Bullying Bieber

The situation: President Bieber has the USA enveloped and oppressed in a smooth, pre-pubescent iron fist. Only a small rebel army can take him down- but the leader has a mysterious past...
NOTE: this movella is slightly longer than some of my others, but i think if you persevere, it may actually be quite fun to read. Any 'Beliebers' who want to complain about the derogatory style are free to do so... i just won't care.

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4. Confessions

Rudd lifted the heavy door knocker and let go, seeing it swing and collide with the thick oak door. It opened to reveal the Priest, who ushered them in, his eyes lighting up in surprise at the sight of the young girl. Inside the church, it smelt dusty and dry, although a sweet vanilla smell emanated from small candles lit at the head of the room.

'How did it go?' he whispered.

'Mr Sushi's dead,' spoke Rudd, his expression never changing. 'This is his daughter, we think.'

They walked through the room, past the Nave, and settled at the end of the room. The Priest grappled a large cross attached to the wall, and twisted it twice, hearing it click in agreement. He then pushed it forward with two heavy, thickset hands. The back wall slid out, revealing a large, dark room: The Box.

'Home, sweet, home,' murmured Sara, as she wearily stepped inside and threw her rucksack- bulging with weapons and ammo- onto the table.

Rudd stepped inside and laid the girl on a beanbag seat, giving his rucksack to Half pint. He pulled a chair up and sat in front of her. Sara placed a steaming mug of tea next to her, and began to unload the weapons. Rudd tapped the girl on the shoulder.

'How are you?' he spoke, a smile straining on his face.

She stared at him.

'Are you a dickweed? My Dad was just killed, and you're asking me how I am.'

She drew her legs up to her chest, and stared at the floor.

'So you are Mr Sushi's daughter,' spoke Rudd.

'Of course- i have his eyes. Japanese.'

'So... I'm Rudd. This is Sara,' he gestured to Sara, then to Half pint, 'and this is Half pint. We're your friendly neighbourhood vigilantes, out to get rid of President Bieber.'

The girl twirled a lock of black hair around a slender finger, then spoke.

'I'm Akira. I'm eleven. And I have no idea who you guys are, or what you're doing.' 

'We're The Uprising,' said Rudd, 'And we don't like President Bieber.'

'He's a tyrant,' spoke Sara. 'He started off as a simple music artist, signed at the age of fourteen. But his popularity soared, beyond anything we'd ever seen. His legions of fans, known as 'Beliebers' grew and grew, and soon they dominated a third of the world's population. Then his agent, Satan shit on his soul, decided it would be a good thing to advise him to join the American politics scene. But Bieber wanted more. His pompous ass wanted the Presidency.

Rudd nodded. 'It was a landslide victory. Bieber became President Bieber. He abolished freedom, and forced the population to convert to his ways. Schools began to teach about him, and him only. Those who resisted... were forced to work for him... or...'

'Or what?' whispered Akira. Her watery eyes glistened with anticipation.

'Or they were killed,' spoke Half Pint, sniffling, 'just like my parents.'

His eyes began to fill with cold tears, but he blinked them away. His hands had curled into fists, but relaxed as he spoke. 

'We don't just want President Bieber out because he's a tyrant. No... we all have personal reasons. He killed my parents after they refused to teach about him in their school. He sent three Belibers, they dragged them out of the school, pushed them onto the ground, and had them shot.'

Sara sat next to Half pint, putting a consoling arm around him.

'He took my sister away after she wrote a blog discrediting his role in American Politics,' said Sara, her voice bearing a strange proud quality. 'I haven't seen her in eight years.'

All three of them then turned to Rudd. He was frowning, staring at the floor. His eyes had glazed over, as if he had blocked out everything. Then he spoke.

'My childhood years were the worst of my life. You see, Akira, I haven't always looked like this.'

Rud pulled his wallet out and handed Akira a small picture. She gasped in surprise. The picture showed a young boy of about ten, with soft feminine features. His nose was rounded and his skin smooth and pale. And his hair... it hung in gold streaks, across his face, sweeping over his eyes. 

'For years I was mercilessly taunted just for looking like Justin Bieber,' spoke Rudd. 'Students would write notes about me and send them around the class, they'd comment, laugh, point, spread rumours that i was gay. You see in those days, for every Belieber who liked Justin Bieber... there were three who didn't. And so my life was made a misery just because i looked like him. The bullying got worse as his fame increased. A few times I actually considered ending it all.'

Akira nodded slowly.

'But why hate President Bieber? He didn't do those things to you. It was the students.'

'The thing is, Akira,' regarded Rudd, 'i could just about tolerate their bullying. But what President Bieber has done... it's barbaric.' Rudd's voice increased in sharpness. 'Every time he forces people to do things for him, to bend to his will, it just... it just reminds me of those MOTHERFUCKING BULLIES.'

Rudd sprang up and slammed his hand on the table, his eyes screwed with the pain of remembering his ordeal.

'I've always hated bullies. I was bullied because of Justin Bieber. And when i found that he himself was a bully. Can you imagine the hatred I had for him? He;d ruined my life, and now he was ruining everyone else's.'

Akira nodded. She understood. All three of them had suffered because of him. His tyrannical ways. His bullying. She stepped forward, just as the wall slid across and the Priest entered, worry etched across his face.

'You'd better check the news.'

 

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