New London. A place of opportunity. A place for the future. A place of fierce oppression. I grew up just like every other child in New London. We’re raised by parents that were raised just as us. We’re given predetermined jobs. Twenty thousand dollars is then given to the children when they reach seventeen as birth money. From there, they do their job. They’re given a wife at age thirty. And the circuit is repeated. Just as it has been for the last seven hundred years. Complete stability. Nothing differs.
The motto of New London comes to mind when anyone starts to question the society: ‘Trust in the Great Megaton, for the sake of society’ I’m walking home from my job as a newspaper article writer. I’m bringing home eggs, bread and milk. Another Friday. My wife Ashley is cooking her neighbourhood award winning casserole. My children are playing with their toy trucks and probably fighting over who gets to play with the big yellow cement truck. I smile as I reach the pavement leading to my front door and pull out my keys.
But the door is open. Why is it open? Twenty years of buying eggs, bread and milk. Twenty years of entering my key into the door. I drop my keys, slightly pushing open the door and I’m greeted by the solemn face of my wife. “Doll, what’s wrong? ” | ask as a hand pulls the door open more. Behind her is a man brandishing the crest of New London on his shoulder. “Mr Booth,” The man spoke courteously “Please, come in. Will you sit down? ” A slight clicking noise makes my eyes point downwards where l eye a stainless steel pistol. The man and my wife move out of the way and the man gestures towards the couch where my children are sitting. What’s this about? ” I ask while fondling my son’s head.
The man cleared his throat and pulled a newspaper from out of his jacket. Straightening the recycled paper, he started to speak. “What the New London Government is hiding from us. ” “If this is about that article, I-” The man poked his pistol into my wife’s stomach, causing her to yelp. “They’re keeping us in the dark… ” The man stopped and stifled a laugh “Do you actually think that this type of writing is permitted in New London? ” “| was told that as long as there wasn’t any clear evidence that it would be alright.
I tried to keep calm, but there was a constant twitch of fear on my face “It sells paper doesn’t it? More money for the government. ” “Lord Trivel found it displeasing… Quite displeasing. And you do know what happens when you provoke New London’s government. ” “But, 1-” | was halfway through standing up when the man lifted his pistol to my wife’s head. “Unit! Enter the structure and retrieve the man. ” Four men rushed into the room and grabbed me while starting to drag me out of my home. One of them pulled out a syringe and stabbed it into my thigh.
So, I was lifeless while I watched the courteous man point his gun towards my children. “What the New London Government is hiding from us”The pistol flashes and forces a bullet into my crying son’s forehead. “They’re keeping us in the dark”My son and daughter with blood leaking from their heads. “Through their countless amounts of propaganda,”My wife crying at their still warm corpses. “Tangles of red tape spanning throughout the whole city,”And myself. Being dragged out of my home while watching them put a bullet in my wife’s head.
“And meaningless jobs that keep us from asking questions. Then it all disappears. I wake up in a concrete box in a place that no one has ever heard of. A single bed and stainless steel toilet and sink are the only things that belong to me. For three days, I was given three meals a day and nothing else. After breakfast, two men with the crest of New London on their shoulders drag me into a room with a simple electric chair in the middle. They gag me and stand upright at my side for what seemed to be a few hours. A greying, bearded man then entered the room with his hands behind his back. He was dressed in a purple robe with a hood that hung at his back.
I knew his face from the thousands of propaganda posters that could be found in the streets and buildings of New London. Lord Tidus Trevil. “You do know why this is happening don’t you? ” He spoke with a guttural and monotonous voice. “We simply cannot have the citizens of this fine city disagreeing with the way that we run things. I sincerely hope that you understand. ” He walked forward so that we were face to face with only a few centimetres separating us. “Seven hundred a bit years ago, there were two great forces. One called itself the Soviet Union. The other, the Allied Forces.
They summoned a force that they couldn’t control; the Great Megaton. Through their hatred for each other, the world was cleansed of humanity. However, some remained and New London was created. We cannot allow this to happen again. So… Through this complete control, comes stability. ” I laughed through the gag in my mouth. The lord looked at me and gestured to the men at my sides to remove the gag. “Don’t you see the irony? ” I shook my head and raised it to eye level with the controller of humanity “We don’t want to be controlled, hence the rebellious nature.
“But through absolute, complete control, we can achieve the stability of man kind. I don’t expect you to understand, you simply don’t see the big picture. ” I watched as Lord Trivel gestured to the men at my sides and started to leave the room. I was forced into the chair and gagged. Completely powerless to my destiny. Lord Trivel stopped at the door and turned his head slightly. “Many have tried and failed before you, Theodore Booth. Trust in the Great Megaton, for the sake of society. ” He left the room and I started to hear crackling behind me.
The electricity was building up and heating my back. I remembered my family. My wife. My children. My last moments. My solemn last moments were abruptly interrupted by an thunderous clash coming from the corridor outside the room and the electricity stopped building, I could hear explosions and bullets flying. Fists landing, men and women grunting in combat. Then there was silence. Steel boots on concrete started to get closer to my room and a middle aged woman with a scar on her neck entered the room. “Theodore Booth. ” She spoke with a smile,”Welcome to the revolution. “
