Journal 2

Carrie Johnstone (Severe Haircut Lady)

This morning the terrorists finally struck. They must have been cunning enough to lay the charges on the bridge without any of the many detectors noticing, because we had absolutely no warning in advance. At about noon, the ground suddenly shook as if an earth quake had begun, but this was clearly not the case as chunks of flying debris rained down on the city. Other officials immediately rushed to the microphones in order to quickly guide the citizens to underground shelters. I took my men and got into a jeep to swiftly search the city for the damage and any remaining terrorists. We almost took off right away when one of my men noticed we had nothing more than out pistols, which we were to carry by-regulation, so the four of us rushed back for the guns, and sped off as fast as we can, determined to catch the terrorists. As we drove around, we saw the site where the explosion had been, it was the bay bridge. The damned terrorists had blown the bay bridge.

We kept driving in silence as we thought what this would mean, increased traffic, the expense of rebuilding the bridge, which would cause the government to be temporarily unorganized, making it easier to smuggle illegal drugs and weapons in and out of San Francisco. Just as I was deep in thought, a kid jumped in front of the jeep and the driver pulled to a sharp stop, and we all lurched forward. As I regained my focus, I saw four kids in front of us, 3 were waving at us like you’d wave at a taxi, and one was on the ground, and if you looked closer, you could see a puddle of blood under him. A lot of possibilities ran through my mind, but I decided that the best choice was to just follow the procedure, and detain the few of them. These kids were vicious, instead of simply asking us why they were being arrested – as a lot of teenagers do – they tried to resist, one was yelling and trying to run away to his friend on the ground, who we knew did need medical attention.

We had to knock one out to get them under control, and put some bags on their heads to keep them down. The medic in our squad took care of the wounded one and we also tied him up to make sure he didn’t try to rebel. Since our jeep only held a maximum of five people, we called for a truck to hold the suspects. I was very tempted to start a conversation to break the silence, but that would give the suspects the impression that this was all fun and games, which was clearly not the case. The truck soon arrived and saved me of my itch. We loaded them into the truck and cuffed then into a small metal cage made especially for keeping criminals. We closed the door to the front and started chatting on about what we should do about the bridge, I was so angry I almost forgot regulations and spoke an officer’s name out loud, but was saved by a bump in the road. After a bit more driving, the kid that tried to escape started yelling again, none of us could tell what he was saying over the noise, but it differently wasn’t anything good, so one of the others went over and hit him over the head.

========================================================================

I chose Carrie Johnstone for this journal entry because she is one of the main and most hated antagonists, and is usually regarded as the ‘evil bad guy’ in this book. By doing this journal entry in her point of view, I wanted to show how a lot of misunderstandings happen and that a lot of things aren’t just simply black and white, or in other words, that most things in our society aren’t simply sorted into ‘good guys’ and ‘bad guys’.

I chose this particular event because it is the beginning of why Johnstone is regarded as the bad guy, and why Marcus came to decide to wage war against the DHS. In the book, which is in Marcus’ point of view, Marcus and friends are simply arrested in a extremely rough manor, which did not seem to have any reason.