Sunday, August 30, 2009

A Personal Reflection On "Re-education"

If the Proscript Party had given me an education in something other than scrubbing floors in the beginning, then I would full understand the need for them to 'refresh' my mind.

But they didn't.

Yeah, they're good like that.

What I know about the world, the way I describe things, the words I use, the books I've read and my overwhelming sense of knowing that what's happening to me and my peers is not right, that's all me. I've gotten to where I am now, all by myself. I don't see my job as being anything to write about. Nor do I see it as any great achievement in my life, so before anyone starts going on about how helpful the party's been in that respect - just don't.

I clean up the Proscripts' messes after they've made them, safe in the knowledge that they wouldn't be alive if it weren't for my great grandfather. What a way to make a living. Wait. Stop Press. I don't make a living. If I were to be 'making a living,' I'd be paid a decent wage for what I'm doing. But I'm not. No surprises there. I've heard of places, far from here where justice and fairness are enforced by law. For all. Regardless of race, creed, colour...everyone is equal. I dream of those places at night.

We are a simple race, myself and my people. Our existence was simple and the dragons took that way from us. I'd like to say I'm angry at them for destroying our land, but it's not as if they had any control over what happened afterward. We didn't lust for power the same way the Proscripts did. We never have. We take what we're given because that's all we're likely to get now, and we have to do our best with what we have or we'll lose everything and more than that, we might lose each other.

Re-education is a joke.

I guess the reason I got out so easily is because I keep to myself. I don't talk much and just go to work each day, doing what I have to do and not asking any questions. It's all very robotic in nature, but I figure the less I stand out the better it'll be for me and my family. I don't want my parents to worry, especially. They feel guilty all the time for what I go through. I think they'd hoped that they'd have found a way out of this by now...but it's hard for them. They have to do what they can to stay safe and keep our family alive. I don't blame them.

They just sat me down and asked me a whole heap of questions. Sometimes they got angry. Sometimes they made threats. Threats against me, my mum, my dad...that sort of thing. I did what I usually do. Gave them the answers they wanted, nothing more. Nothing less. So I got out and got out alive and without any scars. No physical scars anyway.

The cries of the person in the next room probably won't leave me for a while.

Editor's Note: The writer asked that this story be published anonymously.

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