Warnings

• Kaira Dasgupta, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2022

If you are reading this, it means you have been chosen and are currently in room 101. And I am so sorry.

I’m warning you. Do not question it. Do what you’re told, answer the questions and move on with your life. Do not question it. Do not make the same mistake that I did.

I hadn’t even realized, I thought it was a normal – frankly quite boring – Tuesday when they approached me. In the room they had asked me 3 questions, I don’t even remember what they were, just that this whole situation was off-putting.
I made a decision that I will regret for the rest of my rapidly shortening life. I refused to answer. I didn’t realise they were government officials. If I had known –
No, I can’t dwell on it. But I’m writing this to warn you. Trust me. You do not want to go this far. There is a difference between rebellion and pure ignorance, do not cross that line.

They grabbed me. The first man was undeniably strong, maybe enhanced. A prick in my neck, a growing panic clawing through my body then…nothing. I’m not sure where I am or how long I’ve been here, almost as if they took out a chunk of memory without me knowing. Of course, deep down I’m not surprised. We’re constantly being told to obey the government, never question them, they run the comfortable society we live in. They can also ruin it.

You never believe something that bizarre until you experience it. You never realize how little control you have over your life. Of course I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’ll be long gone when you realize how dead serious I am. No joke, no punchline. Just the warning.

They will take you and they will be ruthless. They don’t care, to them I’m just another kid, rebelling over their suffocating regimen. Please, if you have any value on your life, answer the questions, please.

I can hear people walking outside the white room. I wonder how long I’ve got left. They’ve almost got me hoping that the time comes sooner. I am sick of the pure terror that has permanently settled in the pit of my stomach. It’s twisted, how blissfully unaware everyone is, living their lives with no idea just how little their understanding of the world is.
It’s almost laughable. I always thought that the government barely had any power. Maybe that’s why they chose me. Maybe they knew that I’d end up here, cold and alone, writing in an almost full notebook. With frozen fingers, numb feet, warning whoever reads this. Do not rebel, listen to what they say, live in blissful ignorance. Otherwise you will regret it.