Post by Cascadia on Oct 4, 2007 16:41:29 GMT -5
Chapter Six
Micheals's parent's pods were both gone, and we both smiled at each other, glancing around the street before hurrying into his residency, closing the door behind us. We rushed up the stairs, and closed his bedroom door as well.
"Let me see it," I told him, feeling impatient, my self-control failing me. He lifted his shirt, giving me a glimpse of skin and momentarily shifting my attention. I blinked, refocusing as he lowered the box, both of us kneeling on either side of it. It wasn't large, too big to fit in one of my hands, but beyond that...it was rather small to contain anything that important, I figured.
I glanced up at him, respecting the fact that is was his Uncle's box, he should open it. He seemed to read this in my eyes and nodded, reaching to open it. The lids were folded in a spiral design, each one overlapping the other. They came apart easily at his hands and we both leaned forward, peering inside. On top, was a thin square of white. My brow furrowed, and I tried to resist reaching in and examining it myself. I looked up again, hastily, and Micheal smiled a little.
"You look." I blinked, a little confused at his unexpected want to let me be involved in this and felt my lips stretch into a smile. I took the square, marveling at how light it was. I flipped it over, and realized it was folded. Unfolding the thing, it became a larger rectangle, the crease lines giving it many little squares. There were words on it, flawed script and slightly smudged. I scanned the words quickly, and held the thing down for him to see as well.
"It looks like a message," I spoke aloud and continued trying to decyfer the tiny scribbles. "Just without the computer," I added. Micheal nodded to himself, shifting the thing in my hands and turned it so the bottom was facing him.
"I can't read it," he admitted. "It's too messy." I took it back, holding it a little closer to my face and made out a few letters.
"I can read it," I told him, glad I'd spent hours of class time scanning other prohibited websites with strange fonts and sucking in the information instead of working on things like my self control and learning all the proper teachings. "But it'll take me a while," I added on, a little annoyed at myself for not being better at this. My eyes flickered to him, "What else is in the box ?" He grunted an agreement and scooted backwards a little, looking down into the thing. I went back to studying the white rectangle, and made out some of the first sentence.
"It's memory sticks, and this...thing." I glanced up, finishing the first sentence and getting the first word of the next. The thing he held was long and black, a thin cylinder shape. It had a pointy end, and the other was rounded. The middle was just a solid black, opaque, and the tip was silver. Not simusilver, almost white, only shiny.
"What is it ?" I asked dumbly, knowing he didn't know either, but unable to stop from blurting the question. He shrugged as I knew he would and held his finger to the point. He pulled his finger away, and we stared at a black dot there. "Did it pierce you ?" I worried, taking his hand and sweeping my finger over the tip of his, examining him for a wound. The black spot smudged, and I faltered. Glancing down at the white thing, I held it up beside his hand and compared the smudges.
"It makes words," I realized, and held my hand out for the thing. He handed it to me, and I put the tip down on the paper. I let go and it fell. Frowning, I held it upright again and repeated the process. "How do you turn it on ?" I wondered aloud and Micheal reached over, gripping the thing in his hand. He put the tip to the white and it ripped through, startling us both. Then he put it to the white more carefully, sweeping his hand across it, the black thing still gripped in his hand, and we both watched a line appear.
"No, you use it to make words." He concluded, and we stared at the things.
"Why would he get this and make words himself ? Why didn't he just type something out and save it to a holoimage ?" I asked, taking the white thing back as Micheal held onto the black thing. He shrugged, poking the tip of it again.
"Bic," he mused and I tilted my head questioning him. He held the thing forward, and engraved on the back was white letters, reading out BIC. "It's a Bic." He told me, laying it softly on the floor. I nodded, making a soft noise in response and went back to the white thing. "I'm gonna see what these memory sicks hold," he told me and I reach up, grabbing his arm before he rose.
"No, the thing says 'Read all before anything. In the box..' I can't read those words. '...things I'm leaving for,' and that's as far as I got," I said sheepishly. He dropped back down next to me, his face becoming serious.
"In the box, are." He pointed at the word. "That's an 'A' See ?" I tore my eyes from him, staring down at the words, nodding in agreement. Micheal sat down beside me, his hand closing over mind on the white thing. I leaned closer, holding it between us and we continued to try to read the words. "The next have to be memory sticks," he spoke softly beside my ear, using his other hand to underline the two words.
We sat for a while like that, relaxing more as time went on, and I soon forgot I was blushing, the colour fading even as his breath tickled my face. After we'd gotten half way through the message, we leaned back against his wall, and I against him, both of us ignoring the electric feeling tingling where our skin met, trying to focus on the writing and not each other. And the message was confusing enough, without that distraction. Finally we'd finished, having reread the thing so many times we almost had it memorized.
