[ WP ] A terrorist act during the 40-50 's results in the creation of color . Describe the before , the during , and the after of this event .

`` Those brownies are poisoned.'' 
 `` What?'' 
 `` The brownies you ’ re eating. They're poisoned.'' 
 `` What're you talking about?'' 
 “ I ’ m parked outside, I can see you through the window. ” 
 “ Oh. ” 
 `` James, I need you to trust me right now. You need to get out of the 
 house. Get away from everyone you know. And do n't eat anything.'' 
 `` Alright, fine.'' Mav could hear James sigh. As long as he got out of 
 the house, everything would be okay. He ’ d been short with his 
 brother, but hopefully that would encourage him to hurry. Honestly, 
 the only thing that could go wrong right now is if his parents came 
 home. Once upon a time, he would have waited for them to come home, 
 and welcomed them with warm embraces. But now he had been to the city. 
 He had seen how real people live. 
 James ambled out of the house toward the car. It was the kind of 
 night where everything began to fade and lose its distinction: dark, 
 but not so much that you couldn ’ t see anything; just dark enough to 
 make everything lose its contrast. 
 James stood in the middle of the street, next to the driver ’ s side door. 
 `` Get in the fucking car!'' 
 `` Oh, right.'' James trudged around to the other side. Thump. Click. 
 `` Why'd you lock the doors?'' A look of confusion crossed his brother ’ s 
 face. 
 `` We're going for a ride.'' The lifeless trees whipped past. Mav's eyes 
 and hands began to react. Just like he was taught, he took a deep 
 breath and relaxed. Foot on the brake, ease your foot off the clutch, 
 foot on the gas, hand moving into second gear, speeding up, into third 
 gear, more gas, and brake for the stop sign. Nothing about him 
 betrayed the urgency he felt beating in his chest. Stay calm. When 
 you lose your composure, that ’ s when people get hurt. 
 `` I need you to trust what I'm about to tell you.'' 
 `` Okay.'' 
 `` Really, like I need you to promise me.'' 
 `` Okay.'' James was completely indifferent. Just like everyone else in 
 this godforsaken place. Except for the police of course. Everyone 
 was told everything they needed to know to perform exactly the way 
 they were supposed to. They were taught to reject feelings, and 
 reject what made sense. Not everyone could achieve their dreams; it 
 was a simple fact of life. The suburb ’ s role in society was to 
 prepare people for a life of disappointment, and abandonment, and they 
 performed their duty admirably. Give up your dreams, your time is 
 better spent awake studying the plant cycle of dandelions than 
 sleeping, away in a world where you determine the cycle of the 
 universe. Give up your passions; they ’ ll only get you in trouble when 
 you try to stand up for them. Your ambitions, your wants, your 
 desires, they were all distractions from what was really important: 
 being a cog in the societal death machine. “ It'll be okay if you 
 trust in the system. ” It'll get you where you want to go, as long as 
 where you want to go is where it wants to take you. And if you try to 
 get out of it, you ’ ll be eaten alive. 
 `` Mav, what ’ re we doing?'' 
 `` Do you want to get out of here?'' 
 Pause. `` What do you mean?'' 
 `` Do you want to get out of here? This town I mean.'' 
 Pause. 
 “ So?'' 
 “ Well where could we go? ” 
 “ The city. I ’ ve sent you letters. You ’ ve gotten my letters haven ’ t you? ” 
 “ Yeah. ” 
 There were many things the government had a hold on. Text messaging, 
 phone calls, email, pretty much everything electronic. It was very 
 easy to type in a name, or do a Control+F and search through millions, 
 if not billions of pages of text for words and phrases such as 
 “ escape ” “ leave here and never come back ” “ discover the truth about 
 yourself. ” And after you discounted teen love songs and boy band song 
 lyrics, you ’ d inevitably be left with words of warning from people in 
 the Movement to those that did not yet know of it. 
 Snail mail was one of the last safe havens, because of the amount of 
 effort it would take to unwrap and read every single letter, then 
 reseal them, and get them to where they were going in a reasonable 
 amount of time. The man power it would take would not be practical, 
 especially now the majority of communication took place digitally. 
