The Fate of Rockwell

The Fate of Rockwell

A Story by Shay33

Memo:

Tomorrow, the morning of November 26th, 2024, all residents of Arizona will become generation1. Shortly after the gas is released, the new commander of that area will read the new Code of Conduct over the town’s loudspeaker. No individual shall escape the message. If this occurs, this individual must be brought promptly to the emergency failed attempt facilities, and must inhale the gas immediately. If there are any inquiries, please address your commander or file a concern with NGP Headquarters.

 

Jim Stoner

New Generation Project Headquarters

Chief Executive Officer

 

 

            It was as if it had happened overnight. But how could a reformation this enormous happen in only a few hours?

            When I closed my book, blew out my candle, curled under my blanket and closed my eyes, my life was normal. I lived in a little house in Arizona with my mother and little brother, I went to school, I drove my mother’s minivan, and I was like your typical teenage girl.

            But when I woke up only a few hours later, everything had changed. The book I had been reading was missing from my nightstand. The candle I had lit was no longer there. I walked into the kitchen to find my mom and brother there, sitting on the couch, fully dressed. The T.V. wasn’t on, and they weren’t talking or even looking at each other. They were just staring blankly ahead. I sat down.

            “Mom?” I asked, placing my hand on her shoulder. She turned her head slowly, staring at me with grey eyes. I gasped; her eyes had never been grey. They had always been bright green. “Mom, are you okay?”

            “Oh, you’re awake. Now we can eat breakfast. Let us head into the kitchen. Charles? Would you join us?”

            My brother looked at my mother with clouded, grey eyes, nodding slowly.

I stood up and walked over to the open kitchen window. It was as if everything had been dulled. There was no emotion. Everyone just sulked around with nonchalant faces and spoke in monotone voices. It was terrible. I was afraid to even show my panic, fearing that it might frighten the bland souls that now filled the bodies of my old friends, family members and instructors.

So that is how I ended up here: being dragged into some kind of psychiatric ward by two burly guards in crisp, black uniforms. What had I done? I had cried in public. I was overwhelmed. Nobody was who they had been before. It was as if my whole world turned black and white. I didn’t understand it. I was confused and frustrated, and I started crying. Some little kid saw me through the window, and whispered to his mother,

            “That girl is crying.” It was only moments before I was being forced into a small police car and taken to this large, brick building that I had never seen before. I’d lived in Rockwell my entire life, and this building had never been there. I tried to think of what had been there before, but my mind couldn’t focus on anything. I had to know what was going on.

            In only a moment, I was being thrown into a hard wooden chair, bound by ropes, and an oxygen mask was being pulled over my face. I looked around the room frantically. There was another woman at the far end, but she seemed very calm, serene, as if she had been drugged. Conversely, I was contorting in fear and trying with all of my might to get out of the chair. But the heavy leather buckles held fast. I wasn’t going anywhere.

            A grayish colored gas began filling up the mask over my mouth and nose. Although I was terrified to inhale, I felt much calmer after I had. My eyelids became heavy, and my body seemed to go limp. I felt my mind go soft, thoughtless, as if I didn’t have a care in the world. Gone were the feelings of panic and anxiety that had overwhelmed me only moments before.

            A deep, soft voice began speaking into my ear.

            “You are not to publicly express emotion. You are not to publicly express your opinions, or argue the opinions of others, even in your own dwelling. You are not to make any actions that may potentially put your well-being or the well-being of others in jeopardy.” I felt the words seep into my softened brain, taking over every part of my mind. I felt myself submit to this power. More of the gas entered my lungs. I felt lightheaded, and my vision was clouded.

            “You are not to read any literature other than the pieces provided for you in your schooling unit. You are not to hold any personal beliefs outside of Catholicism. You are not to hold any romantic relationships other than that of your first and only spouse. You are to follow the Ten Commandments. You are to keep your dwelling immaculate. You are to care for your family.” On and on, the orders went. And on and on, I felt myself obeying. It was impossible to disagree.

            The man stopped speaking. I felt the mask disengage and lift off of my face. My eyes opened slowly. I noticed the absence of color from the world around me. I noticed the feeling of the air. It felt heavy.

            Another man came to escort me out of the building. It felt warm outside. There was no breeze. I saw people. The people were walking to and fro. They were going about their daily business. I found my way to my dwelling. My family was waiting there for me. We greeted one another. I felt at home. I felt at peace.

© 2010 Shay33


Author's Note

Shay33
New title? Also, I kind of wrote this on a quick wave of inspiration, so let me know if there are any inconsistencies... I'm sure there are. I'm also sure there'll be plenty of constructive critisism. So feel free to be honest. :)

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Reviews

Great story! In many ways, doesn't TV, computers and electronic games have a similar result as the gas in your story, they serve to desensitize us to what is going on around us, to not feel empathy for others who are getting hurt by the system. I like the way this is a metaphor for what is really going on. Very well done! I have no criticism. This is the beginning to a great novel I hope!

Posted 10 Years Ago



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Added on February 27, 2010
Last Updated on March 11, 2010
Tags: future, fantasy, propoganda, government

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Shay33
Shay33

MA



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Just love to write... and don't like sharing my writing with anyone I know in real life. Haha. I'm pretty open, accepting, opinionated yet open-minded, and pretty easy to get along with, if I say so m.. more..

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