Not Quite

Choice

We haven't got a government. We haven't got a democracy. The Dawn isn't like that. We have the Gifted, and their families. Those who are Gifted put their families at risk, as well as themselves. The Collectors are in charge. They are part of the Shadow Council, and hold the highest position. And they are powerful. If they say you do not exist, then you don't. You don't argue with them. Their word is law. After the Collectors come the Authoritatives. If you have any sense, you do not argue with them, either. They are violent, and vicious. They do not have rules, morals or a conscience. Sometimes Snatchers and Authoritatives work together. The Voids are their drones, unable to think for themselves. They make wonderful spies, because no one can tell until it's too late. And they're choking in a pool of their own blood, watching their loved one's slaughter.

And then there are the Archives. The Archives are massive buildings, full of information. Books, newspapers, magazines, computers. They don't have any new material, because the Collectors deemed it too dangerous. So I go there to learn. About civilisation, before it all went so horribly wrong. It's the only place you can learn. They have abolished schools, universities, colleges. After all, if the only job available is working in a factory, why would you need to know about the heliocentric theory? Most of us are illiterate. After you turn seventeen, you are enlisted in a factory. There are the Industries, where machines are made, or the Incubators, where people are made.

I spend almost all of my time in the Archives, learning about days gone by. That's how I learnt about the animals. With a childlike curiosity, I searched frantically for information, any information, on the animals. Without it, I probably wouldn't be able to identify the wolf which came to my window last night. Without it, I could have easily assumed that it was a deformed monster and screamed blue murder. That doesn't mean I wasn't terrified.

The Archives taught me a lot about animals, particularly wolves. In fact, wolves were one of my favourite animals. That the animal who appeared at my window was a wolf was something I took to be a coincidence at the time. But now I know that I have been watched. Not just by the Council, but by others, those who are rebelling. Eli says he's going to take me to see them tomorrow. I should tell you about Eli before I forget. He was the wolf. That came out wrong. I'm not saying he's a werewolf, or a lycanthrope, but he has the power of therianthropy. That means that he can change into any animal he wants to. As long as he's seen them before.  He said that he chose a wolf because his 'scouts' told him that I liked them. He refuses to tell me who his scouts are, and I'm more paranoid than ever.

Eli Mason is tall, well muscled, with long black hair. And he's kind of good looking. But that's not the point. The point is that he offered me a choice. A bit like the red pill/blue pill in the Matrix. I could go back home, right now, and pretend it never happened, but wonder what would have happened, or I could stay with him. I chose to stay with him, but I'm not sure why just yet. That's really why I'm running for my life. Before the Authoritatives took her, my friend Tandr said that my curiosity would be the death of me. She was the one who could see into the future. I miss her. Eli has been helping me with my powers, but we're not getting very far. He says it's because I'm tired. I'm starting to lose faith in my own abilities.

Eli says that I'm the catalyst, the turning point for the fighters. I don't feel like a catalyst. I don't feel like anything much, really. But he believes in me, and I'll try my best to do the same. We've been walking for hours, to get away from the harsh fluorescence of the city, and I'm positive my lungs feel cleaner already. There's a massive clump of dead trees not far from us, and the sight fills me with despair. The dead forests are much more common than they should be. And it's our fault that they're like that.

I suddenly remember a line from a song I heard at the Archives.

The forests that once were green,

Were coloured black, by those killing machines. 

I hum it under my breath, until Eli turns to me. He looks stressed, and so I stop. But he tells me to keep singing. When I do, I swear that the grass around us, dead, as everything else is, turns just a little greener. Eli gives me an encouraging smile, and I feel more confident.

Maybe I am the catalyst, after all.