Kevin+Perez

My portfolio is something special to me. It shows my accomplishments and my failures. It shows how I have been able to progress through the ladder of life. It shows the talent I have aquired through out the years, and the hard work I have done to get through the enourmous swamp of life. This portfolio means a lot to me, because it has allowed me to tap into the creative side of me and show the world from my perspective. It does need some work and I am willing to work on it, but it is the best of my work that I have done in the Creative Writing Class. I have improved since the last portfolio in the way that I write and express my feelings in the form of writing. So I thank all who supported me in the making of this portfolio and hope you enjoy my work. If you want to see some of my graphic design work go to __[|Balboa Design] __

Thank-You




 * The Next Great War **
 * A Novel **

Introduction  I stare at the rubble. The destruction and the devastation. At the people emerging from the ashes of war with the will to move forward and rebuild what has been lost. Now we join hands with our enemies and unite in the spirit of brotherhood to see the error of our ways. I am here to tell the story. Not just that of the American people or the Mexican people, but that of all those involved in this horrific war.

Tensions Rising  It had been 3yrs since the Chinese-American war. The American economy was booming and factories had returned to the U.S, but our neighbor Mexico was in disarray. No battle had been fought in the U.S. But rather throughout its neighbors and Mexico had felt the worse of the battles. They blamed us for their mishap and I believe now that we were somewhat responsible for their misery. After the war, Mexico brought to power a new president promising wealth and jobs for the country as well as revenge against those who ravaged their nation’s resources. Now we have suffered their same loss.

//July 2nd, 2015 // //Los Angeles, CA – 9:30 am. // <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I woke to the sounds of gunfire and explosions all around me. I was on the laying on my back on a ground covered in rubble and broken glass. A cadet stood over me yelling at me except I couldn't make out what he was saying because my ears were throbbing due to the explosion that had thrown me on the ground. I got up and began looking for my helmet which had been blown off my head, but to be honest I was just waiting for my headache to dissipate. I found my helmet immediately, put it on and grabbed my gun off the ground. I aimed across the hood of the Humvee that was the only thing that had saved me from the shrapnel of the explosion. With my friend since we were kids, Neil Harris, we were both looking over the hood into the mist that covered Wilshire Blvd. “How did we get mixed up in this James?” “Well we were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I knew I shoulda taken that transfer to Honolulu.” Before Neil could respond a dark figure came out of the mist. It was large and bulky and had what appeared to be a highly sophisticated rifle in its hands. It was covered with a dull Grey metallic armor that covered it from head to toe. “Oh Shit. . .” said Neil and once again, before he could finish that sentence two more figures that looked just like the first one came from the mist behind the first one. The first figure that had appeared pulled up its weapon and aimed it in the direction of another Humvee that was next to ours trying to block the street. “RUN!!!!!” but as the soldiers that were taking cover behind that Humvee began to run the Humvee exploded into flames. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> Shots began to be fired in our direction by the two figures that had shown up later. “FIRE AT WILL!!!!” I yelled at the top of my exhausted lungs. “Get command on the horn and tell them we need an emergency evac.” I told our comm expert. We stood no chance against them. We were out gunned in this fight. Out of a platoon of about 18 people that grew to 26, because we had found another team that had been battered by a similar group of these big hunks of metal; now we had a group of 8 soldiers that were completely exhausted, but we had no choice. It was either take a stand or they'd take our lives. We tried to hold them back but with no effect on them we were forced to retreat. We fell back to an abandoned building and climbed to the roof. The chopper could be seen on the horizon slowly moving towards us. The large figures began shooting at the chopper. They responded with heavy artillery from the two V-22 Osprey's that were flying with the chopper. One of the large figures fell straight to the floor after a shot to the head with a .50 caliber bullet. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> The chopper slowly approached the building and landed. We all quickly got on the chopper and were finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. “Those Mexi's are tough, ain't they!” “What!” I replied to the pilot while straining to hear over the roar of the engine and the battle occurring beneath us. “Yea, I don't know where the Mexican's got that kind of equipment. It amazing technology!” I began to think about what he had said. The Mexican's? How could they obtain this kind of technology? At that moment I decided to not worry about it and take a break. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I slowly closed my eyes for a sec, next thing I knew Neil was shaking me by one shoulder saying “James, James. We made it to the base.” I opened my eyes and looked around the chopper and all the soldiers were getting off with a look of anguish on their faces. So I grabbed my stuff, slung it over my shoulder and got off the chopper.

