law day
No Courts, No Justice, No Freedom - A New Order:
The Declaration of 2012
Liza Wemakor
Law Day 2012 Essay Contest
M
arcello carried on as he had for the past three years:
he looked at each and every face in the pitiful mass
of prisoners that surrounded him in his jail cell. This
sea of faces seemed to find new droplets to replenish itself
on a regular basis, so that he would awaken every morning
with the same sensation of suffocation—of claustrophobia. It
was an oppressing feeling that made him feel so trapped that
it was as if he had to escape his own skin, so he anchored
himself to the ground by focusing on the reachable things—
by focusing on faces. These faces were so vacant and stoic
that he could peer directly into their eyes, and then into
their souls, without them even realizing their entire essence
had become tangible in his hands. Despite the fact that he
was a prisoner, like the rest, this ability to penetrate souls
empowered him: it made him feel like a god rather than a
rodent in a filthy jail cell.
His favorite game to play—when he was gazing at these
faces—was the guilty game. He would peer into their eyes,
and guess whether or not they had committed the crime that
The Supreme—the new name for the federal government
since the Declaration of 2012—had thrown them into the
gutters for. Marcello had become largely confident in his
skill, although there was no way to prove the theories of
his test subjects’ souls. His assumption was that those
worthy of jail time had a nonchalant, complacent aura; their
souls used the eyes as a speaker, proclaiming, “I am here
because I am meant to be.” As he stared, they would stare
directly back, as though they were challenging him in his own
guilty game...as though their chains were somehow linked
together… The innocents’ eyes were the really complex
subjects to decipher, however. They sang many different
songs, though all were of sorrow. Most would simply deliver
a lamentation of such intense, throbbing pain that Marcello
was forced to look away, lest the angst imbed itself in his own
soul. Others were far more ominous, for it was as though
their eyes were completely shelled over—simultaneously
shutting out anything the world had to offer and closing in
the torment they had seen. Peering at these souls, Marcello
would feel a sudden, intense feeling to tear away his skin from
within and flee once again, and begin scratching furiously…
Thus, the faces were capricious in their physical changing,
but constant in the basic emotions they held. Sadness,
anger, complacency…all rest under the gloomy heading of
18
THE ATLANTA LAWYER
May 2012
Liza Wemakor, a senior at Booker T. Washington
High School-Early College won first place in the
2012 Law Day Essay Contest
desolation.
As Marcello witnessed these diurnally changing faces,
he often pondered why he felt apart from the others—not
particularly in any desolation. He wondered why he was
the constant droplet in a torrential sea—why it was that
he remained as everyone moved forward in their chains.
When these questions would seep into his mind, he would
remember time as it was three years ago: before the
Declaration, before The Supreme gained power…before
average citizens began to overwhelm jail cells…
December 31st, 2011. That was the last tranquil day in
America that Marcello remembered. It was the burst of
confetti and jubilance before the firestorm of hate. There had
been talks that this day would mark the end of the world—that
all on Earth would be swallowed up in a burst of flames at
2012’s dawn—and in some way the prophecy was fulfilled.
It just had not been fulfilled in a way that anyone imagined:
Earth remained; the people remained. But the turmoil and
chaos that soon went on a rampage devoured everyone in
infernal fire.
The first two months were ordinary. Life continued, and
people scoffed and giggled at the crazy speculations of
Nostradamus and ancient Mayan calendars—then things
began to change. What happened was that the world
simply seemed to go insane: greed, condescension, and
misunderstanding seemed to invade everyone’s mind like a
mental disease. The recession in the United States seemed
to grow into full on depression—even more severe than the
Great Depression of the 1930’s and ’40’s. In fact, this new
economic failure was dubbed “the Greater Depression.”
People were convinced that, like all other downfalls in the
nation’s history, this would pass. For the next few months
they continued spending money they did not have on their
videogames, cars, clothes, grandiose houses, and cellphones until the nation was so far in debt that they begged the
countries that they once helped establish for loans. Yet, those
who were now on top had no desire to offer their assistance
when they had a taste of superiority. The government
imposed rising taxes,—namely on the rich—but the American
populous had no desire to pay them: they had too many
“pretty” things to buy. Ironically, the wealthiest and greediest
The O