"Mom! Why did you have to drag me to this backwater place? I wanna go to a college in a city, not some town on the border of the country," Jane cried out in indignation as she carried her stuff inside her new house, which looked quite cozy and small compared to her old house.

 

Still, she was unhappy with her new place since there were no places of entertainment or malls where she could enjoy on her own.

 

"Jane, be mature. You are already eighteen years old. So, as a young lady, you should learn to adapt to situations like these. It's also hard for me as a single mother to do all this shifting on my own. But we have no nice since my new job posting is in this place," Maria said with a sigh as she placed down a huge box in her hand.

 

Jana blew through her lips in frustration as she continued to take out her stuff from the truck.

 

The other reason she was disappointed in moving from her old home was that her only close friend, whom she had known for over ten years, was in that place.

 

And she knew how hard it was to make such a friend, especially when she was an introvert, and now she has no friends here, and neither was she confident of making new ones anytime soon.

 

However, just to distract her mind, she took a look around to see who all her neighbors were and only two other houses in the vicinity.

 

"Oh, hi there!" An old man's voice sounded from behind.

 

Jane turned around and saw an old couple with gentle smiles looking at her.

 

Jane's lips parted, not knowing who this couple was and why they approached her.

 

"Hello, young miss. My name is John, and this is my wife, Marla. We noticed you and your mother moving into this house and wanted to greet our new neighbors," John said with an amiable smile while Marla nodded with a pleasant smile.

 

"Ah, Good morning! I suppose you guys are our new neighbors," Maria came out with a beaming smile as she noticed the old couple approaching her daughter.

 

"Yes. We live in that boring-looking house over there," John said as he pointed at a small grey-colored building that looked quite old for a 21st-century house.

 

"We won't slow you down with your work anymore. Why not come over to her house later when you two have settled down? I would love to talk to your lovely-looking daughter as well," Marla said in a tone of appreciation as she noticed Jane's long silky black hair, which hung down her back like a waterfall.

 

She also couldn't help but admire Jane's light brown eyes that looked like a pair of twin pearls, and her pale skin looked as beautiful as the snowflakes.

 

She could see that Jane got most of her genes from her mother, especially her eyes.

 

"Sure. We will find a convenient time and come by later," Maria politely said.

 

Soon, Jane and her mother shifted everything into her house, and the skies had already become dark enough for the moon to shine in its full glory.

 

Jane had her first day of college tomorrow and decided to sleep early, especially when she was feeling tired from all the moving stuff around.

 

'Hmm...at least I get to sleep on my soft old bed...' Jane mumbled as she dozed off before she could realize.

 

*RUMBLE!*

 

"Haaaa...." Jane woke up with a startled expression upon hearing the loud rumbling of thunder.

 

She looked out the window to see bright purple flashes covering the skies while a slight drizzle pelted the windows.

 

Feeling curious about the sudden rain and thunder, she got up and peeked out through the window only to see an empty street.

 

But before she could assume that no one was out, she saw something shocking.

 

A man in a black hoodie seemed to fight with a masked man. And they both continued to engage in a fight till the masked man kicked the hooded guy's stomach and removed his hood to reveal a handsome young man with medium-length hair.

 

However, what happened next made Jane's heart thud when she saw the young man quickly getting the jump on the masked guy and taking out a knife before slicing his throat.

 

'What the hell!' Jane was shocked and horrified as she quickly shrunk her head and pressed her back against the wall, feeling her heart trembling with panic.

 

Even though the skies were dark, because of the street lamps, she was able to at least see what was happening and clearly saw the hooded man slicing the neck of the masked guy with his knife.

 

She couldn't believe she just witnessed a murder and decided to take another peek to see if what she saw was real and not just a dream.

 

But all she saw was the masked man lying on the ground with his blood slowing spreading around and the hooded man suddenly looked up, towards her direction!

 

"Shit!" Jane immediately pulled herself back and almost stumbled out of panic.

 

She quickly jumped onto her bed and didn't dare to go anywhere near the window again.

 

'Who is he...and whom did he kill...why...' She mumbled as she fidgeted her fingers.

 

For the rest of the night, she wasn't able to catch a wink, and when Maria came up to wake her up, she saw Jane sitting up with reddened eyes.

 

"Oh my god, Jane? Are you alright? Why do you look so pale and tired?" Maria asked with visible worry

 

"I-I am alright...I was just too excited...heh..." Jane replied with a dry chuckle while still thinking about what she saw the previous night.

 

Maria frowned and asked, "Are you still having those visions? Do you want to see a psychiatrist again?"

 

Jane grimaced, "What? No! Of course not! I told you I don't have any "visions" anymore, nor do I want to see a psychiatrist ever again. Jeez, mom!"

 

"Okay, okay. It's just that you know...I am just concerned about you...especially when some of these visions you claim are about the future came true. Well, anyways, forget I said anything and go get ready," Maria said with a sigh as she left.

 

Jane rolled her eyes as she forced herself to get up while pushing away her thoughts about what she saw before.