"Read all before anything. In the box are somethings I'm leaving for you, but be careful how you hook them up. Do not use them anywhere but your own residency, and never speak of them to your parents, or anyone else for that matter. I hope I got the change to explain, but if not then I probably won't ever get a chance to.
About thirty years ago, the world changed. We had changed a lot from the Oldie's ways of living, but things still weren't always working out for the best. An organization rose, from some of the large companies, and they began to take over the world. They called themselves the Holders, and their take over was swift, and mostly unnoticed.
No one bothered questioning anything, they just went on with their lives. Until finally the Holders decided all ways of the Oldies must be erased, and put the New World plan into action. They destroyed countless files, and even rewrote dictionaries, only including words they wanted us to know, thus Nichole's annoyance with her limited word selection.
I went along with it, anyone who didn't was killed. Or put away in a facility that you know now as Trist. The people in there are not damaged, they just know too much. Trist is a brainwashing facility, brainwashing meaning they teach you over and over until you believe what they're telling you is true. Brainwashing is where the Holders twist your mind to what they want you to think. It erases free will, and in the end you're just what they want you to be, thinking what they want you to think, acting how they want you to act.
You both need to pretend you don't know any of this, or else you'll end up in there and they will "Fix" your minds themselves.
The reason I'm leaving this for you both is because you're different than the general population. You think for yourselves, question things, even when all your lives you've been taught differently. You're not like everyone else, and that is a very good thing for the world. The Holders seem to think they rule the galaxy, and right now, they're right. They say power corrupts people, and obviously that's true.
I'm worried that if the Holder's aren't questioned, they'll grow bored and add more rules, take away more free will. Micheal, you like to skate ? They might decide to obliterate all memories of skating, and brainwash everyone to forget about it. It's only an example, but I think you get my point.
The Holders can do whatever they want. People will never question them, only follow whatever they say and believe it true and the right thing. It needs to stop. If the Holders aren't questioned, they will only get more powerful, and one day they might use that power in other ways, not helping the world, or even the people, but just because they can.
I honestly don't know what to tell you, but I didn't want the Oldie's ways completely disappearing forever. They had free minds, and some of the things they came up with were truly amazing. I've passed their creations onto you, because you'll see it as I did. Not wrong, not against your teachings, but with open minds, something very rare to the world now.
Never be like them. Never give yourselves over to the Holders, you're too special to be like them. You and very few others out there, you might save the world one day. From being completely brainwashed and turned into slaves of the Holders. Look for others like you. Be what you are, and never give up your minds."
His note brought a numb feeling over me, the silence pressing around me almost painfully. My first reaction was to crumple up the white thing, throw it away from me, turn my back and pretend I never read what was inscribed there, but his words struck me. If I did that, the Holders would win. I would have given my mind to them, by choosing to stay...Ignorant. I thought smugly, knowing they at least hadn't taken all my words from me. I blinked a few times, feeling disconnected from the world and slightly light headed. I leaned my head back, startled as it fell upon Micheal's chest and I tensed. He looked down at me, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Do you think everything they tell us is wrong ?" I whispered, unable to stop myself as I remembered my dream, the feeling of his lips engulfing my thoughts. Micheal stared at the white thing, closing his eyes briefly.
"I don't know," he admitted, and I understood a little. What was right ? What did they want us to think, and what should we think for ourselves ? The thoughts rushing around my head made me dizzy. I leaned my head back again, closing my eyes as well. Forget the proximity rule, I thought to myself as my head rose and fell with each breath he took. Being close to him made me comfortable, and now I didn't understand why the Holders were so set against contact.
"We have to keep pretending to be...ignorant." I said to him, the word leaving a foul taste in my mouth. He Mhmm'd me, his chest buzzing. I giggled, despite the seriousness of our situation. I felt him smile, his head tilting over to rest on mine.
I relaxed, glad that I had he'd shared this with me, and glad that I wasn't finding all this out by myself. It probably would have made me...Damn vocabulary. Made me...broken. Broken my mind. I decided, feeling Micheal's hand brush over my arm. I rose my own hand, letting his drop to my lap and traced the lines on his palm with my fingertips as I listened to his breathing.
"Micheal ?" He made the soft humming noise again, and I bit my lip, not really sure what I wanted to ask him. The feeling was new, and I didn't have the words strung together to explain it. I clicked my tongue, still chewing my lip softly and asked hastily, "When's your ageday ?" A little annoyed at myself for not knowing what I really wanted to say.
