A Song of Silence

Chapter 5

Astrid

The house is quiet. Too quiet. My parents retreated back to their own rooms when the broadcast finished, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

The floor below me is a cool stone, a clouded white one that swirls in patterns that appear to rise and fall, like the gentle breaths of someone calm or the waves that wash away at the sand, lapping against the shore in cadences where each comes right after the last. Like us. Like we do. They move, we are expected to follow exactly behind, in perfect lines that do not break and that are as even as perfect. We all constitute the world, like how each gear is an important part to the full picture, and we turn together to make the machine run. Without us, the Imperium cannot properly function. And in the same way, we cannot function without them. If one gear breaks or is lost, it must be repaired and found before it can work.

The execution was quick and the newscasters spoke with brevity. That's all there was to it. The accused pleaded guilty and was killed. End broadcast.

The school will be abuzz, no doubt, like how they are after every execution. Rumors of what they did wrong will spread, and everyone will be struggling to contain their excitement. I guess it interests people to see what someone did wrong. Me as well, in some ways. That's why those news headlines of the past always made sure to have the most riveting and awful fact as the headline. It grabs attention. Just like a public execution.

Even if I might not try and show it on the outside, I feel a stab of pity for this man who has died. I'm not inhuman. We still care. We're not monsters. Even if we do relish the defeat of another traitor to the Imperium. That's only natural. Right?

I put myself in his place, imagining what it would be like to step up onto that pedestal before the whole world, entirely sure of the fact that no eyes are turned away from your confession of your crimes as you plead guilty before the crowds, however unwilling to do so you may be. The agony of trying to stop the words from flowing out of your mouth because we all are aware of what it would come to if we were to defy them. Because even standing up there before your imminent death, you would know that whatever you did and did not do could kill or save the people you love. To know that every move, even if none of it will mean anything to you in only a few minutes, will spiral into something bigger that could hurt others or inspire them. That could turn them away from you or turn to you. Mainly turn away from you. Nobody wants to suffer the same fate. Besides, he was a traitor in the first place. And the Imperium is only trying to help us, purge our tainted society of the unwanted dirt that stains the otherwise pure as snow cloth. It's for our own good that they do it all. It's to help us. It's to keep us safe. After all, what does it matter who dies, who gets hurt if it saves the majority? The greater good is always the one to be pursued. Some sacrifices are always going to have to be made.

I can't be that person. I would be failing my family, my friends, my teachers, my classmates, my government if I did. I can't let them down like that. I can't let myself down like that. It doesn't happen often that we see one of those punishment broadcasts, but every so often we do, and each time it cuts open the wound, the sore point as if touched by a blade, that renews the worry and "what-if"s. What if I don't fulfill their requirements? What if I'm not good enough to get a spot among their best? Then where will I be?

After some time of wondering and getting lost in my web of thoughts, I get up from my spot on the floor, which has long since warmed from the amount of time I have been sitting on it, and climb into the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling for a little while longer. And as I finally close my eyes, I promise myself that that will never be me. I will always remain loyal.

***

The dawn rays have begun to filter through the shades that cover the window when I wake with a start, shaking and trembling wildly. I had dreamt that I had been there myself, walking up to my death and being able to do nothing about it.

It was just a dream. Only a nightmare. It's not real, I tell myself rapidly, still between ragged breaths. Still smiling. I can't stop it. It's a habit now. Too many years of smiling, smiling, smiling. Always smiling. Speak with a smile. Sleep with a smile. Do everything with a smile. Sometimes I wish I could stop, but maybe it's for the better. Maybe one day it'll become real. Maybe one day I won't have to fake it anymore. Maybe one day I can look back and smile at all of this without effort, smile at the Imperium and thank them for their kindness, how they have blessed us all with the rule of always smiling. Maybe one day I will be among them, and I will smile gratefully at all those who come to me with the same words as I imagine I, too, will some day.

I wash my face of the events from last night, reminding myself that this is a fresh start. We can forget.

I look at myself deeply in the mirror, pondering this. Is it better to forget? I would think so. Then we wouldn't be plagued by the nightmares of the "should have"s and "could have"s of the past. It is easier to move on that way. We wouldn't have to feel. We could carry on, as if nothing had happened, doing our jobs exactly the way we are supposed to do them. Without question. Without regrets. Because everything we do serves greater purpose. The Imperium.

Obey. Always obey. They know what will help us the most. Obey. Always obey. They rescued us. Obey. Always obey. We can never, ever repay them. They brought us back from dust. Obey. Always obey. So this is our gift back instead. Obey. Always obey. The best we can possibly give back to them. Our undying devotion.

After a hasty breakfast, I walk to school in the frigid air of December, bundled in warmth from my down-filled jacket. Only the finest clothing is given to us from the Imperium. My family is one of the larger contributors. So I must uphold the Hale name and carry on that legacy. Make it greater. I cannot disappoint them. I must be perfect for them.

Some day the pressure may break me. But not today. And even if it does, what is that in comparison to the gain of it, to declare myself to my nation what an honorable citizen I am?

A breeze sends a shiver down my spine, and I stuff my hands in my pockets for extra heat, as I turn the final corner to get to the school. "Obsequor Institution" it is called. A strange name. But like all other things, I don't question it. At least out loud.

Faint sobs catch my attention to the left, and I peer in the general direction from which they came. No one's there. Perhaps it was just the howling of the wind.

But later as I enter my classroom for the first period, I don't miss it. And I pretend to ignore the single tear that slips down Callisto's cheek.