 “ I can guarantee you a comfortable place to live, not necessarily the 
 nicest digs you ’ ve ever seen, but all the reasonable comforts, a nice 
 bed, your own bathroom, a kitchen, and a place to hang out. You won ’ t 
 go hungry, there are plenty of people to meet, and plenty of things to 
 do. ” 
 “ What about college? ” 
 “ Why do you need college? I can get you a job right now. You don ’ t 
 need to waste hundreds of thousands of dollars going to school, and 
 you can start right now, not two, or four, or any amount of years more 
 than that. ” 
 Mav checked his rearview mirror. There was a car behind them. It was 
 a few blocks back, but you couldn ’ t be too careful. Mav signaled, and 
 turned right, pushing it from his mind. James blinked. “ I don ’ t know 
 man. I kind of like it here. ” 
 “ Why? ” 
 “ I don ’ t know, like, I have my friends. ” 
 “ You ’ re going to be leaving them at the end of the year anyway. ” It 
 was true, James was planning on going to college the following August, 
 nowhere near any of his close friends. 
 “ Yeah, but… ” 
 “ And you could always visit them. ” Mav checked his mirror again. 
 The same car was still a few blocks behind them. He signaled, and 
 took another right. 
 “ Yeah. But what about all my stuff? ” 
 “ I can arrange to have it picked up. We ’ d have to leave most of your 
 stuff obviously, but we can get your clothes and shower stuff. ” James 
 frowned at this. Mav checked his rearview mirror again. The car was 
 still there. This conversation was taking longer than he had liked. 
 “ But… ” 
 “ James, you ’ d have to leave it anyway. ” 
 `` Yeah. I don ’ t know... ” 
 “ What is it? ” 
 “ I just don ’ t think Mom and Dad would want me to. ” 
 At those words, Mav braked, and unlocked the doors. “ Get out. ” 
 James appeared confused. His look was justified, but it still annoyed 
 Mav. “ I ’ m serious, get out, it was nice to see you. Look for my 
 letters. ” 
 “ Where am I? ” 
 “ Seriously? Alright, you ’ re about a mile from our house. Follow this 
 street the way we ’ ve been going, go right, go right again, and you ’ ll 
 run into our street. ” And with that he pulled away. The car was now 
 only a block behind him, driving by his brother. Mav breathed a sigh 
 of relief. If they picked up his brother, they would learn nothing 
 they didn ’ t already know. But if his brother was subjected to any 
 sort of cruelty because of him, he didn ’ t think he could live with 
 himself. Mav hadn ’ t thought about that before. He would have to be 
 more careful in the future. 
 Mav had planned on telling James about the Movement ’ s plans and goals. 
 But if he still cared enough about his parents to allow them to make 
 this decision… 
 Mav coasted up to a corner, signaling right. The car behind him 
 signaled too. Three rights make a wrong. Mav gunned the engine, 
 jumping from second to fourth gear, accelerating along the winding 
 suburban streets. The car behind him hadn ’ t expected this, and was 
 slow to make up for its mistake. Only a few more blocks, and he would 
 be safe. Mav shot through intersections like a bullet through glass, 
 breaking the quiet peaceful mood that had settled on the streets, the 
 car behind in hot pursuit. It was clear that the car behind him would 
 quickly become the car next to him, and ultimately become the car that 
 foiled his escape, if something didn ’ t happen soon. Something was 
 about to happen. 
 As the car pulled nearly parallel to his Volkswagon, Mav swerved off 
 to his right, seemingly into a bog that made up the border of the 
 road. Yes! As the cattails and mud slid over the hood of his car, 
 his wheels spun, losing their traction before regaining it on the 
 gravel path that ran beneath the swamp. 
 It had been a close call, Mav ’ s closest call to date as a matter of 
 fact, but he had made it. Mav relaxed, leaning back in his seat, and 
 released the breath he had been holding in. Mav smiled. Driving 
 along these unseen passageways always made him feel like a badass. 
 After a few minutes, he pulled up at what appeared to be a dead end. 
 He flicked his lights twice at the wall before him. With a squelch, 
 it began to slide, parting in the middle. Mav pulled through it, and, 
 pulled up next to one of the other cars that was parked in the 
 underground lot, sliding into neutral, and pulling the E-brake. There 
 were five cars here already waiting, he made the sixth. Four of the 
 spots remained vacant. From the dingy light provided by the 
 fluorescent bulb near the doorway, Mav couldn ’ t tell who was here and 
 who was still out. No matter, he would see soon enough who had made 
 it back so far. He locked his car, and headed over to the door, his 
 feeling of relief replaced by a feeling of anxious excitement he felt 
 when in the presence of others in the Movement. 
 Mark was in the middle of a speech when he entered. `` …put simply, do 
 you believe in your life? Not in that it exists, but do you believe in 
 every action you take? Do you support them? Does everything you do 
 resonate as right to you? ”
