Before We Jump

Chapter 1: The Dam is Broken

I was born in a small apartment in New York city. Not that that’s anything special though, these days I think something like 30% of the U.S. population is in New York. Kind of tragic really, I love the countryside, but as long as I can remember it's been mostly culties that live there.

‘Culty’ is a term we inherited years back, before my birth when Ireland sank, and they were forced to find somewhere else to live. The states were a logical choice for many, not that we’ve ever welcomed immigrants, but those who could came. I suppose it would be incorrect to say Ireland sank though, what really happened was more that the ocean rose around them. Apparently some of their taller hills are still above water for the most part if you don’t count the fact that their air was always more liquid than gas. According to common legend some ‘culties’ still live there.

The word refers to the uneducated masses outside of America’s largest cities. I didn’t believe it until I heard them speak for myself, but they actually buy the propaganda spread by the Council of Executives.

In New York I suppose it is part of our culture to silently disagree. Some in other cities proclaim their distaste for our leadership more loudly, but here we cannot afford to, though our nearness to their centre of power disillusions us beyond any possible doubt, it also means there is a much more direct watch kept over us.

Those considered traitors in our perpetual time of war are not only killed, but tortured as well in order to set an example and keep us in the aforementioned state: one of silent disagreement. Not that you wouldn’t be killed for it anywhere else if you were overheard by the wrong people, it’s just that here the police force is much, much larger as they have more than the supposedly untarnishable image of the government to protect. They also have the members of government themselves.

It really is, at root, the government that brought me here, not intentionally, not knowingly. They brought me here in the sense that they caused the chain of events that dragged me from my comfortable life. A far from perfect, yet comfortable, life. The events were not simply caused by the government, but were actually in direct response to a single action that they performed. A single action that broke the dam and made every drop of water coming before it sting on the faces of the citizens of New York. And that pain is what caused the terrorists to fight even harder for every inch of ground, and that fighting, ultimately, is what brought us here.

The day of this event I woke, just like any other day, and lay awake on my bed for ten minutes before I found the strength to stand. I grabbed a full set of clothes that lay haphazardly crumpled in my chest of drawers and walked into the bathroom where I turned on the shower. Its heat awakened my fully, as I slowly became aware of my continued existence, the monotony of that which was lived through daily began to set in once more.

Today is just the same as normal, head to work, spend the day there, and return home. That is probably why, when it came down to it, I was prepared to leave. I had no friends to speak of, only coworkers. I never got close to anyone because of the fear of what might happen to them. The only people I had ever really been friends with were my family members, and they had all either died or left. I never got in romantic relationships because I was afraid I might have children, and at that time remained solid in my belief that no children should be brought into a world like the one where we live.

I know now that my view on friendship and children was unnecessarily pessimistic, but can you really blame me after all that I had seen? Even now that I am more conscious of life’s meaning I still wonder if anyone deserves to live in the apartments of New York. I shook myself out of the perpetual morning stupor and stepped out of the shower, just a little more awake for it.

I quickly dried off and pulled on my loose clothing, opening the door and letting out a burst of steam into the rest of my minuscule apartment. It says something for the heat and length of my shower that it was steam rushing out rather than in, for in the world we live in today steam is everywhere... What with a power plant on every other block. In a way though, steam was my savior. In this political and social climate, it was never safe to walk the streets.