Really? I hadn’t noticed. Nor was I aware that I had been captured.
What I am aware of, however, is that you, yes, you, “The Resistance”, you are nothing but a bunch of traitors. Traitors to me, and traitors to your people.
Good job on hacking into my accounts, by the way. But “resistance” isn’t a very good password. Looks like it’s something different for my Twitter. Oh well. I’ve changed this one already, but I suppose it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?
You don’t wait to “free this land”. You just want it for yourselves. You aren’t doing this for your people. You’re doing it for yourselves. You betrayed me and everyone else. Now it’s my turn.
This is for everyone else.
When I went to where I met up with The Resistance last, they were already there. All of them. Holding a meeting.
Wearing gas masks.
They knew already. Not because they had found it like you did.
No, they caused it.
They had you bring AltumCorp down to make their transports vulnerable. Then they caused the accident last night. They intentionally released that dangerous chemical into the air, for their own purposes.
“Next we release this information to the public, stirring them into an outrage which we can harness for our Revolution.”
They severely injured a man and released a deadly poison into the air, all for their own gain. They call themselves “The Resistance”. They say their mission is “for the good of all”. But they’re a fraud. And then…
“You’re more valuable to us dead than alive.”
They planned on using me as “fuel for the fire”.
“The contacts you have built up over these months will be very valuable to us. With you gone, they will be converted to our cause in no time.”
At that point, I dashed out of the room as fast as I could, down the streets, and back home.
You’re just like them, you traitors. Just like those who oppress us today. And I’m done. I’m through with this. Goodbye.
It still hasn’t gone away. I’ve been feeling a bit dizzy and sick, as well. My memory isn’t very good today, either, and I keep forgetting things. My concentration is off also. And last night, I had another dream, but this time, instead of what usually happens, it was just a mass of colors, light, and explosions. I can’t remember much of it. What’s going on with me?
But it was from them. I met them again. They say time is running thin. That’s all I can tell you.
At night, when not asleep, I lie in bed and think. And wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. Staring up at the blank, white ceiling, all kinds of thoughts enter my head. Worst-case scenarios, mostly. But I’m not so afraid anymore. Now that I know I’m part of something bigger, something stronger, something more important than myself, I don’t worry as much. Even if something happens to me, there are others who will continue on from there. What I’m doing actually matters. There’s a real chance to make a difference. That’s what’s keeping me going.
I’m still having those dreams, by the way. And they’re getting stranger by the night.
Strolling down the sidewalk, I took note of my surroundings. Buildings lined the street on either side, constructed mostly out of grey concrete, although there were a few brick structures mixed in, adding a redish tinge to the otherwise monochromous setting. The street fell in line with the flavor of the place, or rather, lack of it. I could tell it used to be black, but constant abrasion from tires and shoes (actually, mostly shoes, since barely anyone actually owns a vehicle) had worn it down to a stone-like hue. The pathway on which I strode fit in perfectly with the urban theme, although its existence was generally pointless, as most people simply prefer to use the road for day-to-day travel.
Perched atop rooftop corners, security cameras peered down on the world below, their electronic eyes always vigilant, transmitting surveillance footage to some remote, faraway location. There seemed to be more of them than usual, dotting the scenery wherever I looked, giving me a feeling of being watched even stronger than before.
I kept going for a long while, and completely lost track of the time. By the time I realized it, the sky was getting dark, and I had to race to arrive back home on time before curfew. No one is allowed outside past a certain hour. When I finally reached my living quarters, I unlocked the door, pushed it open, and collapsed onto my bed. An instant later, I bolted right back out. There was something on my pillow.
A note.
Every time I have it, it keeps getting longer and longer. Now, I’m sitting in an all-white room, in a cross-legged position. I rise, and walk to one wall. Reaching out my hand, I touch it, and it lights up. A door appears before me, which I open, and walk through, into a long hallway lined with open doors, facing towards me, blocking me from seeing what’s inside. The door behind me vanishes, and as I walk along, each pair of doors slam shut and disappear before I can get far enough to look through. Finally, I reach the end, and descend a stairwell. At the bottom is a woman, clad in white robes. “Hello,” she greets me, and says my real name. “I have been waiting for you.” I nod, and somehow, I know what to do, without knowing why. I kneel, and there, on the floor, is a golden box. I open it, and peer in. Then, once again, I am awake.
I’m so confused.
Except, this time it was longer.
After the flash of white, instead of waking up, I was in a field of green. Grass was everywhere, with the wind blowing gently and whipping up the blades. As I stood there, a mist started to form, surrounding me on all sides. Eventually it turned into a thick fog. Then I saw the silhouette of a man in the distance, slowly approaching me. I watched as he got closer and closer, unable to move a muscle. Finally, he was right in front of me, but I still couldn’t tell what he looked like. I felt a cold breath upon my face. Suddenly, the scene began to drip and melt away. I don’t know how to describe it, other than that. Everything was washed away, until there was nothing left but the silhouette, close enough to touch, at least, if I could. Then there was a crack, like he was made of glass. It spread like a spider weaving a web, until his entire form was covered. It shattered, sending a million pieces flying straight for my face, with me frozen in place, unable to flee, unable to get away, unable to shield myself, and then…
That was it. I was in bed again. I wonder… What does it mean?
Which is strange, since I don’t usually have dreams. At least, not ones I remember, anyway. But what I dreamt was even more odd.
I was floating in some kind of huge expanse of blackness. Then, one by one, little lights appeared, hovering somewhere below me. Everything began to spin. There was a flash of white. And then I woke up.
I don’t know why I’m telling you this. But, then again, why not?
