The Purge


Jayda Galvan, Writer

Every year something happens. It’s not those town events with fireworks and hot dogs. It an event that causes death amongst us all. Every year on September 17th, sirens blare through the neighborhoods. People lock their doors shut and board up their windows. It all started five years ago when invaders stormed the city. They call themselves “The Masked Killers.” For twelve continuous hours, they purged our city, killing everyone in sight. So for the past five years, on September 17th, they do the same thing over and over until the whole city is wiped out. But after years of preparing, you know how to prepare yourself. 

“Okay, Haley! Start getting the boards out of the storage room. We only have a couple more hours to finish preparing.” My mom says. I run to the storage room and grab boards. I run back inside the house and hand them to her. We start hammering them into the wall. MY brother was already running in and out of the house getting our cellar ready with food and necessities. My family was never a violent family. We didn’t care at first because we knew we were protected with my dad. But last year, he died trying to save an innocent life, then getting shot in the middle of the street by those monsters. After that, my family didn’t play anymore. We decided to fight for him. There was no way we were going down without a fight. 

“Okay, ma. I’m down stocking up in the cellar. What else do you want me to do?” 

“Turn on the TVs son. We need to be on full alert. After that, get the weapons from storage and put them in the cellar closet.” My brother nods and runs to do each errand. 

“We’re gonna be okay, ma. We just need to get past this, and then it’s over. Or for at least a year…” I say calmly. She nodded and kept hammering. It was already 2 PM, so we had to move fast. 

After everything was covered it was five. Mama was still pushing nails in her bat while I was sharpening all the knives. Then, we heard it. The sirens blared as we all looked at each other and started running to the cellar. I grabbed the phone, the flashlight, and the walkie-talkies. 

“Okay, everyone. We do this every year. This is the year it will all end. I want you to get the rest of the sound-proof barriers and the locks,” She looks at my brother. He runs off. 

“Haley I know this is stressful, but we’ve survived five years. We’re not going back now.” I nod and get in the cellar. All the food is stocked on the shelves and the blankets are tied up in the corner. In every direction I look, there’s a weapon. A sudden burst of fright fills my body. I scrunch the blankets with my fist as I hold back tears. My mom runs in and pulls my brother in. When she closes the door, I can already hear bombs go off. The sirens are still ringing. My brother puts up the sound barriers and sits on the bed. Then the radio turns on. 

“Citizens of Grant City. This is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Weapons of class four and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical Services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m. When the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathers and America… A nation was reborn. May God be with you all.” As the sirens continue, we all hear distant explosions. My brother wraps his arms around me tightly as he sniffles under his breath. My mom grips her bat as we all sit and wait. But then, a car drives by our street slowly with the music blasting. I run to the lights and turn them off. We stay by the cellar door. My brother hides under the bed with a knife in his hand. I flinch as the screams of a woman grow silent. 

“Alright guys, let’s check this house real quick.” A man says. A girl giggles as we hear her jump into the house. I look at my brother and put a finger over my mouth. 

“Don’t make a sound, Jeremiah,” I say. He nods as I look back. Then we hear a man walk out of the house. My mom looks at me, with a tough tear rolling down her eye. I clench my knife as he stops right in front of the cellar. 

“Aye, boys! Have we checked in here yet?” He tries to open the door, but the locks hold the door strong. We hear more people coming out. I silently clench my fists until my brother moves. His back hits the spring of the bottom bed. My mom and I twist our necks back as we look at him. 

“WE GOT PEOPLE!” the man says. My mom runs to a different wall as she yanks my arm and grabs my brother from under the bed. They try and yank it open more with crowbars and punches. She covers both of our mouths as the chain breaks free. They open the doors. My mom hands me a pocket knife as I look at her and nod. She snaps her fingers allowing them to look in our direction. As yells grow louder, my sight goes black. I throw my fist around dramatically, scared of who will grab me. 

“One guy is down! Leave him! Leave him! Get in the car!” one yells as they all run out. 

Bottles connected with fire are thrown at the house as they drive off quickly. As I tap my brother to let them know they’re gone, he looks down at the floor and covers his mouth as he breaks down. I look down trying to find what he’s looking at and see my mom laying on the floor, helplessly.