Today is the day. The worst qualities have stirred deep within me. I felt the shivers; I shock with the force of them. Now they have awakened. Recklessness. Impatience. Anger. Frustration. Discontent. Yet again I succumb to my weaknesses. Once more I can't resist my craving. I have an addiction too strong to break, too powerful to control. Adrenaline. My loyal friend, my treacherous enemy. Ironic how similar are noble deeds to stupid escapades.
I do not know which I am about to undertake. Though, I am sure generations to come will call it what they will. Vita, a girl of just eighteen, is to send a message through time, a message of hope. I will send an everlasting reminder of the important truth- power is not power without people. A rule of oppression and injustice will always fail. There will always be those who have the courage to resist such regimes, this time it shall be me. Worryingly, it may only be me.
My plan is not to storm the government buildings and try to take them, (I hope that's obvious). Rather, I want to call the people together and to give them the choice, offer them an alternative if they want it. If the people rebel the government have no power. Power is held over people, to have power people must choose to follow you. If they resist your hold can not remain tight.
I have prepared a speech, purposefully hanging my success on the capability of my mind. With nothing more to rely on than my own self, my mind is the most powerful weapon I have in this battle. I hate violence that is the way of those I hate; therefore I must find a way to remove the government by removing their influence not killing their leaders. I feel that rather than more dirty bloodshed a cleansing process is my intention. I wish to educate the people so they can defend their rights and free them from the deception ramified by Lord Binnin and his associates. Once I have handled the common people, the honest and good people, I will face the real challenge. Before complete restoration can begin, we must pick out all corruption from the government. Since the government is the main course of our problems, it will require the most intensive cleansing.
It is bleak today. The streets are still silent but I know they will not remain so. Being out in the open like this feels odd after lurking down in the cave so long. I feel oddly exposed despite my clothes. If by some extraordinary chance I escape the police today, they will not recognize me. Probably, I will be captured and the effort will be in vain. Therefore, it is vital I can persuade quickly, I don't know how much time I will get to speech and it is unlikely I will be there to lead any rebellion I inspire. I must quickly fire the people and then leave them to make their own stand. I must be desperate, normally I am slow to trust yet this mission relies entirely on people recognizing their duty and carrying on whatever it is am going to start today. It is a scary thought, knowing that I am handing over my dreams and beliefs into the hands of strangers. Justice will be theirs to carry out. I shiver.
Too soon I reach the prison. I choose this spot as people just know what it stands for. I'm using what I can to get my message across with few words. There are words I may not get the chance to say, yet I must be sure to leave my audience in no doubt as to the next stage. They must realize that I am not merely giving them information but a decision that concerns them personally. The future is in their hands not mine.
If I remember rightly, there is some scaffolding on the back of the building. Hopefully I will be able to use it to climb up onto the roof. I am too weak to try to the walls themselves. I will speak from the rooftop, firstly to get more attention but I'm also hoping it might take the police a bit of time to get a helicopter out. That is the only way they're ever going to get me down. My speech I am going over in my head one last time. I have one chance: it must be perfect.
When I am stood on the roof it takes me a few seconds to collect my thoughts. I prepare the words in my head and take a deep breath. I walk slowly over to the edge, I feel powerful up here looking down. Maybe I really will be able to deliver my thoughts with some authority. This is not the first time I have been in this situation. It is similar to that first time I was here in that my decision has already been made. Now I have only to carry it through, easy when I remember there is no turning back. I don't care what they do to me, if I may be able to stop the suffering of thousands of others it is a small sacrifice. I shall speak with all the determination I feel so that the crowds can feel it as I do.
And then the words come. They gush out, all the opinions I'd held inside. These were things I'd been desperate to let free for so long, now I am releasing them to the world and they rush out my mouth. My words are too forceful to control, once my speech begins I cannot stop, I need not even think about the words, they are coming naturally. I suppose I have always been thinking these words, right from the beginning. Here today I am just vocalizing the thoughts that have been lingering in my mind for so long.