<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">//<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Santa Monica Airport (Temporary Military Base) – 9:30 am // <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I looked around and all over the base were medical tents with people running in and out of them wearing scrubs covered in blood or other bodily fluids. I can't say that it looked like a MASH unit because that's just what it was, a MASH unit. I walked towards a hanger that had been turned into a resting quarters. On the way crossing the airstrip I bumped into several doctors and nurses that were running to another tent to attend more wounded Marines. Many ran with a face of confusion, not knowing what was going on. Others with a face of anguish and worry, due to the day's events. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> I reached the hanger and lay my things on one of the many bunks scattered throughout the hanger. I lay down on the stiff yet bearable bed and immediately a high ranked officer walked into the hanger, so I had to get up and salute. The officer held in his hand a paper, he immediately began to call names. I was among those called. We were all escorted by a group of armed soldiers to an improvised briefing room in the main part of the airport. There were tables lined up across the room horizontally, I went to the front table and sat in the center seat. “Ready to kick some ass, James?” Neil said as he sat down next to me. A commander walked into the room from a door on the left hand side of the room. We all stood and saluted. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> “Take a seat. We have a major invasion on our hands. The enemy has sophisticated technology that we have never faced before. Our Intel indicates that the attack is by our southern neighbor, Mexico.” with a face of anger he clicked a remote that turned on a project that had been wheeled in on a cart. “The attacks have been reported in all the major cities of the country. They have tremendous fire power and are very deadly.” “No shit.” Neil whispered to me. “You have all been chosen to carry out a mission in Mexico. Your mission is to hijack enemy aircrafts and weaponry, infiltrate enemy headquarters and eliminate the top brass. We have special equipment for you, so head over to the weapons hanger and we’ll show you your new equipment.”

<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">//<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Santa Monica Airport (Weapons Hanger) – 10:47 am // <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> We all stood staring at a sleek piece of metal. It was a dull metallic grey color with a slight shine to it. It had the shape of a human, but it was made out of a titanium-gold alloy. The head had a golden rod colored piece of bulletproof polyurethane-glass combo. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> “This is the Phoenix armor suit. This suit is the best technology we got. It has a built in targeting system and enhances your abilities 10 fold. Now you will use these on your mission. So get ready for a bumpy fucking ride.” <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> When he finished talking we all just stared in awe. The best piece of American Engineering was going to be in our hands. I found it incredible. “Sgt. Rodriguez, a word with you?” said a formal uniformed officer. He directed me back into the conference room we had been in earlier. I walked in and saw the men in charge of the operation in Southern California. “Sgt, please take a seat” while pointing to an open chair in front of them. I quickly saluted and took the seat. “Now Sgt, we have taken a look at your record which is quite outstanding by the way. By examining it we have come to the decision that we want you to lead this mission. I was shocked. I quickly accepted and left the room, because I always get a weird feeling when I’m around top brass personel.

<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">//<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">July 3<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: super;">rd, 2015 // <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">//<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Santa Monica, CA – Ocean Park Blvd. and Neilson Way // <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">//<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">12:05 am // <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> There were ships flying over the city bombing the parts where they found any military personnel. We hid quietly in an abandoned apartment complex. We had two in the main lobby, two on the roof and the rest waiting for the signal on the 4<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: super;">th floor. We had discovered that ships were constantly dropping troops off across Barnard Way at the park next to the beach. So we waited there in silence hearing the chaos occurring around us. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> Not long after we sought refuge in the building we spotted a ship that landed across the street at the park. “COME ON YOU APES! YOU WANT TO LIVE FOREVER!?” “NO SIR!” the team said in response. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> We quickly made our way across to the park blending in with the darkness of the night. We approached the ship cautiously and prepared for a firefight. As we came to the side that was facing the beach we saw two Mexican Air force Pilots sitting down on the grass and sharing a bottle of tequila. In the silence of the night we slit their throats and flew off into the night on the ship, but we didn’t make it that far. We were flying over San Isidro when two Mexican fighters flew next to us and commanded us to land. We didn’t comply. And so began the firefight.

<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">//<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Tijuana, Baja California – 1:26 am // <span style="background-color: transparent; color: #000000; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> “Hang on!” The pilot yelled over the comm system. And we followed his instructions, we held on. We could hear the machine guns and the missiles being fired by the jets. “BOOOM!” was heard as the ship began to nose dive. It took what felt like 45 minutes to reach the ground. I imagined the scared faces of my soldiers that were hidden behind the very reflective visor. Their lives probably flashed before their eyes just as mine did. I remember the face of my wife and my new born daughter and the feeling that I would never see them again. The impact was felt immediately and everything went black.


 * Sad Good-Bye**

It's too bad you feel you have to go.

 * Childhood Memories**

Neon Lights flicker morse code in the puddles of the rain Memories. . . we always said we would come here once again Lights create multiple reflections on the cobblestoned street Down the nearest alleyway return the echoes of our feet

The old corner cafe is creating wreaths of dispersing steam Colors shimmer from the car splashes in a surrealistic dream Warm summer breezes carry delicious odors through the air Down this street faded memories mark our first breath of fresh air