, and becoming the best they can be at what they do. It will be what drives our world into the next age."

"Zachariah?" a voice from the crowd sliced through the incoherent chatter of the others with in it, "what's your story?"

Ah well hello everybody. New story. I know, I know: "Another one!". It's ok guys, my other stories will continue to be supported but I had the idea for this a week ago and I've been working on it since, scrapped the first try and the last fourth of this one just trying to get it right. I wanted to take a more dramatic, tragical turn with my stories as opposed to straight up action/adventure (Spies trilogy thing, new chapter coming soon) or horror survival (There Will Come Soft Rains, in process of being rewritten beginning after the first chapter. DID NOT like where I took the story as opposed to where it wanted to take itself). This is only going to be one story meaning no sequels to keep track of unless I have several unaccounted-for epiphanies between now and the completion of this story. This is gonna be done in a Joe Dirt/Forrest Gump style. And for those of you who have never seen those movies first, go see them and second that means that it'll open on Zack in a situation where he's given an audience and is asked to recount his life, starting from his life on the ship up until present (as opposed to birth like in the movies). Once he reaches where current day meets up with storytelling, he starts to get opportunities and begins to piece his life back together after what tore it apart (explained throughout the flashbacks). occasionally there will be an interruption where somone in Oprah's rowd asks him a question. This is theoretically set in 2018 if the twins graduate from high school in 2011. It's obviously going to be a much longer, in-depth story tha my two past ones (three technically) and I sincerely hop you like it! Until next time, au revoir. And remember:

"A review a day keeps the doctor at bay and they're only a click away"

- Ryan