President Chelsea Manning — Hillary Clinton and Donald Trumps Love Child.
November 22:
Chelsea walked into the darkened room with grace, yet fearfully
aware of the situation. A veil of black silk cotton designer dress,
immaculately cut exposing only a small amount of her chest to
offset her freshly cut blonde hair.
“CHELSEA… CHELSEA…” The quite dull roar from the
Stadium permeated to the Green room where Chelsea stood.
“47th and current President of the United States Chelsea
Elizabeth Manning….” A paunchy Doctor stood in his scrubs
watching the Hospital TV, tired and quietly bored. His
emergency beeper went off for the Ambulance, while noticing
his arm began to tingle.
“One of the most significant elections of our time, removing the
fog of war and revealing the true nature of 21st century
asymmetric warfare for a peaceful and equal future. America has
elected a very quirky, very opinionated, very political, very
clever, very articulate President.” The political commentators words
continued to stream live across the world from every channel, as the news
feed on this event was inescapable.
“This stark contrast from Prisoner to Presidential pardon was
unbelievable rags to riches stories of History. Her being nominated and
running through one of the most controversial viral internet campaigns that
had seen everything from death threats to bombing attempts.
Yet the public seemed to find solace and intrigue in her words and
story.”
“The empathy was stronger than small hate-mongers attempting
to scare and people were just sick of lies I guess.” The Doctor
said to himself holding his mobile phone in the Ambulance watching the
news feed.
The forceful energy of microphones and camera lights gathered into
Chelsea’s until every angle of her face filled the screens on every
technological device around the world.
“What is your stance on Israel Palestine?”
“What is your policy going to be on Gay Marriage?”
“Do you want to withdraw troops from the Russian China
borders?
“Do you compare yourself to Nelson Mandela?”
Chelsea stood for a moment and calmly took a moment.
“My duty is to the American People that have elected me.” She
replied taking a long thoughtful pause before continuing.
“Democracy has proven its place in the world and the Internet has been my downfall and also my redemption. Instead of a false hope my freedom and current position. It proves that a President can be representative of the people of the United States as I here I stand. As you can see I am not apart of any specific religion, gender or race.”
“Will you bring charges against Obama and The two Bush
administrations for War crimes?” One aggressive journalist added.”
“No More Questions!” A slender man in black suit, ushered away
the journalists with defiant arms. Chelsea and advisors were given passage
to the backstage area spotted with Secret Service and various
producers of the acceptance speech in her home state of
Oklahoma.
Somehow the United states and Democracy saw themselves
in the struggle of Chelsea. The Media Journalist focused into
the camera streaming live across the world. The Stage lit up to a
tremendous roar, flashing lights within a sea of American flags.
Chelsea composed herself for a long moment bowed head
gathering her first words at the Podium.
“My Fellow Ameri…”
BANG … BANG… BANG…
Three shots rang out cutting the roar to a panic and scream. A
huddle of bodies rushed the stage to catch Chelsea as she
slumped towards the ground. Panic and Chaos overtook the
crowd attempting to exit the stadium. Screams twisted with
crushing falling bodies.
House lights lit up.
“There has been shots fired at the President.” Journalists faced
to their cameras, half in panic and their duty to report.
“EVERYONE CALM DOWN… Please EXIT CALMLY.”
The Stage manager said over from the Podium where Chelsea
lay in the arms of Medics and black suited Secret Service men
crowding in a protective circle with guns drawn with one hand
on there ear pieces.
Chelsea looked up to the silhouettes of heads and lights, as her
body for the first time seemed not to exist.
‘Is this what it has all come to?’ Chelsea thought.
She thought quite aware of some pain and began to slip into
dream. As her breath slowly came back into view. Her dress suit
was ripped open yet the Kevlar compound had absorbed most
of the bullet as a huge bruise had formed in her recent breast
implants. She was rushed to a Bullet proof motorcade where an
ambulance placed her on the trolley as the rush of adrenaline
was starting to fade to the twilight of death.
“Look at this?” The White house Doctor pulled a thin sliver of
silver wire protruding from Chelsea’s bruise where the bullet
had bruised her breast implant.
There was a moment of perplexed silence while her eyes lit up
shining green from the heavy black eyeliner. The glow outshone
all the paramedic and doctors ability to see and there was
complete white light filling the entirety of the Ambulance.
