In the Cell

The Story

Sary lived in a time. Possibly a near-distant future. Possibly not. It can be hard to tell when liberty will fall.

She was sitting in her room, blacking out and illegal message. Sary started blowing on the paper. She had to let the ink dry before she would rip it up. Otherwise, the coloring would stain her hands, marking her instantly as someone involved in illegal messages. And the police were just a few apartments down, doing security screenings. If she was found with ink on her fingers, nothing good would come.

Out of nowhere, pounding started on Sary's door.

"Hey, girl, open up in there."

Breathing erratically, Sary stuffed the still-drying sheet of paper in one of her desk drawers, leaving black prints on her fingers and clues leading right to where she had hidden it.

"Coming, sirs." Sary opened the door.

The police were trained in the arts of intimidation and violence.

They were also trained to spot ink from a mile away. Now that technology was dominant, anyone using ink would stand out. But all technology was tracked. No using that way, either.

So when Sary's fingers were caked in ink, one of the officers caught it.

"You got something to hide, miss?"

Sary shook her head.

"Check for prints."

The other man immediately looked around Sary's small apartment, searching for any sign of ink.

His eyes bulged when he saw her desk.

"Looks like we have a prize."

The officer wrenched open her desk to reveal the note.

"What do we have here?" The officer smirked.

"It's not-"

But the first officer moved suddenly, grabbing Sary, and yanking her upwards. She dangled by her arm, her wrist burning.

"We'll see." The other man said. Quickly, he pulled out a small kit. He poured some clear, smelly liquid into a little bowl and began to dip the note inside. But as he began to pull the note out, all of the ink began to wear off, leaving only a white strip of paper.

"Nasty girl," the one holding Sary huffed, and he pulled her even higher. Sary's eyes watered in pain, but she choked out a few words.

"You'll never prove anything."

"Yes, but you had paper and ink which is Class A Contraband. You'll be living in a cold cell soon."

"Like I'm not already in one." She hissed.

"Get her out."

Sary was hauled from her room. She didn't make one peep as the men carted her away.

Just a few minutes before, Sary had read through the note.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if women had equal rights as men. I find it appalling that we're forced, like slaves, to stay in these little apartments until we're old enough to have children of our own, and that's when we're valuable. What about our thoughts? I think it would so out society a world of good to have our opinions in the race. That's really all I want.

What a truly radical thought indeed.