After expressing myself so openly, I have no more fear. I feel like a burden has left me, I want to sing. The people know the truth and judging by the cheers and applause I got, they totally agree. I am unburdened of many secrets; my case has been pleaded before the people. Now the decision is their own. I believe I have done enough. I don't care if I'm taken now, my duty is done. Nothing have I held back, I have given my all. More than any other in fact. I have become the protest movement. Those I once believed in have proved unqualified and unprepared for this mission. But I have ignited honest hearts; a movement that I know will press forward. With action, not ideas, have I sparked a revolution? By example and not by empty words have I become a leader? Yet I still have consequences to face. The next stage for me will not be pleasant. I hope only that my resolve survives whatever my enemies have in store. Then I hear the helicopter overhead. The time is here.
I put my hands up. I never intended to fight and it is now far too late to change my plan. The people stand before me; I must show them my strength in the face of our common enemy. If I show fear they will think I am a hypocrite. Rather, I must now set an example of bold, unyielding courage when brought before the government we are to resist.
"Do whatever you will, my choice is made. I am insignificant to your fate. Even if you take me, others will take my place. You cannot win. A war against your own people is futile; you have lost their hearts and minds." I shout this out hoping I am being monitored closely enough for them to hear. I want them to remember it when they go down.
I am in some secret government buildings. Obviously the authorities are fuming over my little spectacle yesterday. Perhaps it's made them feel rather insecure. It's not that I regret what I did earlier, it had to be done, but now the moment's passed and I my unyielding, defiance is fading. I am beginning to feel afraid. I am entirely at the mercy of those I know to be cruel and I can expect no mercy from their brutality.
The cuffs around my wrists dig into my skin, their cold seems to linger on my skin as they slide over it. They are firm and unbending, just like those who clamped them onto me. I admit I am rather enjoying the depth of their hatred towards me. If nothing else, I have made quite an impression. Yet I remember hatred is a powerful weapon. It is my own hatred for those who took my mother fuelled my protest. It is my hatred that hardens me even in this fearful situation. I hate them so much I will not allow them to intimidate me however loud their threats. Neither will I allow them to break me, however enthusiastically they carry them out. It would be impossible to have no dread when I think about what will happen to me, I just have the power to put these thoughts aside.
A stern woman rushes out of a door ahead of me. There are deep lines dug into her forehead and her mouth is pulled into an ugly scowl. Her stance indicates her power, I don't know her position but I know she is not one to mess with. The guards leading me seem to tense up as she approaches. Even her walk commands respect. Every aspect of this woman implies authority.
"We have a change of plan. This is the girl isn't it?"
"Yes ma'am." Both guards answer in unison. I am rather proud to be referred to as simply, 'the girl'. Am I really that special?"
The woman’s scowl deepens. “Obviously we were just going to execute her and forget this ever happened, she's after all just a common criminal." My stomach tightens, am I really prepared to die?
"Nevertheless, for some reason I can't begin to understand Dr. Gurion wants her for one of his experiments." That does not sound good. She instructs them to take me to a cell. At least I don't have to face this experiment straight away.
My cell is cold and dark. Worst of all it is empty. I am alone and without comfort. This will probably be my home until I die. When I am no more use to those I hate. It is a depressing realization. I have nothing to do in here obviously, so I've just got to sit around until this Dr. Gurion wants me. Scary when I think that there is no longer anything I can do for myself. I am at the disposal of everybody else. I hope for mercy. I know I shall be given none.
After an undistinguishable time period, a guard comes for me. Now I am afraid. I am so desperately fearful. I can't muster any of the strength I thought I'd found. I shake as I am led again through the building. I want to run but it would be a futile waste of energy. I am led into a brightly lit laboratory. I must not show my fear. I must not show my fear. I try to smile. It is the most harm I can do to my captors. It is the most trouble I can cause.
"I can take over from here," says a short man in a white lab coat. He pulls me into a chair; I can tell from his manner he hates me. I am glad.
"If you think you're lucky to be here, I'd think again. You'd have wished you'd got the execution by the time we're finished with you." I thought I was going to be sick.