“You know I am sent here to cause division by unifying peoples Hate.”
Chelsea said in an ultra powerful voice of a Norse woman.
“We suffer here with all the creations of difference to give you
a PLACE in this universe but YOU DO NOTHING WITH
your GIFTS!” Chelsea’s voice grew impatient and sat up ripping
the medical monitoring devices and kicked and smashed
through the back of the Ambulance lights slowly fading back
from extreme white light to a flicker.
The doctor was still stunned and blinded yet managed to find
his way to the door. Yet he noticed they had stopped and the
secret service voices and hustle did not exist.
A bright ball of energy seemed to hover above the roof of the static
Ambulance.
Only the sound of deep winds caressing the valleys and the smell of engine
oil mixed with the sweet scent of Lantana flowers lingered.
“As I have died you have traveled with me to my past life… Unfortunate but it happens.” Chelsea said to the Doctor.
“The gods or what you would use quantum theory in your time to
explain. Anyway I was told this would happen.”
“Why… where are we if not in Oklahoma?” The Paramedics
was unable to focus as the Doctor walked closer to the doors on
the van.
“I was a queen once in Pagan times and traveled too far in the
Shamans eyes. I saw this life and was banished to these tar pits.
Surrounded by Lantana flowers I sank in to deep despair for
having given too much information than the time I was born
into could handle.”
“Why did you bring us here?” The doctor caught a glimpse of
Chelsea naked yet in another half-human form. Chelsea
continued to walk into the Tar pits traversing every rock and
stable footing like old familiar trails.
“You will go now… This will occur to you as a dream and no
one will believe you.” Chelsea’s voice deepened as the light
shone white sabers across the oily expanse of nothing but purple
edges of flowers. As she turned the white light blinded the
Doctor.
“Sorry… I think we have just had a slight problem with the
alternator.” The Ambulance driver said as lights inside the
vehicle flickered on and off. The Doctor and Paramedic looked
at each other with headaches unable to evoke a response. There
memory was fading. They were all stuck in the breathless moment of
travelling through time.
The Doctor grasped at Chelsea’s breast to find the silver line he
remembered. Yet there was nothing.
“Is that how you treat all your patients Doctor?” Chelsea said
in a light voice to the doctor. Looking down at her ‘c’ cup
breasts and nipples exposed and quickly reached to cover her
chest. The doctor gasped and began to feel the immediate
symptoms of a stroke or heart attack tingle in his right arm. Yet
he was compelled to continue his job.
“Are you the next president of the united states? Chelsea
Manning?” Chelsea glared at the Doctor. “I was just watching
your inaugural address to the nation as the forty-seventh
president on TV.” The Doctor was beginning to shake “Wait
what is that perfume you are wearing?”
“Its called Lantana… MAN!!!!
Now what has this got to do
with?” Chelsea was perplexed.
Chelsea looked awkwardly at the Doctor as the van jostled over
bumps in the road. “Look man I am just have been
shot can you help me with this…” Even though the wound was
superficial, the doctor patched and worked as fast as he could
until his face locked up with a full aneurysm as he pitched back onto the
Paramedic assisting him.
“Do something man!” She said and began drifting back into shock,
talking a strange dialect that sounded like a number of different voices and
characters all crammed together.
The Paramedic injected his limp arm with some syringes, but it was too late.
“I don’t know. He must have had a minor stroke we must get you
both to hospital.” The assistant paramedic relayed information to the
hospital. The Doctor lay still and limp in Chelsea’s arms.
“Why did he call me Chelsea Manning?” Chelsea gasped feeling
the shock of the circumstance wear off.
“My mother named me Bradley…Why?”
The ambulance swerved sharply into the red haze of the Hospital
Emergency bay lights.
“He was in love with her when they were in the army together in
the 10th Mountain Division. I guess his heart broke when he
told his sergeant that Chelsea had been giving diplomatic cables
to Wikileaks. He was always going on about it but you being
black. I don’t know how but it triggered something. Maybe after
Obama’s assassination last year it woke something up?”
“Wow man… I thought I was Fucked Up!” Chelsea lay back
into the pillow relaxed as the doors opened with an extra bed
for the Doctor and the Paramedic quickly stashed the CIA ear piece
and narcotic needles she had used and replaced with others from her
pocket.