"A week," he replied and I felt my stomach tighten. I didn't get this feeling often, but I'd started noticing bad things usually followed when I did. I didn't like the thought of him turning 18, he'd offically be an adult then, and I would still be a teenager.
"Do you think it'll change you ?" I went on, and he shrugged slightly beneath me. I could tell he wanted to relax, and just enjoy this new...touching. But my curiosity was raging, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking him anymore.
The sound of a door opening and closing got our attention, and I turned my head to him as he did to me. The closeness brought my colour back, and I froze where I sat, images from my dream flooding my mind. My hand raised to his face, fingers brushing over his cheek softly, moving to the corners of his lips, and I inhaled sharply, licking my own. He stared into my eyes, and I knew his thoughts were on my dream as well. His face moved closer, and his breath mingled with mine, my heart thudding against my chest.
He closed his eyes, and mine slid shut involuntarily, but footsteps made me draw back. I scooted across the floor, folding the white thing quickly and sticking it back in the box, kicking it under his bed gently. He tossed the BIC under his bed as well, and we sat half a foot apart, our eyes on the door. It swung open a moment later, and I was still trying to catch my breath.
His mother smiled at us, and I wondered why she didn't question why we were just sitting on the floor, alone in his room, with the door closed. Ignorant, taught to not question...my mind told me, and I felt sorry for the woman.
"Hello Micheal, I didn't know Nichole was visiting," she smiled at me warmly. I managed a small smile, before I took a breath and put my being into making it look real. "Are you two hungry ?" She asked in the bouncy, ignorant voice. My smile felt more genuine now, as I realized I still hadn't eaten.
"Actually, yes," I admitted, shooting an apologetic face at Micheal. He constantly nagged me about my forgetting to eat. He scowled at me with his eyes as he held the smile there, and we both pushed ourselves to our feet. As we neared the doorway, we were allowed to walk closer before we walked through.
His hand caught mine behind his mother's back, a finger tracing over my wrist softly. I shivered, glancing at him from the corner of my eye, and reveled in the real smile he now wore, his left cheek baring a dimple that wasn't there when he forced a smile at his mother. I blinked at him twice, feeling a giddiness rise in me as well, and bit my lip gently before leaving his bedroom, our box still hidden beneath his bed.
Micheals's parent's pods were both gone, and we both smiled at each other, glancing around the street before hurrying into his residency, closing the door behind us. We rushed up the stairs, and closed his bedroom door as well.
"Let me see it," I told him, feeling impatient, my self-control failing me. He lifted his shirt, giving me a glimpse of skin and momentarily shifting my attention. I blinked, refocusing as he lowered the box, both of us kneeling on either side of it. It wasn't large, too big to fit in one of my hands, but beyond that...it was rather small to contain anything that important, I figured.
I glanced up at him, respecting the fact that is was his Uncle's box, he should open it. He seemed to read this in my eyes and nodded, reaching to open it. The lids were folded in a spiral design, each one overlapping the other. They came apart easily at his hands and we both leaned forward, peering inside. On top, was a thin square of white. My brow furrowed, and I tried to resist reaching in and examining it myself. I looked up again, hastily, and Micheal smiled a little.
"You look." I blinked, a little confused at his unexpected want to let me be involved in this and felt my lips stretch into a smile. I took the square, marveling at how light it was. I flipped it over, and realized it was folded. Unfolding the thing, it became a larger rectangle, the crease lines giving it many little squares. There were words on it, flawed script and slightly smudged. I scanned the words quickly, and held the thing down for him to see as well.
"It looks like a message," I spoke aloud and continued trying to decyfer the tiny scribbles. "Just without the computer," I added. Micheal nodded to himself, shifting the thing in my hands and turned it so the bottom was facing him.
"I can't read it," he admitted. "It's too messy." I took it back, holding it a little closer to my face and made out a few letters.
"I can read it," I told him, glad I'd spent hours of class time scanning other prohibited websites with strange fonts and sucking in the information instead of working on things like my self control and learning all the proper teachings. "But it'll take me a while," I added on, a little annoyed at myself for not being better at this. My eyes flickered to him, "What else is in the box ?" He grunted an agreement and scooted backwards a little, looking down into the thing. I went back to studying the white rectangle, and made out some of the first sentence.
"It's memory sticks, and this...thing." I glanced up, finishing the first sentence and getting the first word of the next. The thing he held was long and black, a thin cylinder shape. It had a pointy end, and the other was rounded. The middle was just a solid black, opaque, and the tip was silver. Not simusilver, almost white, only shiny.
