I tried to object, tried to tell her that I really did want to know, but she just frowned at me. "Trust me. I know from experience. It hurts to have the world as you know it shattered beneath your feet. It's terrifying to be in free fall, not knowing what's real and what's a lie, not having anything to hold onto."
I should've listened. I know now, that of course she was right. It does hurt. The government had built up the lie like a glass house around us, and if we so much as threw a pebble, it would all come crashing down, slashing us to bits in the process. But, like the curious, obnoxious, idiot that I am, I kept pushing her.
"What about you?" I asked, making my voice as kind as I could, "did the truth hurt you?"
She glared at me, but nodded, and I could almost see tears in her eyes. I glanced down at my wrist, which was still held tight in her grip, looked back up at her, and said, "Then won't telling someone else ease the pain, even just a little bit?" I didn't mean to trick her, I really didn't, but she seemed like she would be more likely to help me if she had some incentive for herself. And it wasn't as if I'd told a lie. I had just made her believe that her mental welfare was my main reason for wanting you know what was behind that fence, as opposed to my own curiosity. She frowned slightly, but then addressed me yet again, her voice softer now, much less harsh than it had been when she first began speaking, "are you sure you want to know?"
Struggling to keep from bursting in excitement, I nodded.
YOU ARE READING
Glass Houses
Science Fiction"They built up all these lies like glass houses, too dangerous to move around in, but at least that house kept me warm at night. Now I lay in bed shivering with fear of the very people that claimed to protect me, to protect us all. The windows in...
