Chasing Imagination

Amy

I was about to speak, but when I looked up I saw Linzy taking a thick, black pen from her drawer and sitting on the bed, tilting her head to get a good angle to write at. Instead, I remained silent, not wanting to disturb the thought processes of a poet.

I was surprised there was even space to write on her wall anymore, but she seemed to be writing over scribbles and patterns so as not to cover up any of her brainwaves. When she finished, two lines of small, black writing, one of the neater sections, were added to the masses.

‘Poetry?’ I asked, not really needing to say any more.

‘Kind of,’ she replied. ‘I was reading the report of what you guys did last night, and of course it got me thinking—like most things do. It’s not one of my better pieces though.’

‘I wish I could write things like you do,’ I mused. ‘It’s incredible. It’s so...’ I struggled to find the right words, ‘beautiful...thought-provoking...I don’t know.’

She smiled, her perfect white teeth glinting between her dark lips. ‘Thanks. It ain’t that great though, not when you compare it to some of the old stuff—the true stuff.’

‘Like what?’

She scanned her wall with her eyes, glancing around for a quote she deemed appropriate.
‘Take this for example: There are a thousand hacking at the branches of evil to one who is striking at the roots.—Henry David Thoreau.’

‘That’s...’ I began. ‘I don’t understand it.’

Linzy laughed, but in a friendly way; not being patronising. She knew that there was so much I had to learn about the dark and insane world of imagination.

‘Take the government and the Dreamers for example,’ she said. ‘So many of us try and irritate the government—slowly cut them down, bring down tiny sections at a time. But so few of us actually target the root of the evil and destroy it once and for all, which we should.’

I seemed to be having this conversation for the second time today. ‘I agree—well, I believe that if you want something, you should fight for it.’

Linzy nodded. ‘Good philosophy. You’re impressive—for a newbie anyway.’

I took this as a compliment, and smiled appreciatively.

‘So, you think the government is evil?’ I asked.

‘Yeah,’ she said simply, her tone abrupt, as though daring anyone to think differently. ‘They’re denying us our freedom. That’s evil.’

‘But are they really?’ I asked, and I could feel the atmosphere in the room intensify. ‘Surely no one person is either good or evil; everyone has it within them. Just because someone believes differently from you—believes that imagination should be banned, or perhaps that it should be brought back, does that make them evil? The government would call you; would call me now too; a terrorist. But do you think we’re terrorists, or are we all just freedom fighters?’

Silence hung in the air. I could tell even Linzy was impressed. I was impressed with myself; I’d never believed I could be such a deep and meaningful person.

‘Like I say,’ Linzy eventually murmured. ‘You’re impressive, especially for a newbie. But no, I do believe they’re evil. They took away our freedom, and they’re slowly but surely condemning Dreamers to months of torture and, in many cases, fates far, far worse than death. Do you believe it’s right to kill Amy, ever? Even to save a life?’

‘No,’ I said automatically, but then I began to think about it. That was what being a Dreamer was all about. Thinking, being open-minded, seeing the bigger picture. And I had to get used to that.

‘I don’t know,’ I said, changing my mind. ‘Maybe. To save a life? I’m not sure.’

‘That’s my point,’ Linzy murmured, turning away and writing something else onto her wall. I closed my eyes briefly, thinking about everything she had just said. Would I kill, ever? Were the government truly, undeniably evil, or were they actually no worse than us? We broke things, we bombed things, the Dreamers had killed before. And what did she mean when she spoke about ‘months of torture’ and ‘fates far, far worse than death’? Was this more of the stuff I didn’t know?

‘What do you mean, Linzy?’ I eventually asked when I realised she wasn’t going to continue the discussion of her own accord. ‘What were the months of torture, and the fates worse than death?’

She looked at me, her dark eyes glinting with the dim light, and a flash of torment crossing them.

‘What has Casper told you?’

I shrugged. ‘Not much. I heard a brief story from Matt about the Institution—he said it was hell, and I’ve been told little bits, but never very much.’

‘Well, the Institutions, as you may have guessed, are the ‘months of torture,’’ she said. ‘I haven’t been in, but loads of people have. They hurt you, they electrocute you, they inject you and drug you so you forget everything--even your own name and turn into little more than a zombie—it’s sick!’