 

Still, she couldn't help but ask her mother to drop her off at her college since she was scared to walk on the street alone.

 

Once she entered her new college, just as she expected, she was sitting alone in her new class while others seemed to have a good time mingling around.

 

She only glanced at the entrance occasionally to see who her new classmates were.

 

However, suddenly her eyes got fixed to the entrance when a young man entered the class whose face looked eerily familiar...just as same as the young man she saw yesterday night!

 

Only now that she was seeing him closer, he looked tall, handsome with chiseled features and light blue eyes, which looked quite charming.

 

He had a gentle smile on his face, but upon noticing Jane, his smile curved into a dark smile as he approached her, his gaze glued on to hers.

 

'Oh no...why is he coming here?? I have to run...maybe complain to the police?' Jane's thoughts became chaotic as she tried to think up various solutions to deal with this situation, but weirdly her body stayed rooted to her seat.

 

She held her breath as the young man sat beside her and didn't dare to look towards his side.

 

"Hi. I am Damien. What's your name?"

 

Jane replied with a shaky smile as she quickly glanced at him, "I-I am Jane."

 

"Hmm...nice name. So, Jane, tell me one thing." He put his head closer to hers as he whispered in her ears, "What did you exactly see yesterday night?"

 

Jane felt like her heart almost leaped out and replied as she shook her head nervously, "N-Nothing at all. I was...sleeping. What could I possibly see, heh..."

 

Damien only smiled as he leaned back and said in a low voice, "Meet me behind your house tonight, 12 AM. Don't make me wait."

 

Jane gulped, wondering what this mysterious and seemingly dangerous guy was up to and if he was planning to threaten or kill her subtly.

 

However, she nodded out of fear and then looked away as she held her breath.

 

The hours passed though it seemed like an eternity for Jane as she quickly ran back to her home, not bothering to linger in the college for long lest Damien finds her again.

 

However, even after getting back to her room, she couldn't help but walk around her room restlessly as she kept on mumbling, "What should I do...what should I do..."

 

And before she knew it, the moon took over the skies, and she was still awake, not knowing what to do or if she should tell her mother.

 

But then, thinking about her mother's safety, she did not dare to do that.

 

Finally, after mustering up her courage, just before the clock struck 12, she silently made her way down and slipped out the back where there were only trees and plants covering the area

 

"Good. You came."

 

"Ah!" Jane was startled upon hearing the familiar voice from behind as she turned around to see Damien coming into her backyard.

 

"W-What do you want? I told you..I didn't see anything. B-But if you try anything, I will call the cops. I have already scheduled a message for them in case something happens to me," Jane bravely said after tightening her nerves.

 

Damien slightly laughed, not feeling bothered by her 'threat', and came closer as he said, "Your life is not as normal as you think. You have been living a lie, and there are people you should be wary of...people who will do anything to get their hands on you. Don't you ever wonder why you have these visions, especially of the future?"

 

Jane was flabbergasted to hear all this but couldn't help but mumble after a few moments of silence, "H-How do you know?"

 

"Because you have the Astral bloodline...the one that allows you to see visions of the future, and there are people who would be willing to kill anyone in their path to enslave and use you. There is a war coming which will devour this world soon and a whole another world you are not aware of. Now tell me...do you want to survive that war and live?"

 

They kept torturing me, hoping to squeeze out some answers from my heart. I stopped feeling pain a while ago; the sensation of discomfort now a muted ache. They struck my face, my arms, my head, my back, my stomach, and my legs, tied to a rickety aluminum chair They pleaded with me to answer for my crimes, to assuage the Party, to give in.

 

The looks on their faces, such pleading eyes and concerned brows, belied the manner in which they were destroying me for refusing to lie.

 

What was the good in fighting for this long? I could make all of this stop by acquiescing, by participating in the lie. I could admit that I was an enemy of the state, a betrayer of the Party, and all would be well again. My suffering would end, and their faces would resume their regular expression, of defeated fear

 

This expression permeated everyone in my city: defeatism. Everyone was not encouraged to lie, nor did they want to lie, they wanted to survive. Man desires to reduce pain, and increase pleasure, not weather hurt for truth.

 

But I couldn't. I never could.

 

As a small child, I balked when I was told to stand and plead to an image of our dear leader, for his continuing grace, for the wealth of opportunity he had afforded students. Not to learn for the sake of learning, of course, but to learn about the world mediated through his greatness.

 

I openly defied my teachers.

 

Many times I was asked, begged, by my teachers to give in, they could only forestall the beatings for so long.

 

I didn't care about the beatings.

 

A vague feeling brew in my heart when the intercom roared every morning at school, asking us to pledge allegiance to our dear leader, and to our dear Party. This feeling was stronger than any childhood irritation, I felt rebellion. I felt an intense dissatisfaction.

 

Eventually, as I aged, the rebellious actions and attitudes were enough to warrant physical retribution.

