It has been five years since the Depression started. People in the once prosperous United States were falling into the endless loop of hunger and sleeplessness. It felt like the darkness the people of the States have drowned in would be there for eternity. The great stock market crash of 1929 haunts the dirty streets. Homeless people search rusting dumpsters for something edible. The ghosts of former stock market investors billow through the alleys, while reminiscing about their days of glory. Children grow up with no food in their stomachs, no shoes on their feet, and no education. Within all this chaos, president Herbert Hoover stands in his untouched White House. He watches all the suffering, torment, and dread as it unfolds along the country. You
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You don’t worry for yourself, you worry for your kids. Without a father, without a home, without food in their stomachs when they fall asleep on the ground. Is this the American Dream you were chasing? The American Dream sings to you, promising rewards for your hard work. The dream whispers freedom, enchanting you to join the game. But where was freedom? Is freedom real? You think about people in the central States, abandoning their farm land. You think of the playful dust devils, suffocating people and animals. Before all the thoughts drowned you, you pulled back up for air, water dripping down your eyelids. Your soiled hair clings onto your face like vines, as the chilling breeze brushes against you. You breathe a couple easy breaths, calming your heart rate. One of your kids appears behind you, and asks if you are okay. You snap, telling them to get ready with their sibling, as you wipe your face with the musty towel. You flinch at your harsh words and the silence, turning around to console your kid. You tell both of your children to come over, and they do so, and you hug them. After a minute of huddling for body warmth, one of your kids asks when the darkness would ever
You don’t worry for yourself, you worry for your kids. Without a father, without a home, without food in their stomachs when they fall asleep on the ground. Is this the American Dream you were chasing? The American Dream sings to you, promising rewards for your hard work. The dream whispers freedom, enchanting you to join the game. But where was freedom? Is freedom real? You think about people in the central States, abandoning their farm land. You think of the playful dust devils, suffocating people and animals. Before all the thoughts drowned you, you pulled back up for air, water dripping down your eyelids. Your soiled hair clings onto your face like vines, as the chilling breeze brushes against you. You breathe a couple easy breaths, calming your heart rate. One of your kids appears behind you, and asks if you are okay. You snap, telling them to get ready with their sibling, as you wipe your face with the musty towel. You flinch at your harsh words and the silence, turning around to console your kid. You tell both of your children to come over, and they do so, and you hug them. After a minute of huddling for body warmth, one of your kids asks when the darkness would ever