Morning all. I woke up early with a story in my head and so it’s a bit going backwards to do the writing prompt when I’ve already been writing, but I do need to switch gears in my head so I think this might help. So without further ado, let’s begin.
Interesting. I think a lot of that was background I need to think more about before starting the story and the story needs to start with the main character who only shows up in the last line, but it could be interesting to play around with. And it definitely shifted my mental gears.
Wednesday, February 17th: Some people nevertheless survived.
Some people nevertheless survived. In fact, some even thrived under the harsh regime. A few of those who thrived did so by conforming to the idea and bending all of their will towards adapting to the new laws set forth by the conquerors. They received positions, not as high up as many of them might have had under the old regime, but still mostly secure and relatively profitable. If they chafed under the rule of their new masters or felt the sting of being thought of as lesser than they kept those feelings well bottled up.
They weren’t the only ones who thrived however. On the opposite end of the spectrum were those that survived by providing items that were prohibited under the current law. At first those items tended to be more survival based. After the conflict, medical supplies became one of the first items this budding black market carried. The new regime tracked all medical supplies and conditions. In the beginning it was so they could identify those who stood against them and those serving in their medical facilities were trained to spot the specific wounds their soldiers weapons caused. There were many stories of those who arrived to see a doctor, a plausible story of injury arranged, who were found out and publicly executed. These were not people quietly ferried away never to be heard from again. The new regime wanted no questions. They made no secret of the deaths and in fact printed pamphlets.
It was meant to instill a fear of rebellion, what it did most of all was instill a fear of reporting in. While many of those wounded had fought against the invaders, many had not. The doctors merely stated that it was possible that the injury was related to a weapons only those of the new order could carry and the suspicion was enough for a death sentence. And so the first of the black market grew from this fear. Medical supplies and indeed even doctors were a part of the first goods and services offered. Under the new law only medical professionals trained by the invaders were allowed to practice openly. And only those deemed pure blooded could train. Forbidden from open practice, local doctors joined the black market to provide the services needed. They kept people from dying both of the diseases and from the suspicious of the hospitals.
Unsurprisingly food was the next commodity offered. In the wake of new reforms, new restrictions and new taxes, food for the people became scarce. Open fields were controlled by the government and strict rationing was set into place. On the outskirts of town, in the old warehouses that were abandoned hydroponic garden’s arose. In many cases damage to the roofs allowed natural sunlight to filter through, in others lighting created a false sun. It was these gardens that fed most of the people, sustained them through the restrictions. And it was here, that Talia was born, her father a former doctor and her mother a gardener.