Reviving the Truth

Chapter three: They Can Hear Us

Bonny's POV

"What did you mean when you said they can hear us?" I ask.

We've been talking for a little while now. Nothing real important, just small talk to pass the time.

He lowers his voice back into a whisper, the same tone he used when he said it the first time.

"They don't want everyone to know the truth. The less they know, the better for our society to keep on living a, what they call, peaceful life."

I nod my head and motion for him to continue talking.

"If we talk about our dreams, or memories, and someone who doesn't know is listening, we will be executed along with them," he says. His voice shakes with every word he speaks. Talking about this must be horrid for him.

"A boy, maybe fourteen, was placed in the cell with me a couple of years ago," he says.

"Back then, I didn't know that you weren't supposed to let anyone on the outside know about your memories.

But the guy, Benjamin, wouldn't stop talking about them."

He gives out a brief sigh every now and then in-between words.

"I didn't care to talk about my memories so I just listened to Benjamin. Then one day, I could hear some soldiers carrying on a ruckus outside the doors. On the outside they must've been being unbearably loud.

The doors then burst open and before I could do anything they swept Ben away. I heard his screams as they pulled him away, and after the door closed his screams seemed just as loud as they did when he was in here."

I get the feeling he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. Atleast about that. He seems to be staring off into space, and I snap him back into reality when I ask him a question.

"How can you say that stuff now?" I ask, fearing they could take Noel away, and I'd be completely and utterly alone. And who knows what they'd do to him. Kill him? Torture him? I shudder at the thought and focus my attention back to Noel.

"I've made a timing system. After they bring lunch, which they did just ten minutes ago," he says. I glance to my half eaten peanut butter sandwich lying on the floor.

"They go to the left of the door-when Benjamin did most of his talking about his memories, which didn't make much sense to me. It was as if he knew too when they weren't in the camera room. But that'd be foolish to talk openly about it all the time when you knew exactly when they were watching you, right?"

He thinks about it for a second then makes a motion with his hand as if he's waving it off.

"Anyways, the morning he talked all about his memories at breakfast, which he very seldom did and if he did, it was in a low voice, the soldiers came and got him soon after. He'd talked extremely loud, like he'd been meaning to get caught, and he did.

Sometimes, he'd talk like that after lunch, and nothing happened. That's how I know."

So there's a certain time they watch us. Around breakfast, when we would have most likely first woken up which, in a way, is smart, but now that apparently we've caught on, we have a slight advantage. But why had Benjamin seemingly purposely talked openly about it at the exact time he knew they were listening?

I make my voice ever lower, not knowing if it make any difference or not.

"Do you know for sure that they killed Benjamin?" I ask, forming a theory in my head and wanting to see if it might possibly be true.

He pauses, thinks for a moment.

"Actually, no. They brought him out of here, he screamed, but it's not like they shot him. I'd never even heard a gunshot," he replies.