Two-Hundred-Eighty-Six

This is a journal.
This journal is secret.
Journals are banned.
I am not supposed to write things that are not notes.
Thoughts are bad.
I cannot help having thoughts. I cannot say them. I must write them.
Please forgive me.
I write until I cannot any longer.


Day 1:
Today I woke up. The morning bells rang at the time they do every morning. I got up and went outside. I met my classmates. We walked to school. We said the pledge. I was asked to answer a question. I answered it correctly. My classmates clapped. We ate lunch. It was pizza. I sat with my friends. We went to math and science. I answered more questions. I got them right. Then we went home. I did my homework. I walked the dog. I went to bed. I wrote this in the dark. I am afraid. I do not know of what. Now I am going to sleep.

Day 2:
Today, the morning bells rang distantly. I woke up from a dream I no longer remember. I got dressed and left, meeting my classmates on the sidewalk. We walked to school together. When we got to school, we recited our pledge and took our seats in class. The first class was math class. The second was science. I answered questions correctly in both classes. Then, we went to lunch. We ate pizza. I sat with my friends while we ate. Then we went to classes again. Science and math were fun. I answered two questions right. Everyone clapped. Then I went home. At home, I did my homework, walked the dog, and went to bed. I am writing this in the dark again. I hope I remember my dream tomorrow.

Day 3:
Today, when the morning bells range, I woke up and put on my shirt and shorts. I wish I remembered what the dream I had was. Oh well. When I left, my classmates were waiting for me. We walked to school together. We went to homeroom, where we said the pledge and sat down. Classtime was spent learning about mathematical formulas and atoms. Then we ate lunch - which was pizza again. I sat with my friends. We then began lessons again - this time focusing on logarithms and balancing chemical equations. I went home with my classmates. We did our homework, walked our dogs, and went to bed. I’m writing this before falling asleep. I answered four questions and got them all correct. I will go to sleep now.

Day 4:
The bells above me, in the factory’s roof, chimed loudly, awakening myself from my sleep. My eyes opened, and I saw the Tarren Mother, a robot woman, walking the rows of my fellow classmates’ beds. My dog slept peacefully beside my bed as he always did. I sometimes thought it would neat for him to sleep with me, but that would be incredibly weird, and I’d probably get killed right on the spot for thinking about it. My neighbors and I got up simultaneously, and stood at the end of our respectful beds, putting on our matching, white, collared shirts and pleated shorts, with our tennis shoes. The Tarren Mother came to each of us, brushing our teeth and our hair for us. She slicked mine back the same way she did everyone else’s. I’d love to have side bangs, but I don’t think she’d do it. As she finished, we each kissed her, and turned to leave the room. Silently, we fell into an ordered single file and left the factory to the street. Our fellow classmates waited outside of their factories for us, in single file lines. We walked - one, two, one, two, left, right, left, right - all the way to the school in silence. The school is a block away from our factory. Every now and then, I think about messing up, but the whole damn step pattern is ingrained so deeply, it will never come undone. I think it’s a bit weird. But it’s how life works.

The school is a tall, grey building with no windows. Inside are dozens of classrooms, and we filed in, one by one, to fill in the rows of desks in the classrooms. Here, we stood until everyone was present, and we said our pledge:
We give our noses to the World we live in
So it may smell betrayal,
We give our eyes so it may see
And our ears so it may hear,
When we do not need to.
Speaking is for children.
One day, our voices too we will give.
Our lives will be our gift to the world.
This is our sacred pledge.
As we finished, each of us sat after our name was called.
Our classroom starts in the Two-hundreds.
I waited until they called Two Hundred Eighty Six, and I sat in my desk.

As always, class consisted of the teacher asking each of us a question that we did for homework. We are only allowed to answer one per lesson, and for each one we get right, the rest of the class claps and we get a checkmark next to our name. I don’t remember what my question was, but I got it right. I always get them right. Our teacher wrote all of his notes on the board, as he has given away his eyes, nose, and voice. We answered the questions so that he can hear them.

The lunch ladies came in for lunch, wearing their masks. I think that they must be highly revered, because they’ve given up their entire faces. Their masks are white, and have a permanent smile painted on them. Their eyes are also painted on, two round dots. I think they’re pretty cool.

They gave us our bowls of pizza - a green goo that had a mushy, chunky consistency. My friends, Two Hundred Eighty Seven and Two Hundred Eighty Five, sat with me in silence as we eat. We aren’t allowed to talk at school unless we’re answering our questions. They, as well as me, have given up their noses. It was recent enough that we all still wear the same patches over them.

Once we finished lunch, we went back to math and science classes, where we had to answer two more questions from the previous night’s homework. I got mine right. It felt good. It felt right. I have never gotten a question wrong.

We all silently filed out when the final bell rang, and walked home in the blackened air. I was glad my nose was gone. I do not need to breathe in the smog any longer. When we got home home, we did our homework - one question out of eight hundred for each class - which was the question we will answer tomorrow.

My dog still laid beside my bed. Its fur is a glossy black and white. I attached the red leash to its collar,l and the group of us left with our dogs. We walked them, petted them, fed them, and put them to bed in silence. After lights out, I pulled the journal out from under my mattress and wrote this.

I guess it’s time to try and sleep, now that I’ve finished.

Day 5:
Today was weird. I’m writing this briefly, because our ceremony starts soon.
I remembered my dream for the first time! It was me, in darkness and silence - until there was a sound, and it was beautiful. I don’t know the words to describe it. My body moved with it, and I ran out of breath.
Then I woke up, right before the morning bells.

Each of us was given a note when we got to school today, declaring what we were giving today. I am one of four people who answered every question right every day, so I am giving everything - my eyes, ears, and voice - today.
Maybe I will get a cool mask like the lunch ladies.
Or maybe I will get zippers and blindfolds like the teachers.

My future and home changes from here.
I’m a little afraid. It will all be different.
But, I will be alright. They say I will be, so it must be true.
I must burn the journal so they do not find it.
I do not know why, but I feel I must say goodbye.
Good bye, paper. Goodbye sight. Goodbye sound.
Wish me luck.