 

The reality of my moral decisions became evident when I turned 12, and I criticized a lecturer for declaring that the economic decisions of our Party had led to an two hundred fold increase in crop yield for our rural town. I knew this was insane, everyone in class knew this was insane. In our rural town, one 45 minute walk to school, past a couple of family farms, would demonstrate that our crop yield didn't increase.

 

In fact, everything was dead.

 

Our people were dead.

 

Our families work themselves to death, trying to increase the yield, in hopes of receiving adulatory attention from the great Party, and some reward to make this existence palatable.

 

But, of course, it was all for naught.

 

Anger overtook me, and I sternly stated at the lecturer:

 

"How can you sit there and lie to young people with a face like yours? Do you feel nothing uttering a script that you know is ridiculous?"

 

He looked at me, puzzled, but with no fear for my well-being, or for his own, but he looked at me with sadness. This was the first time I saw that vague, defeated look on a man's face up close.

 

"Good luck to you, young man, good luck."

 

He sent me to a room in the rear area of my school with the letters DISCIPLINARY ROOM. Two large men escorted me with there, armed with batons. As a young boy, they forced me into this room, and they beat me. They wanted me to apologize. I remember closing my eyes and asking them to not take it easy on me because I was a child.

 

-----

 

Back in the chair, the men looked at me, with more pity this time.

 

"We are forced to do this. We have to do this. We will die if we don't do this. We need to know. Where did you send that information? What VPN program did you use?" the shorter one asked.

 

"There is no use in this; I will not talk. I have already done my deed, and I am ready to pay the price. Gentleman, I am ready to die."

 

A smile left my face as I said those words. I expected tears to run down my face, but they did not, instead, I felt freedom.

 

I made a decision.

 

You see, after years of growing up constantly accosted for the basic inquisitiveness of childhood, I developed a knack for computer security. I figured out methods to get around the firewalls in our home country, which pervaded our nation's computer systems, by no decision of our own.

 

I lived a nomadic and miserly existence, scrounging and escaping from place to place, looking for things to send overseas and hurt the image of my native country. Revenge became my way of life, a fuel for my being.

 

There had to be a way to damage this institution, this COUNTRY, that had taken everything from me. The empty farms of my youth were empty because of THEM, and they were empty in every sense of the term. As a youth, I was not only hungry for food, but the two people in early life that are supposed to guide. The party took those people away from me.

 

"This is not going to end well for any of us. If we don't get an answer out of you, you will be dealt with, and we will be dealt with." The shorter man said this as he gestured to the taller man, both crouched enough to be at eye level with me.

 

"This is my life. The party can take it as they please, but I won't give them anything willingly. You have my condolences, for you lack of conviction."

 

Both men started crying.

 

"HE IS CRAZY!"

 

They immediately stood up and paced around my chair, holding their hands in their faces, stomping about, whimpering about their situation, begging me to stop being so selfish, and telling me they had families.

 

I understood their concern, I really did. But the truth mattered more. The truth mattered more than their family, than my family, than all of the families in this surreal country. My clarity scared them, my comfort with the inevitable terrified them; the Party had them believing death was the worst of all alternatives.

 

------

 

The two men, after their theatrics, left the room. A second man arrived, in full military uniform, straight and stiff as a board. He entered with an entourage of soldiers, but soon shooed them away, and asked for solitude.

 

The military man, with deep wrinkles in his face, his face a walking cigarette, studied me like one would study an interesting animal, not a human.

 

"I take it you're a brave one."

 

"No bravery, just tired."

 

"Tired of what? Living? You don't have to ruin your country and everyone that knows you if you're tired of that."

 

"No word games; I have accepted my fate. The information will be sent out to our public and the world public, the Party's failure in all domains will be disseminated everywhere. Your soldiers will know how little they are paid, and well you are paid. There will be nothing to hold the lie together."

 

"So you just want to destroy everything then?"

 

"Yes. It doesn't matter what I want anyway. It won't matter what the Party wants either. I don't have faith that our people will make the right decision, or the best decision, but at least, they know they don't have to believe the lie."

 

His official face soon disappeared, and he looked angry. People in his position have forgotten what it is like to talk to someone who isn't willing to participate in their game. I have sympathy for men like him, his whole life spent participating in theater, never knowing truth, always denying his senses. If the truth ever did enter him, then he was in for a painful state, a suicidal state.

 

He acknowledged the finality and certainty of my decision with his eyes, and gave me a proud nod, then he walked out of the room, clicking his boots until they became an echo.

 

----

 

I awaited the final call.

 

My cell was in the center of many other cells, a long row of trapped men and women. As the general left, and other men shut my door, I awaited what was to be the most final of sentences. I heard the other people in my row crying, imploring God, the Party, and all of them, for mercy. I heard men slamming themselves into the doors, desperate to escape the reality of their situation.

 

I felt for them. None of them were prepared for martyrdom, and neither was I, I was here for the revenge the truth had afforded me. I was at war; I was a soldier. And no soldier goes into war without accepting the possibility of forfeiting his life.

 

I too, would cry out if I had arrived here unprepared and unwilling.