"What is it ?" I asked dumbly, knowing he didn't know either, but unable to stop from blurting the question. He shrugged as I knew he would and held his finger to the point. He pulled his finger away, and we stared at a black dot there. "Did it pierce you ?" I worried, taking his hand and sweeping my finger over the tip of his, examining him for a wound. The black spot smudged, and I faltered. Glancing down at the white thing, I held it up beside his hand and compared the smudges.
"It makes words," I realized, and held my hand out for the thing. He handed it to me, and I put the tip down on the paper. I let go and it fell. Frowning, I held it upright again and repeated the process. "How do you turn it on ?" I wondered aloud and Micheal reached over, gripping the thing in his hand. He put the tip to the white and it ripped through, startling us both. Then he put it to the white more carefully, sweeping his hand across it, the black thing still gripped in his hand, and we both watched a line appear.
"No, you use it to make words." He concluded, and we stared at the things.
"Why would he get this and make words himself ? Why didn't he just type something out and save it to a holoimage ?" I asked, taking the white thing back as Micheal held onto the black thing. He shrugged, poking the tip of it again.
"Bic," he mused and I tilted my head questioning him. He held the thing forward, and engraved on the back was white letters, reading out BIC. "It's a Bic." He told me, laying it softly on the floor. I nodded, making a soft noise in response and went back to the white thing. "I'm gonna see what these memory sicks hold," he told me and I reach up, grabbing his arm before he rose.
"No, the thing says 'Read all before anything. In the box..' I can't read those words. '...things I'm leaving for,' and that's as far as I got," I said sheepishly. He dropped back down next to me, his face becoming serious.
"In the box, are." He pointed at the word. "That's an 'A' See ?" I tore my eyes from him, staring down at the words, nodding in agreement. Micheal sat down beside me, his hand closing over mind on the white thing. I leaned closer, holding it between us and we continued to try to read the words. "The next have to be memory sticks," he spoke softly beside my ear, using his other hand to underline the two words.
We sat for a while like that, relaxing more as time went on, and I soon forgot I was blushing, the colour fading even as his breath tickled my face. After we'd gotten half way through the message, we leaned back against his wall, and I against him, both of us ignoring the electric feeling tingling where our skin met, trying to focus on the writing and not each other. And the message was confusing enough, without that distraction. Finally we'd finished, having reread the thing so many times we almost had it memorized.
"Read all before anything. In the box are somethings I'm leaving for you, but be careful how you hook them up. Do not use them anywhere but your own residency, and never speak of them to your parents, or anyone else for that matter. I hope I got the change to explain, but if not then I probably won't ever get a chance to.
About thirty years ago, the world changed. We had changed a lot from the Oldie's ways of living, but things still weren't always working out for the best. An organization rose, from some of the large companies, and they began to take over the world. They called themselves the Holders, and their take over was swift, and mostly unnoticed.
No one bothered questioning anything, they just went on with their lives. Until finally the Holders decided all ways of the Oldies must be erased, and put the New World plan into action. They destroyed countless files, and even rewrote dictionaries, only including words they wanted us to know, thus Nichole's annoyance with her limited word selection.
I went along with it, anyone who didn't was killed. Or put away in a facility that you know now as Trist. The people in there are not damaged, they just know too much. Trist is a brainwashing facility, brainwashing meaning they teach you over and over until you believe what they're telling you is true. Brainwashing is where the Holders twist your mind to what they want you to think. It erases free will, and in the end you're just what they want you to be, thinking what they want you to think, acting how they want you to act.
You both need to pretend you don't know any of this, or else you'll end up in there and they will "Fix" your minds themselves.
The reason I'm leaving this for you both is because you're different than the general population. You think for yourselves, question things, even when all your lives you've been taught differently. You're not like everyone else, and that is a very good thing for the world. The Holders seem to think they rule the galaxy, and right now, they're right. They say power corrupts people, and obviously that's true.
I'm worried that if the Holder's aren't questioned, they'll grow bored and add more rules, take away more free will. Micheal, you like to skate ? They might decide to obliterate all memories of skating, and brainwash everyone to forget about it. It's only an example, but I think you get my point.
The Holders can do whatever they want. People will never question them, only follow whatever they say and believe it true and the right thing. It needs to stop. If the Holders aren't questioned, they will only get more powerful, and one day they might use that power in other ways, not helping the world, or even the people, but just because they can.
