History Erased

“Do you think this is bad?” My roommate and business partner Greg looked at me with a desperate gaze as we dragged the heavy clunk of metal on our shoulders

“We stole illegal government machinery thinking it was scrap metal, our names have been added to the FBI watch list, and I left the cranberry crumb cakes in the oven back home to burn the house down. So yeah, I’d say that this isn’t the most desirable of situations.” We arrived at our decaying apartment building and dragged the thing into our room. It was an old relic which appeared to be a few years past its expiration date. One could say it resembled an older television dating back to the 2020’s, although it looked more like a poor excuse of a large knock off Ipad to me.

“Set it down there carefully.” I gestured for Greg to put his end of the device on the couch.

“Here?” He instead dropped it on the coffee table, which is glass by the way.

“Close enough.”

It took thirty minutes to decipher which glass shards were from our previous coffee table and our newly stolen machine, but we had it sorted out with some team work and bandages.

We set up the the machine in preparation to activate it. Though it didn’t take long to do so, and I was thoroughly surprised at how my intelligence had figured out how to operate.

I pressed the giant green button on the front labeled “on.” After a minute of generating energy, it began displaying an array of various videos and images. It was confusing at first, but we realized what was happening. We recognized the content as pictures and video clips from historical events learned about in most schools. Though something about them was off, for each picture and video had a title and description associated with said event.

I stepped closer and touched the screen of the machine and read it. It was... it wasn't accurate. At least I didn't think. I tried remembering my old history classes in school to the best of my abilities, and couldn't remember any similarities. I grabbed my phone and searched up the events, only confirming my suspicions that they were incorrect. "But why would the government build a machine that misinterprets historical events?" I put my hand on my chin in deep thought just like any fictional character of a college homework assignment would.

“What’s going on?” Greg stood along side me in an attempt to figure out what I was doing.

"None of these descriptions to past wars and-whatever else happens hundreds of years ago are correct. I'm just wondering what the purpose of a machine like this would be?"

"To throw people off?"

"Throw us off why though? What's the point fo changing history books?"

"Schools do it all the time."

"Yes but this is the government. Where is the professionalism!" I exclaimed, outstretching my hands at the machine still replaying old videos and pictures with descriptions like a poorly made documentary done in movie maker.

"Wasn’t there a thing on our contract that said not to expect professionalism?"

"Why would that be on a contract?!"

"Why would ANYTHING be on a contract! Stop asking questions and start thinking before someone finds out we took this thing."

“Fine!” I knelt down in front of the machine and began pressing buttons at random in the hope of discovering something-anything that could lead us closer to the machine’s purpose.

Eventually I found a setting labeled, "do not open." So I opened it and read the long wall of text that looked like one of those side effect warnings on over the counter medicine.

By the end of it all, I sat back in awe. "Wow." I was beyond shocked at what I had read.

"What happened? What doesn't it all mean?" Greg asked desperation.

"That's the thing... I have no clue. The whole thing is written like one of scholar essays by people with Phds who get paid to write magazine stories no one can decipher without every Morse code to ever been invented.

"Wait about this?" Greg pointed at a small sentence at the very end, only separated from the large wall of text. It read:

TLDR, This machine is one of many others in different government facilities which contain the real historical events documented years ago that was replaced by the manuscripts SNL parodies in 2035 so our school system can better protect our children from ever knowing the truth of our country’s origins.

"Well then..." I did what I'm sure Greg and my self conscious wanted to do, and switched back to the screen displaying all the pictures and videos.

We sat down and continued reading them in pure curiosity.

What we saw was astounding.

The moon landing of nineteen sixty nine was actually completed by someone named Neil Armstrong and not Lassie.

The day the light bulb was invented was actually done by Thomas Edison and not a lightning strike on a Minnesota cow farm.

Next we saw the wonderful year equal rights was granted to America. Never mind get taken away the next year. No wait they were given back the year after- no they were taken away two weeks later- did we ever get that figured out coming to think it.

Dozens of images and videos and newspapers clips flashed across the screen at a quickened pace as we devoured its contents in desperation to learn more.

Pictures of wars, audio of speeches, newspaper article, a video of two old men fighting in bingo. Never mind it was the two thousand and twenty presidential election.

The more we watched the more overwhelmed we became. There was so much to intake, it would almost kill someone out of pure shock of what was held back from us.

No wonder society was so stupid now. This is what we were being taught. But why? The more I thought about it the more I realized. The only people who have access to these machines are high scale government officials. The rest of us only know what we're were spoon fed as kids. We have become dulled down, yet huge corporate companies have the historical and scientific knowledge to continue making more advanced creations. We're becoming emotionally and intelligently watered down to manipulate possibly?

Though he didn’t have time to fully think his conclusion through.

I heard a pounding on the door which made the room shake along with my already beating heart.

“It's the police! Now open up this door right now or we will use force!

Just then, the “FBI open up” meme played on my screen. “Fitting.”

“Do your worst! I have an egg beater and I’m not afraid to use it!” Greg shouted heading to the kitchen and coming back with said egg beater and our now burnt cranberry crumb cake.

The police knocked even harder than before, startling us both. “Why don’t you take it off by its hinges while you're at it!” I didn't expect them to actually do it. The door came down, and an officer buffer than John Cena placed it against the wall gently.

“Can I place this here?” He asked politely.

“A little to the left if you can.”

“Of course.” The officer moved it as instructed

“Is that good?”

“Yeah that’s perfect.” I nodded before the officer summoned his co-workers who pulled out their guns and yelled at us to put our hands behind our heads.

“Hey Greg? Like racing?”

“No but- I grabbed the machine then dragged Greg by the hand as the sound of bullets fired behind us conveniently missing us like plot armor. We jumped out of the window onto the balcony where the fire escape was. A new mission had started, and if they wanted the machine, they would have to fight us for it. It was our lives over the machine…