Ten Years

• Felix Faber, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2014

Felix Faber,

92 the Boulevarde Dulwich Hill

2203 Sydney

Year 9, Sydney Secondary College, Leichardt Campus


Ten Years


The Paxys had searched his apartment. As per usual they had left a note. They always did. After all, it would be discourteous not leave a note after breaching his basic human rights. Rich chuckled a little at that. Human rights. He picked up the note, slid it into the trash, and sat down on the stiff, stinking couch. Quite frankly, the floor was only slightly more filthy. He could only slightly remember the days, back when the floor was clean, before The Light-Bringing. Before The Paxys.


Humanity was barbarous, they said. After The Darkness, war and cruelty reigned supreme. But luckily humanity had The Paxys, to bring light, happiness and civilisation. Rich knew they shouldn’t have agreed, but it was so dark, and The Light so beautiful, and they had consented. Consented to… slavery, Rich supposed. To toil endlessly, but toil in the light. Jeanine had wanted war, blood. Revolution. Rich might have agreed, if he had been ten years younger. But he wasn’t young, and Jeanine had fought them alone. Rich didn’t cry. Crying was barbarous, and doing it would lead to at least death. Maybe worse.


It had been ten years since Jeanine had attempted revolution. Of course, the idea of time was barbaric to The Paxys, so all the calendars and watches had gone, but he had counted the days. He stood up from the couch, and walked over to the drawer. He opened the drawer and pulled out the pistol he’d been hiding for the last three months. He walked to the window. Outside there was Paxym, stopping pedestrians and asking them for their papers. Rich leveled his pistol at the Paxym. Rich noticed his hands shaking.


“I’m sorry” he said as he turned the gun around and held it against his head “I’m too tired for revolution”


Nobody heard the bang. Or nobody cared. It didn’t make much difference