I honestly don't know what to tell you, but I didn't want the Oldie's ways completely disappearing forever. They had free minds, and some of the things they came up with were truly amazing. I've passed their creations onto you, because you'll see it as I did. Not wrong, not against your teachings, but with open minds, something very rare to the world now.
Never be like them. Never give yourselves over to the Holders, you're too special to be like them. You and very few others out there, you might save the world one day. From being completely brainwashed and turned into slaves of the Holders. Look for others like you. Be what you are, and never give up your minds."
His note brought a numb feeling over me, the silence pressing around me almost painfully. My first reaction was to crumple up the white thing, throw it away from me, turn my back and pretend I never read what was inscribed there, but his words struck me. If I did that, the Holders would win. I would have given my mind to them, by choosing to stay...Ignorant. I thought smugly, knowing they at least hadn't taken all my words from me. I blinked a few times, feeling disconnected from the world and slightly light headed. I leaned my head back, startled as it fell upon Micheal's chest and I tensed. He looked down at me, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Do you think everything they tell us is wrong ?" I whispered, unable to stop myself as I remembered my dream, the feeling of his lips engulfing my thoughts. Micheal stared at the white thing, closing his eyes briefly.
"I don't know," he admitted, and I understood a little. What was right ? What did they want us to think, and what should we think for ourselves ? The thoughts rushing around my head made me dizzy. I leaned my head back again, closing my eyes as well. Forget the proximity rule, I thought to myself as my head rose and fell with each breath he took. Being close to him made me comfortable, and now I didn't understand why the Holders were so set against contact.
"We have to keep pretending to be...ignorant." I said to him, the word leaving a foul taste in my mouth. He Mhmm'd me, his chest buzzing. I giggled, despite the seriousness of our situation. I felt him smile, his head tilting over to rest on mine.
I relaxed, glad that I had he'd shared this with me, and glad that I wasn't finding all this out by myself. It probably would have made me...Damn vocabulary. Made me...broken. Broken my mind. I decided, feeling Micheal's hand brush over my arm. I rose my own hand, letting his drop to my lap and traced the lines on his palm with my fingertips as I listened to his breathing.
"Micheal ?" He made the soft humming noise again, and I bit my lip, not really sure what I wanted to ask him. The feeling was new, and I didn't have the words strung together to explain it. I clicked my tongue, still chewing my lip softly and asked hastily, "When's your ageday ?" A little annoyed at myself for not knowing what I really wanted to say.
"A week," he replied and I felt my stomach tighten. I didn't get this feeling often, but I'd started noticing bad things usually followed when I did. I didn't like the thought of him turning 18, he'd offically be an adult then, and I would still be a teenager.
"Do you think it'll change you ?" I went on, and he shrugged slightly beneath me. I could tell he wanted to relax, and just enjoy this new...touching. But my curiosity was raging, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking him anymore.
The sound of a door opening and closing got our attention, and I turned my head to him as he did to me. The closeness brought my colour back, and I froze where I sat, images from my dream flooding my mind. My hand raised to his face, fingers brushing over his cheek softly, moving to the corners of his lips, and I inhaled sharply, licking my own. He stared into my eyes, and I knew his thoughts were on my dream as well. His face moved closer, and his breath mingled with mine, my heart thudding against my chest.
He closed his eyes, and mine slid shut involuntarily, but footsteps made me draw back. I scooted across the floor, folding the white thing quickly and sticking it back in the box, kicking it under his bed gently. He tossed the BIC under his bed as well, and we sat half a foot apart, our eyes on the door. It swung open a moment later, and I was still trying to catch my breath.
His mother smiled at us, and I wondered why she didn't question why we were just sitting on the floor, alone in his room, with the door closed. Ignorant, taught to not question...my mind told me, and I felt sorry for the woman.
"Hello Micheal, I didn't know Nichole was visiting," she smiled at me warmly. I managed a small smile, before I took a breath and put my being into making it look real. "Are you two hungry ?" She asked in the bouncy, ignorant voice. My smile felt more genuine now, as I realized I still hadn't eaten.
"Actually, yes," I admitted, shooting an apologetic face at Micheal. He constantly nagged me about my forgetting to eat. He scowled at me with his eyes as he held the smile there, and we both pushed ourselves to our feet. As we neared the doorway, we were allowed to walk closer before we walked through.
His hand caught mine behind his mother's back, a finger tracing over my wrist softly. I shivered, glancing at him from the corner of my eye, and reveled in the real smile he now wore, his left cheek baring a dimple that wasn't there when he forced a smile at his mother. I blinked at him twice, feeling a giddiness rise in me as well, and bit my lip gently before leaving his bedroom, our box still hidden beneath his bed.