No, the
world did not end. The world did not perish by some nuclear catastrophe. Aliens
never invaded to enslave us or to liberate us from ourselves. The world did not
run out of its natural resources. There were no chain reactions that sparked
world wide lootings. The world did not die. It kept spinning, thriving, striving
to some future that was just around the corner. No, the world did not end; it
became omnipotent.
Change started small. Little by little,
laws began to restrict basic rights. Freedom became regulated, freedom to bare
arms and of speech were sought as weapons against the nation. We were to be governed
under the watchful eye of the government as a mean to combat terrorist. To
keep us safe from future attacks that still caused fatal casualties. The media never
mentioned any objections towards the restrictions, they praised them. We were
to abide, no questions asked.
And why ask? Such an inquiry can and
will get you blacklisted. No one dare to question the authority, no one. If they
say jump, we say how high. We don’t ask, we just do as we are told. How is that
not the norm? Is it not the authority that keep us protected? Do they not keep
supply and demand in rotation? Without the government, how are we to remain
civilized? These were just a few questions I never cared to speak out loud or
get answered.
I did not care for much, nor needed
much or said much. I, like many before me, live a simple life in a simple home and
work a simple job. I have never met someone with less than me or more than me. We,
as a collective consciousness, have everything the other has. No one is
special, gifted or talented. We are one of the same, masters of all
trade. We wake, we work, we sleep. That is our cycle, our scheduled way of
life.
“Rise!” The sirens banged as the
clock tower struck six. Millions emerge from their beds, half dead asleep.
Hoards of bicyclists and motorists pollute the roads as they scurry to their
work stations. Everyone had a duty, everyone had a purpose. How else would one
expect to get by? At eight in the morning, everyone
had clocked in. Obediently, they sat in their cubical and did as they were
told.
Work kept everyone busy, occupied.
Management shepherded the assembly line. If anyone skipped a beat or slacked
off, they would know. Work prevented people from questioning. Work numbed us to
submission. If everyone is too busy working, no one would revolt. No one would
ask the right question or form a militia to overthrow the corrupted. We were too
entertained with work that we did not notice our freedom be stripped away,
little by little. Our only freedom was thinking we had it in the first place.
With taxes soaring, work was our only
savior from debt. Without work, the government would enlist you to their FEMMA camps. We are told the camps are for those unable to work but others tell a
different story. Others say the camps are unholy. The camps shelter the
undesirables, the criminals and the disable. Some say you are never heard from
again once you get enlisted. Torture doesn’t even begin to describe the kinds
of acts that have occurred within the camps. One would be so lucky never to fully
know.
Personally, I have never seen the
camps. I have only heard of stories and rumors but never witnessed the place
first hand. It is they though, the people who spread such a conspiracy, who are
never seen from again. No one question where they went or what caused them to
disappear in such a manner. No one file them as missing or ask their family or
inner circle of their whereabouts. No one really care to ask or wonder. We
simply do as we are told. You have to if you want to live. We wake, we work, we
sleep. Simple.
Simple gets you by. Being ordinary is
considered dangerous. Simple, on the other hand, lets you survive. You live
without fear, without a target on your back. You live without a constant
reminder that you are being watched. You get to make it to 60 and if you are
lucky maybe even more. If you strive for plain you get more out of life. Most aim
for simple because simple doesn’t raise suspicion.
The only way to get by in life is to
keep your head down, work, sleep and do as you are told. If you start to ask
why, if the thought just so much as crosses your mind for a split second, they will know. You will be reported and
you will be accommodated. That is the law that keep us loyal to one another.
We, as a collective consciousness, rely on every citizen to maintain the law
and keep order. Only enemies question the law.
That is why they are a threat to our
constitution. They seek to weaken our allegiance to our nation. To restrict
basic rights our founding fathers fought to establish. Because of them,
millions get deported. Hard working innocent laborers, an asset to our dollar,
burn out because we focus on targeting people instead. But you
will never hear me say that to anyone. Not even to myself.
Yes, our system is flawed. As an
active Law Enforcement agent, I do my best to not ask questions. No questions
that will get me blacklisted that is. Detaining people of interest is one thing
but people who simply came here for what little opportunities Merka has to
offer is another. Either way, I don’t ask nor care to. Only the criminals get
punished, the rest get lost in the system. That is how things go.
Detaining people feels more like a
chore than a duty. Normally, my squad detain about half a dozen people every three
hours. Today, we only caught about a hand full. Delta Unit took our detainees
to get searched and interrogated. Today’s litter were a textbook profile case,
undocumented workers. Most would find themselves back in their country, the
good ones would get passed around for a while. It wasn’t my job to know.
“You sitting alone again during
Orientation Hour, Wiccans?” I heard someone ask me while I changed. “You can
always join us at our table. It is not allowed but it is also not enforced.” I
politely declined hoping to fly under the radar. “Suit yourself comrade.” Kuh patted
me on the shoulder as he left. Alone, I changed back into my civilian uniform
and clocked out. I was greeted by the same people on my way out.
They never seem to show any sign of
life behind their eyes. They just stare at me with blank expressions and a dough-eyed
gaze. They are almost robotic in nature. They don’t think on their own. They
don’t act on their own. They are perfect in every way. They don’t ask questions
or do as they please. They strive to please others, to please the law. That is
all one lives for above all. There is a name for people like them, sheeple.
“Bye,” I called to the receptionist
as I made my way outside, “See you first thing in the morning.” She waved
instinctively with an almost forced smile. Her eyes read panic but her smile
read content. She held her blank expression until she was the last to leave. Everyone
wore the same almost forced smile with a slight of panic in their eyes. Most of
the time they seemed to be not all there.
