I glanced at the fence, at the clouded over sky above it, and then looked back at the teenager who had gone through too much, a question in my eyes. She nodded. "Yes," she said, "this is it." she let out another harsh laugh. "Can you believe that the government actually calls this place 'The Haven', like a safe haven or something of the sort? As if that place is safe in the least." She said it sarcastically, but her face seemed crumpled in on itself, as if she was once again resisting tears. I took this chance to speak.
"What do you call it then, if not 'The Haven'?" She took a deep breath and then mustered up a smirk that looked more like a grimace, and said, "I call it Hell." She looked at me and said, "but in order to understand, really understand what the government is doing, you need to know why they are doing what they are doing." She looked at the fence, her eyes sad. "They need a form of information control. They want to control what we know so that they can predict how we'll think. And the easiest way to wipe out large groups of people who know something they shouldn't..."
"...Is to bomb them," I sighed, "And I suppose they have?" I asked, staring at the cloudy sky.
"Yes," she said, "but every single time, they've covered it up before any news could get out."
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...
