LJ Idol: Week 5: Build a Better Mousetrap

[flipflop_diva]

They call me Ancient3123 because that is all I am now. Another old face in a line of old faces, undeserving of a name to call my own.

I have been here for years. Perhaps lifetimes. I cannot remember. Everything here blurs together, every day the same.

The alarm goes off at five o’clock in the morning without fail, one day after the next. There is never any change. It’s always the same shrill ear-piercing beep, and a bowl of cold porridge being slipped into my cell. I never see what delivers it.

At five ten, I am herded down a steel hall to shower and dress, side by side with all the other Ancients. There are a lot less of us now than there used to be. I never hear what happens to the Ancients who disappear.

At five twenty, I am led down another hall and into a warehouse. There is a chair marked just for me. I should feel special, but I don’t. But by five twenty-five, I am seated and attached, my mind no longer in my control, but in theirs.

A long time ago, back when I had a name, I remember there were others who called me a genius. An even longer time ago, back when everyone had names, I thought I could change the world.

Maybe I am. Maybe this is my way of changing the world. Giving my brain power to the collective and making it stronger.

Not that I have a choice.

But maybe it’s better this way.

I finish my work at five o’clock in the evening every day and I am led back to my cell. Dinner is another bowl of porridge, but this one is warm. Lights go out at six o’clock, and so does all the noise. No one here ever tries to talk.

Not anymore.

We are supposed to just sleep, not dream. But sometimes something goes wrong and I dream anyway. Dream of the days long ago, before the bombs fell and the machines took over, when the world was free.

Free.

It is a word I do not understand anymore. No one here is free.

Maybe it’s better this way.

Sometimes I dream about the night they finally came for me. It was cold and dark. We were huddled together. I had thought we were safe, but they found us. They ripped her out of my arms before I could speak, before I could say goodbye, and the baby strapped to her chest was taken as well.

I never saw either of them again.

They tell me it’s better this way.

The machine that dives into my thought every day, that harnesses my brain power to help power the world, talks to me sometimes. I’m not sure it’s supposed to, but I hear it loud and clear inside my head.

“You are one of the lucky ones,” it always says. “It’s better this way.”

I don’t feel lucky.

I don’t feel better.

I want to escape.

I fear there’s no way out.





[[This is obviously fiction. At least I hope.]]

Comments

[clzair.livejournal.com]

Love this! Would be interested to read more...

[draganaoftv.livejournal.com]

I would so read this as a novel/watch it, like wow.

[kajel.livejournal.com]

Very creepy. Nicely done.

[onda-bianca.livejournal.com]

This could really be a series...I'd like to read more about the circumstances that lead the character to this life. And than I'd like to read about life on the outside and what they are doing with your brain.

[eska818.livejournal.com]

I really loved this. I can't think of one negative thing to say.

Maybe it's better that way. ;)

[suesniffsglue.livejournal.com]

Definitely drew me in and gave me really strong imagery. Lovely job!

[jem0000000.livejournal.com]

Poor narrator. Sad, resigned, and hopeful all at the same time.

[ljidolvillian.livejournal.com]

This has power. I felt a lot of compassion for the narrator.

[eternal-ot.livejournal.com]

That's sure creepy!..wished the machines were less mechanical..:P

[sarcasmoqueen.livejournal.com]

I enjoyed this entry (as I usually do), but it leaves me feeling... unsettled... I want to know what's going on. How did the ancient one end up where he is and what exactly does he do every day?

[mamas-minion.livejournal.com]

I got a chill reading this, would love to hear more about this world.

[improper-me.livejournal.com]

Caught my interest right at the very beginning.

[roina-arwen.livejournal.com]

Nicely done. Sort of reminds me of The Matrix, where everyone is powering the machines.

[i-17bingo.livejournal.com]

This is a solid, bleak metaphor for the slog of a nine-to-five office job: waking up, eating dull food, being thought of as a "human resource," never knowing what happens to your coworkers when they retire/are laid off, having to leave loved ones behind so you can move someplace to work, being considered lucky because your body isn't dying--just your soul.

Of course, I hated my desk job, so that might color my interpretation.

[penpusher.livejournal.com]

Certainly the question of choice comes into play here, and what we choose for our lives (no matter how dull/terrifying it is) and what we are force to accept (no matter how positive it might be overall) and that makes for a metaphor worth exploring in a deeper way.

Terrific!

[dreamsreflected.livejournal.com]

This was brilliantly executed, would happily read more if the same.

[solstice-singer.livejournal.com]

This was really, really awesome! I loved it.