I skipped Orientation Hour because they
preach nothing we already know. It is important to make an appearance every
week to stay low key. Today, I made an exception. I just wanted to be left
alone. To pour out all my thoughts into paper before I get them electrocuted
out of me. I wanted to not think for a second. To forget where I am and the
position we as a society have found ourselves in. I just wanted to be left
alone where things always seem to be right.
A knock brought me back to reality as
I lay flat on my bed. My one bedroom apartment was plain and simple. I did not
give my home life with color or murals. I simply hung the picture of me in my
uniform, a picture of my family and nothing else. It is what everyone does when
you live alone. I recycle paper, keep my home decent but above all I keep my
head down. On occasion, I would mingle with the neighbors but nothing special. No
one does anything special unless they are permitted to.
Kuh and his friends stood outside my
apartment, extending an invitation to Orientation. “As a friend, I wouldn’t
want people to get the wrong idea.” He began as I let them in. “People talk, it
is what we have to do. I heard someone down in Records speak ill of you.” Kuh
made his way around the living room, examining the books I have acquired. “But
I straightened things out. You don’t want to get blacklisted, especially in our
field of work.”
Regretfully, he was right. I had no
choice but to attend Orientation Hour. Fortunately for me, I had someone to
back me up. Once people start to talk about you, the government starts to
listen. The slightest suspicion of originality or look can get you in the
blacklist radar. Anything you do that seems out of the ordinary can make you a
target, a person of interest. There is no going back once you have been listed.
Kuh was friends with everyone. He
knew everything that went on behind closed doors because his grandfather nearly
became Merka’s 50th president. That kind of recognition will get you
a permanent seat with world leaders. A position his family have kept for
generations now. Kuh was never a politician, that was his brother. Kuh was more
of a jar head, a soldier. He enjoyed, craved, raiding places; anything to fire
and shoot. He was my backup.
“Some kid was planning on hacking every news station and proclaim some kind of brainwashing conspiracy during Orientation.”
Kuh stated once we made it to the gathering. Orientation Hour is where we are
told what to think. There, we are told who the enemy is and what we must do to
protect ourselves. They all end with handing your life over to the government.
“Heard he was going to execute this today. Which is why I wanted you here,
Wiccans.”
Thirty minutes in and still the screen
before us blabbered on about how weak we, the people, are without the
government. “The thing is almost done and nothing.” Kuh exhaled. “What a shame.
I was expecting some kind of exhilarating judgment. I don’t know, something
different. These conspiracies all sound the same to me.” Kuh turned to me once
we were alone, “I wanted you here because I wanted to tell you something.” His
proclamation startled me.
“I’m all ears brother.” I replied,
unsure of what to expect.
“The thing is,” Kuh hesitated, “I
can tell you bite your tongue in fear of raising suspicion.” He was right. “I
can tell it is easy for you to not ask questions because you know what happens
to people who ask questions. You may not have witnessed it yourself but you have
heard of such a thing.” Its almost as if he were reading my mind. “I can tell
this about you, Wiccans, because I myself struggle to speak up. How can anyone
speak up?”
I remained silent. I did not know if
he were leading me to a trap or to reassure me that I am not alone. “People
have spoken up, that is the thing Wiccans. People have been objecting since our
government began to regulate our rights. Only, they were never stopped. People
protested, people gathered and marched. They called their representatives, they
made inquiries. They signed petitions, people played by the book. They did
everything but prevent their officials from getting away with it.”
“We find ourselves in this
predicament because the people did everything but raid the capital.” Kuh
looked around to see if anyone was near. “Anyone who protested, who raised
awareness, who made inquiries were targeted. They were sought out and silenced.
They were sent to the FEMMA camps. I know because I read the files. When my
father’s father ran for president, we were given access to information kept
suppressed to the people.”
“The government is the terrorist.”
Kuh stated, “My family knew this and did nothing but what was instructed them
to do. We were told from the beginning if we went public no one would believe
us. No one would believe because there are people who are told to spread false accusations to discredit anything you might say against the government. They even gave us a
file of people who tried to go public before. They were all silenced.”
“Why share this with me?” I questioned,
puzzled.
“Because you are the only one I know who
can be numb to this kind of oppression.” Kuh answered. “They can tell you that
the president and his secret service raped and killed a little girl and you
would simply bat an eye. It’s not as easy for me to turn the other cheek. It
may be for you, but not for me. You are the only one I know who can still think for themselve but somehow go undetected.”
“How do you do it?” Kuh finished. “How
do you allow yourself to be governed in such a way that you can’t even think
for yourself?” I was interrupted before I could answer. Kuh was too stressed to
even fathom such a reality. “Things can not go on like this. We can not be governed
by restrictions, by terrorist. We can not be sleeping anymore, not when they
have holocaust the world. We must wake-up, we must take action.” I was afraid
he would say that.
Like clockwork, Law Enforcement
appeared out of thin air armed and loaded. Kuh protested his arrest as he ran throughout
the park. I was in no obligation to detain him for I was not clocked in. I,
like many before me, simply stopped and stared as we watched an enemy of the
state be brought to justice. “You are all damned!” Kuh shouted as he was struck
down. “You are all too late!”
As
loud as Kuh could shout, no one cared to listen. A swarm of agents silenced Kuh as they took him away. In broad daylight, we were told the truth. We were told to
give up for our cause was futile. They had won and we had to surrender. Kuh
struggled to free himself as he plead for help. He screamed, he yelled until
his lungs gave out. No one bothered to listen. No one bothered to care.
