The Trial

Chapter 19 - Edited

Over the course of the next week a flurry of messages go back and forth about the purge, but they're all too vague to give anything definitive, and find it a little maddening. Whatever this purge is, it's going to happen soon, and hope he dies in time for me to stop it from happening.

Maddening? You think that's maddening? Just wait until your time comes around to go through it with you. Here I am. Trapped without a hint of my captors. This is maddening, or it would be if I allowed them to break me.

There's been in increase in anti-revolutionary activity; at least according to the reports, but it's all lies. If the can be believed, anti-revolutionaries are responsible for things no one would ever do to another, at least not outside of the state. The reports are strikingly detailed and filled with things only the state could imagine. There must be some reason for sending them, but I'm at a loss to understand.

I push the unpleasantness to the back of my mind to join the others, since it's become easy to compartmentalize in my waking hours. I'm in no position to do anything, but that's going to change. There's no longer any doubt I'm next in line to be the Keeper, since the traps and eyes increase a little more each day.

If I must suffer through this, at least I get to be reminded of the incompetence of those who tried so hard to ensnare me.

I do long for the days of private walks with my driver, but there are too many eyes in the woods. My driver told me the makeshift camp would be vacated in time and have to believe he was telling me the truth. Had anyone been caught, there would've been a lot of finger pointed at me. How could I not have known they were there? It wouldn't just be their lives at risk, but mine as well.

I still walk through the woods every day, since I can't show the state anything has changed. It doesn't matter that we're not able to speak outside of the ears of the state anymore. The only thing that matters is keeping my mask on, and playing their game better than they do.

You're still watching from a safe distance as I'm kept bound to myself, but I know you're there. I can feel your eyes trying to wiggle into my mind. Show yourself, and let me plead my case. Give me my voice for just a moment. How else can I beg for this madness to end?

State driver twelve opens the familiar door with the annoying creak of rust, and feel a chill in the air. There's no need to shield my eyes from the sun, since I haven't seen it in almost a week. It's always the same shades of gray with no sign of hope, and an unpleasant dampness in the air.

The chill brings the scent of nature, but it's softened behind other things, and that's the only reason I can find the strength to leave the warehouse behind. My driver takes up a position behind me and follows where I lead as the state watches from all around. I ignore the impulse to search for them, since that action would be enough to send alarms to the wrong person.