I'm so excited to be posting this. The second edition of Kill the DJ is being released tomorrow! This new edition has about twenty pages added to it AND the first chapter of Election Year 2050, my new book. So, here's the first chapter of Kill the DJ:
I have read a lot of books. I have seen a few movies. I know about the predictions. The future was going to be a technology-advanced utopia. We’re talking hoverboards, flying cars, robot servants. You know, cool things like that. Well, that idea couldn’t be farther from reality. Basically, the world went to hell. Everyone is poor, there are wars over water, many people are dying, and the earth is just a big, overheated ball of dirt. The only way to get technology of any kind is by paying a lot of money. Most people don’t have much of anything. No big deal, I’m used to it.
I have my ways of escaping it. How? The same way teenagers have been escaping their problems since the beginning of teenagers. Music of course! Dubstep is the only kind of music most teens listen to. It is very rare to find any other kind of music. I myself like older music and listening to people singing. But like I said, it’s hard to find that kind of music. I guess I’ll take what I can get. So yeah, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Why is this chick talking about the kind of music she likes? And singing? This stuff is not important.’ Am I right? Well, it is important. I promise. In fact, without dubstep, I wouldn’t have much of a story to tell.
“Remember class, your test is tomorrow. The first test of the year. Your only homework is to study cha-” My history teacher, Mr. Eder, was cut off by the bell ringing.
Everyone shot up out of their seats. I grabbed my binder and ran out of the room. As I ran down the hall I saw my best friend, Emma, standing against the wall. She was examining her nails. Typical. She spent too much money on her nails. In fact, she was one of the only kids in the whole school who wore nail polish. Most kids found better things to spend money on.
I grabbed her arm and started dragging her along with me.
Sounding out of breath Emma asked, “Mia, why can’t your brother and sister meet us on the bus?”
“Because they are little kids!” I cried
“So? When we were first graders we walked ourselves to the bus stop.”
“We didn’t have anyone to walk us. Now come on! Before the bus leaves without us again!” I said as we ran down the stairs.
We rounded the corner into the first-grade hallway. My seven-year-old brother and sister, Frederick and Kelly, were waiting for us in front of their classroom door.
“Guys! Come on! Run!” I cried.
Emma grabbed Frederick’s hand and I grabbed Kelly’s, as we ran out of the school. We ran down the front steps and ran the three blocks to the bus stop in about four minutes. I pushed Kelly onto the bus in front of me just before the doors closed, barely closing on my shirt.
As usual, the bus was packed full of students, leaving little moving room. So we stood on the steps.
“What were the school buses like?” Frederick asked.
“The school buses were awesome,” I said.
Emma nodded. “Everyone had a seat because there were different school buses, depending on where you lived.”
That’s right. We don’t have school buses. Five years ago they got rid of school buses and merged all the schools together. Now every school is K-12. It’s the country’s newest way to save money, I guess. It’s not really working though.
When the bus pulled to a stop, I sighed and looked around. Great.
“Alright guys, we have to get off for a second,” I said.
“But this isn’t our stop,” Kelly said.
“I know.” I told her impatiently. “We have to get off to make a path for others who need to get off at this stop. Then we’ll get back on.”
We got off the bus and stood next to it. Once everyone who got off at this stop was gone, we got back on. This time we managed to get seats right in the front row.
I leaned against the window observing all the run down buildings, most of which had gone out of business.
How did this happen? I remember seeing pictures of this city a long time ago when everything was beautiful. There were neon lights glowing all night long. Millions of people used to flock to Las Vegas. Now it’s all like a ghost town. Eerie and quiet. The strip is dark without workers and visitors. I went down there once with Emma. We got creeped out and left after twenty minutes. I just want to see things nice again. Like it used to be.
I was born in 2013. I got to see things that are not around anymore. Even if it was the very end of the good times, I can’t remember much of it. I wish I could, though. Then, in 2017, everything started falling apart. Here we are now, it’s 2030 and I am seventeen years old. And like I’ve said before, everything looks post-apocalyptic.
When the bus pulled up to the stop, I ushered Freddy and Kelly off the bus.
“Can you hang out today?” Emma asked as we walked into the parking lot of the Motel 6. Both our families lived here.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. If my mom is in our room I’ll come by and get you. Okay?”
Emma nodded as she went towards the west side of the parking lot, where her family’s room was.
I sighed as we walked up the stairs. I know it seems odd. Who the hell lives in a motel room? Well, it’s not all that uncommon. Most of the people staying in this motel are living here permanently. Emma and I met here when we were four years old. We’ve been best friends ever since. Most of my friends live in the motel. After school, we all hang out at the train tracks, a few yards away from the back of the motel.
Frederick, Kelly, and I walked into the room. I opened the curtains to let some light in and turned down the TV.
“Mom,” I said.
My mom was lying face down on the bed.
I reached over and shook her. “Mom,” I said again.
Mom looked up. “What?”
“Mom, can you watch Freddy and Kelly? I want to go hang out with my friends.”
Mom nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
I opened the cooler and grabbed a water bottle. Then I opened the bottom drawer, which we used as a cabinet, and pulled out a can of Spaghettios. I put them in the microwave and grabbed a clean fork from the plastic bag on the bathroom counter.
As I waited for my Spaghettios I asked, “Work late last night?”
My mom mumbled, “I didn’t come back here until four.”
“I thought I heard something.”
To be honest, I’m not sure what my mom does. Every time anyone asks her what she does for a living, she changes the subject. I have figured out on my own that it is most likely something illegal. I am assuming something close to prostitution, considering she owns more revealing clothes than anyone I’ve ever seen. It would also explain how she got pregnant with my brother and sister, despite the fact my dad had been dead for years by the time they were born.
The microwave went off and I grabbed my Spaghettios. “See you guys later,” I said as I ran out the door.
I ran down the stairs and started across the parking lot. When I got to Emma’s room, I knocked on the door. After waiting a few seconds, I knocked again. After waiting for about a minute, I started pounding on the door.
“Emma!” I yelled impatiently. “Emma! Open the door!”
I turned around to see Emma standing behind me. “Where were you?”
“At the ice machine.” Emma held up her bucket of ice. “See?”
I nodded. “I see. But I told you I’d come by and get you.”
“I didn’t know for sure if you were coming,” Emma explained. She paused before asking, “What were you doing?”
“Waiting for you,” I said.
Emma raised her perfectly plucked eyebrow. “I see. Seems like someone needs to work on their patience.”
I grinned. “Who? Me?”
Emma smiled as she opened the door. “So, your mom was home?”
“Yeah. She was sleeping. Hopefully, Freddy and Kelly don’t get into too much trouble.”
“Mia, you worry too much. They’ll be fine.”
I shrugged. “I can’t help it, Emma. I mean, they are my baby brother and sister. I love them and care about them more than anything in the world. Besides, they’re growing up in a rough world. I can’t help it if I feel like I need to protect them.”
“Trust me, they’re a lot tougher than you give them credit for.”
I smiled. Kelly was tough, at least. Last year she broke a glass bottle and used it to fend off a bully on the bus the day I had been sick. I don’t even know where she learned to do that. Frederick, however, hadn’t come out of his shell yet. “I know. Now come on, let’s go to the train tracks.”
I hope you guys liked the first chapter! If you did, make sure you preorder the book. You can only preorder the ebook, but tomorrow you will be able to order a physical copy.
Everywhere else: https://www.books2read.com/u/mqp6o9