I shuddered at the idea. ‘That’s...horrible. And all just for being a Dreamer?’

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘It don’t matter what you’ve done; if they think you’re a Dreamer, you’re in there, six months minimum.’

‘And they hurt you?’ I asked, unable to get my head around this new, sick part of our world I’d never heard of before.

‘They love it,’ she said. ‘Anything to break us. And once you’ve used up two chances in the Institution, you’re in for the Operation. And that’s the end of it all.’

‘The Operation?’ I asked. I felt I’d heard the word before—on the news, most likely. Was this the ‘fate far, far worse than death?’

‘You must have heard of that,’ she sighed. ‘The Operation is when they remove the part of a person’s brain that enables them to imagine. It becomes physically impossible for the person to have an imagination. They can understand, and they can remember, but they can’t imagine.’

‘That’s...disgusting!’ I cried in outrage. ‘It’s sick!’

‘That’s not the worst part,’ she said grimly. ‘It’s not just that you can’t make up stories; removing that much of the brain disables any opinions whatsoever. The person becomes a zombie. They can’t decide what to wear in the morning; what to have for breakfast; what time to get up and go to bed. They’re not much better than the walking dead, and they’re never seen again.’

She pretty much spat the last word, and I just froze, staring, eyes wide with horror. How could they? This government was sicker than I ever could have dreamt. Casper was right when he said I didn’t know anything about the real world we lived in.

They said it was utopia. It most certainly was not. This was more like hell—a dark dystopian society, full of secrets and corruption and propaganda. Perhaps the Dreamers really were the only truth left in this world. All this stuff about the Institution and the Operation--I'd never even heard about it. How many more secrets were the government suppressing?

And that brought me full circle back to the idea of evil. Were they really pure evil? Was there even such thing?

How could evil have risen right around the world, yet no one had even noticed? How could governments have come into power in every single country, proposing these dreadful new ideas, and few had even protested?

The answer lay within propaganda and deception and so many other dreadful means.
I had learnt about it in history. The Hitler moustache that Jay had drawn on the government poster was actually the most accurate representation of them that I had ever come across. Led by President Cattermole in this country, but supported by a whole government of ignorant, close-minded bastards, we suffered under their oppression until someone took a stand.

The group; the Realists, as they had started off calling themselves, though having changed it on numerous occasions until they were just known as the Government or the Party, began in central Europe. Like I said, they were ignorant, close-minded people, afraid of imagination, and wanting to create a total dictatorship across the world. So the party grew—their propaganda was good, and after all the religious uprisings and the notorious World War Three, people were only too ready to agree.

And then, they plotted to take over. They formed political parties in every single country in the world, spending millions on their advertisements. It was a world of lies and corruption, but what did the ignorant people of the world know? The killings began; the violence started. Even before any of the sub-parties got into power, anyone openly opposing them was ‘dealt with’—they had spies everywhere; more than anyone could have dreamed of.

And as elections took place around the world at various times, some of them got into power. Germany, Poland, Russia and Slovakia were the first to fall under this new ruling—the party was originally founded in central Europe, but spread out fast from there. And then America and China went—the two great powers of the world.

From then on, the rest fell. Many believed that they should copy America and China, whose governments had taken their place through ill-gotten means—killings and threats and fear—but other countries felt they should follow. Some succumbed willingly. Others were forced into submission. Great riots broke out and many died through political unrest in many places—the British riots were terrible. Power would change hands at least once a day for several weeks, but then our last Prime Minister was killed by the secret police and a new dictator took over.

Once every country in the world had gone, there were two things the governments did first. First, they banned elections. They were now in power until they collapsed or someone else took them over by force—looking rather unlikely, as every power in the world was on the same side.

It was 2097. They spent the next three years planning how to get rid of imagination—planning how they would check for it, employing new police and workers to enforce the rules, building Institutions for anyone who officially resisted (within a year of the government bringing in their rules they knew of a terrorist group that had set up in many countries, but decided not to inform the public for fear of more people joining them), and taking into account every possible situation. Few people outside of the government even knew of the Dreamers, and far fewer still knew where to find them, but they were growing in size until their presence could be denied no more. Even then, though, governments tried to suppress them—us—and that brought us all the way back to today.

This world was so much worse than I could have ever imagined.