Colour Blind

The Only Entry You'll Get

Dear Diary,

From a young age, I've been indoctrinated with thinking that our government were doing the right thing for society...

I remember when I was travelling through the city with my mother, and no one dared lift their head too high in the fear of losing the thing we called life. Everything was black and white (nothing has changed), it was like we were characters in an old tv show but the black and white view was contrasted on everything we saw or ate. The authority stood up high on podiums as if having a divine right from God. Police brutality was a daily occurrence, and we had no choice but to ignore it. "NO, NO PLEASE" they would cry as the officer would hit them again with the back of their gun for the fifth time. Just before the massacre would be noticed, they barricaded the scene with white, plastic screens so nothing could be seen, supporting the lies the government has told us. I walked past the attacking and my mother shielding my eyes as we stepped onto the train. I heard someone mutter "all they wanted was some bread" and I never realised how bad our society was until I was older.

Fast forward ten years and I've now been drafted into the police force, my mother said it was the right thing to do as we were both struggling for money and they had a hefty payout. I stood on my podium, finally feeling a sense of accomplishment in my life, I was proud to be above everyone. I knew everything... Every piece of information people would die for finding out; I had joined the other side with no means of turning back to my mother. She was everything to me when my father walked out, but I understand why he did. Being an officer is liberating! You could do anything without any consequences...

Today I had my first run-in with theft, and I was thrilled to help. I drove over and headed into the station; it was in the same place as when I got on the train all those years ago. I exhaled and walked over to the criminal. I towered over them, muscular and taller than them by a landslide. I pushed them against the wall and snatched their bag out of their hand, staring at the stolen goods: fruit, bread, and milk. I looked back at them, their pale face watching me in sheer horror. "P-please don't hurt me, m-my family- they're starving." I threw the bag aside and let go of them, I knew how they felt considering my life was not much different from a 1984 ideology. A fellow officer looked at me in disgust and barged past me and another commuter. Without warning, he began to beat them, the screens going up seconds after. I no longer felt divine, or anything like I did moments before this. With each blow to their face, the more I wanted to run away, the more I was sent back to my childhood. Fear pulsed through my veins as the liquid spurted from their arteries. My colleague got up and faced me, gave me an order and walked away. But I was frozen to my spot. I stared at the dead body; this is when I discovered the colour red.