From something I'll likely never publish:
It began simply, the callousness of these desolate days. The winds swept with fiercer gusts, storms grew torrential and violent, the earth rattled, breaking bodies and cracking cement. When the floods left
Governments tumbled and fell. Anarchy became the strongest political platform. Men with guns and wealth became the ruthless class, stealing what they could of time, food, Champions— full circle for Anissa’s people, lands taken, rights ignored, atrocities visited upon them again and again.
The purported civilized became the desperate overlords of those they deemed inferior. The poor and the common man brawled back, forming the Resistance— former hatreds, past prejudices forgotten as the Guard rose. Blacks, Aryans, Hispanics, lower and middle classes of every race forgetting their animosity to rage against the Guard who had assumed control, who had murdered and stolen in attempts to reorganize civility to their liking.
The Resistance grew strong, small communities sharing the burden of survival, becoming phantoms saviors of the dying class, fighting against impossible cruelty, immeasurable odds. Anissa and her people stood against the threats, those seeking to destroy what they could not conquer.