Another man joins us, I know I ought to be more alarmed but for some reason his presence here is oddly comforting. I suddenly feel as if I am safe even though I know I am far from it. He is vaguely familiar; I think I recognize his eyes. Not just the way they look but also the way they feel on me. His stare is intense. It's as though he is about to murder me. Who knows, he might be. Noticing how fixed his stare is on me sends a shiver through me. I feel a lump in my stomach. Yet it is a pleasant sensation. I don't understand, surely I am acting this way out of fear. What pleasant emotions could I be feeling? When he begins to speak, his voice is far gentler than that of the first man. He speaks softly and his words somehow feel kinder.
"I am Dr. Gurion. You are lucky, you ought to be dead, but you are alive. Try not to outlive your use. You are also lucky because the experiment I have in mind for you, though by no means pleasant, is not as agonizing as what you may be anticipating. We will begin immediately. For some time I have been looking to make a drug that contains courage. When I heard about your antics, it struck me that you could be useful to me. You seem to have some courage, though the way you waste it is pitiful, and I could use you to investigate what gives people courage and strength. Your actions are stupid yet I have some admiration for your unusual resilience."
Was that a compliment? I am so confused. I can't make out what this man thinks of me though what puzzles me more is the fact I can't even make out what I think of him. He is one of them and for that I hate him. He is one of my enemies and if the time comes I shall spare him no more mercy than the rest. I don't know what it is. Maybe I just think he might be slightly better than the rest. He certainly seems a little kinder.This kind of thinking is ridiculous for I do not look for a friend in here. Even if there was a chance I could find one, I should not want to. I view everyone who will serve this government as mindless scum. I condemn them for all the suffering the government has caused. Although Binnin ordered it, they are the ones who carried it out. I will never forgive any member of this cruel system.
Dr. Gurion slaps me across the face, it sounded loud but surprisingly it didn't even hurt. I feel as if I've won a small victory. Then he pulls a syringe out of his coat pocket. He takes my hand into his. Again I shiver. Odd, I've never been scared of needles. I don't have a clue what he is injecting into me but I am not afraid. I seem to have a completely irrational trust in this man. What is going on with my head? I am so confused.
I'm also confused because it seems I'm not suffering as much as I should be. I'm beginning to forget Dr. Gurion is my enemy as he slides the needle into my wrist carefully. His touch is gentle and the prick is slight. In front of his colleagues he tries to look tough but when we are close together his voice loses its harsh edge and becomes gentle and reassuring. I hope things stay like this. It's also odd when I think about owing my life to this man I am still determined to hate. Maybe in some other world we'd have been friends. Or more.
If I wasn't so set on despising the very sight of this man, I think I'd consider him to be quite handsome. Although his face is so familiar, it must be the most beautiful face I have ever seen. It seems to be totally without defect. Not that it's easy to check when his eyes are so brilliantly distracting. Why is such a man wasted in this cruel world? He should be in a fairy tale, a wise and strong king, bringing justice and not pain. He is not. I must remember that. I am scared I will fall in love with my torturer. If this is some experiment, it's sick.
After my injection he calls in an assistant and says, “You requested charge of the prisoner for 10 minutes before she returns to her cell did you not?"
"Well she's all yours. Do to her as you please." Kindness gone. What was I thinking? The assistant beckons for me to get up. I try but I feel too giddy. Dr. Gurion snaps at me but in the end he pulls me up. When the assistant isn't looking he hands me a glass of water. Then he shouts at me to put it down. That was cruel. He then leaves me at the mercy of his friends.
They have none. Quite a crowd turned out for this; I must be important. It is amazing how much hatred these people can contain. But I am not intimidated by it; rather I harden as I face those who can hate me no more than I hate them in return. There is nothing they can do to me that I wouldn't do to them. I also stay firm because though I remember so little of Arios, I do remember the way his eyes seemed to penetrate my heart. If I do, by some miracle, find him, he will know if I have done him proud. He will search me, sensing every emotion I feel. Just as in my dreams he will not lift his eyes from me until he has examined me closely. And I have to pass the test. I fear that if he detects a trace of guilt or betrayal in me I will be cast aside. All I want, even now, is for him to kiss me again. For all my better dreams to come true.