After the dramatic crash of American economy, society, and finally government - hey, everyone knew it was coming, yet for some reason nobody prepared for it - there was a succession of battles and crashes between other countries. Those that kept themselves upright then shut themselves off from the rest of the world, letting those that were too dependent on others fall as well.

Out of the ashes of the once great United States rose a new country, a more strictly governed one, one that decided that an informed population was less likely to revolt, one that decided that the outside world and the few vagabonds that weren't part of the country were too dangerous to be admitted. The population was divided up into segments, with thick walls both between each other and the outside, given curfews, endless signing papers, locks, and cameras, always making sure that someone somewhere knows where everyone is all day, restricting free time and social interactions. There are long days in school, starting early, afterwards filling the day with mandatory 'volunteer' work until we can get a job. Everyone lives in a large dormitory building, with small Spartan rooms (trust me, I would know) and no privacy whatsoever from the cameras. Social interaction is strictly monitored, and a private counselor is assigned for every 5-10 people, because ones that you made an appointment with were being too overworked and more were needed.

But the worst part is school.

It's not the long hours; everybody's used to those by the time they hit the worst of it. It's not the teachers; half of them are just there to make sure that we don't ditch class or snap from the lessons. Let me explain some of the lessons.

You see, a few years after the new country rose, a scientist found a way to make your brain think it's somewhere else. He combined this with something invented a while back for history class; a way to actually see what might have happened. Now, if children are learning about the American Revolution, an elective, they are sent back to sit in on all the secret meetings and fight in the battles. When talking about Pangaea and learning how our ancestors migrated from Africa, we're sent back to walk the long miles over the generations with them.

I'll give you an example on how this works. Let's use the Boston Tea Party, also from an elective, just because it's not too violent.

You walk into the room, which doesn't have desks or books but hard, menacing chairs with restraints for your arms and legs. The 'teacher' straps you in and you sit as still as you can while a needle is injected into your neck. A stinging sensation and a few seconds later and the fluid injected into you activates a microchip embedded in your brain and you're suddenly lurking in the shadows dressed like a Native American. You sneak onto a ship and find the tea, throwing it overboard with all your other rebel friends. You can recognize some of your other classmates as they help, tossing the tea overboard.

This may not seem too terrible right now, but for other parts of history, from ancient history and trial by ordeal to the more modern crash of America, you can be stuck struggling for survival in the forest or in a bombing, being burnt at the stake or having to slice your best friend's throat. The fluid makes your brain feel everything, from the pain of a bullet to the warmth of your blood. It's no wonder that our population, though people have children just as much as they used to, shrinks by adulthood. Some people just can't handle the classes we're put through to show us why living in our new, protected country is better than life was before.

School is the worst part.