text: [Themes: fan fiction, dystopia]
  
  Below the greeting you see the date: 9/21. The year says "1984," but you can't be certain that the year was correct. The Party has a record of rewriting the past. However, you do not focus on the year. You only knew that today was the fourth of September, and you needed to find work. You know someone who works with the Ministry of Truth, and the position is as good as yours. The tasks weren't very hard, but there was a lot to do. The Telescreen's propaganda continues to enter your ears, catching your attention. The eyes of the man on the screen give you an uneasy feeling, however you shake it off to continue reading. You look down at the list of areas to find work, and luckily the Ministry of Truth is at the bottom. You know that you can find work, but you also think of having a stroll throughout Airstrip One before you enter the world of work and become one with the Party. You have several days to contact your friend and get the job, so there can't be any rush to find work. You turn down the Telescreen, but it doesn't turn off. You've heard stories of it, and you couldn't bare to listen to the loud sounds of propaganda at times of rest, so you leave your apartment. You take a deep breath, and decide where you'd like to go.
  
  [Author's Note: Welcome to Oceania. The most powerful nation on the planet. We expect you to act according to the will of the Party and to love our protector, Big Brother. Citizens must follow all regulations set by the Ministry of Love and must receive a job by the date issued below. The Party sends its regards, and wishes you the best.]
  
  > A Walk With the Proles
  You decide to take a stroll around Airstrip One, to take a look at your surroundings and become acquainted with the people. As you walk, you see the streets littered with posters of the man on tv, as well as more telescreens. Not only that, but the people around you are so quiet. You hear the sounds of shoes as the other Party members walk, but it still feels very empty. You figured you have as much time to explore the area as you need. It's all for the good of the Party, of course. You don't want to hold up the progress of the people because you were late to a meeting. Your eyes are drawn to the moldy streaks on the walls of the gray buildings. The sight instantly bores you, so you look away. Having seen as much of the Inner Party as it can aesthetically offer, you look at the ground and continue to walk...
  
  After a couple of minutes, you seem to notice that there are less uniforms around you. You see people with ragged uniforms, but it's a sight for sore eyes. Most of them seem to be walking in the opposite direction you are going, but you shrug it off. It must be some sort of event going on somewhere else. As well as the lack of uniforms, you see a lack of telescreens, a lack of posters, a lack of Big Brother. You feel refreshed, even though the broken windows of the neighborhood signal that you are not in a nice part of town. You look at the people. There's just more life in them than those in the Party. You see all of the pubs, the stores filled with old knick knacks. All of it gives you a feeling of warmth, and you begin to enjoy your time there. You've established a place for you to go when the organized life of the Inner P-
  
  Suddenly, an explosion behind you blows you across the ground, making you land on your stomach. You cough for a while as dust fills the air, trying to get up once more. Your ears are ringing, and you struggle to your feet once more. Slowly, you turn around. There's smoke coming from a hole in the wall of a building. Your knees are shaking, but you take a look. Inside, there's a large red streak. Horrified, you back away. You stumble and fall over, but get up once more. The people begin to return, filling the streets once more. You wonder how they could've sensed that something was going to explode. Shocked, you wonder where else you should go.
  
  > Down the Rabbit Hole
  Having witnessed what you later found out is a "rocket bomb," you continue to walk. Luckily, you aren't hurt. The shock of the attack has thrown off your balance, but you regain your strength and continue to walk. The red streak is something you won't forget anytime soon, but you choose to keep it out of your mind for the time being. There's a store to your right, and you want to see what's inside, however you figure you should head back. It's getting dark, and you aren't sure what happens in this area after dark.
  
  > Going Inside
  Inside the store, an old man greets you.
  
  "Nice to see a possible customer at this time of day. How may I help you?"
  
  You tell the man that you're just looking around, and look at the small souvenirs on the shelves. Something catches your eye: a glass ball with a piece of coral in it. It's such a small object, and you aren't sure what purpose it served. It looks like it might've just been a paperweight, so you lose interest. Finding that nothing really peaks your interest enough to spend money on it, you decide to leave. The man stops you.
  
  "Do you need a place to stay, stranger? Let me do you a favor. I know one of you Inner Party folk probably wouldn't last an hour in that darkness. Like a dark maze of broken glass and drunks, it is..."
  
  You look at the man. He's an old man who has witnessed many things. His white hair, his glasses, all of it seems to show his age. You think about his question. Do you really want to spend a day away from the Inner Party? What if you get in trouble? What will happen to you? Do you want to defect from the Party altogether? Is there a reason to?
  
  You ask the old man if he has a room you could spend the night in.
  
  "Certainly."
  
  You ask how much it'll be to spend the night.
  
  "Free of charge. The business has been good today, and I'm feeling generous."
  
  With a candle, he guides you to a room upstairs. Two paintings, a rug, an armchair, a clock with a 12 hour face, and a mattress. A very dusty place, but the old look is inviting you to spend the night. You feel yourself being drawn in by the feeling of safety. The man snaps you out of your fascination temporarily.
  
  "Good night, stranger."
  
  The door behind you shuts, and you've got the room to yourself. This part of town isn't all that bad after all
  
  The morning after, you gather your clothing and head out. You see the man reading a book. The Theory and Practice of Oligarchical Collectivism, it was called. Groggily, you ask the man what he's reading.
  
  "Ah, morning, stranger. I'm reading a book from a man who's got the right idea. This man, Emmanuel Goldstein, he's been a light for those who never liked the Party."
  
  From what little you've experienced of the Party, you've already had enough. You ask the man if he has another copy of the book.
  
  "Indeed, I do. one of several copies we've been receiving this week. That'll be 3 dollars please."
  
  Only three dollars? Without hesitation, you take the book.
  
  "Was this book really worth the attention you've got from the Party?" asked the man
  
  Before you've realized it, men block the entrance of the store, heavy truncheons in-hand. This seems like the end for you. That is, until the man interrupts the commotion.
  
  "I've never been nice to those who are against the Party, however, you haven't truly shown any real interest in throwing away your life. I am going to let you off with a warning. Learn the laws properly, stranger. We can track you anywhere, anytime. We can and will find you. We know you are new to this land, but stay away from this area."
  
  Suddenly, one of the men throws you out of the door of the shop. You briskly walk away, with your heart racing. Who were they? Were they a gang working for the party, and you were invading their turf? You continue to walk, knowing that the only reason they let you go is because you didn't know enough to be a threat.
  
  > Moment of Understanding
  The day is just starting, but you already feel drained. You've spent a day and a night in this land, and you've already had your fill. The grimy and quiet towns of the Outer Party were too boring for your tastes, and the privacy of the proles was an illusion. You realized that you are in a place where you cannot win. Slowly, you go to the nearest pub and order something to eat. All they have is soup, but you gulp it down. You haven't eaten at all yesterday, so you needed all you could get. After cleaning your bowl, you pay your bills and leave. You go straight to the Ministry of Truth, ready to meet your friend on the inside.
  
  You are in front of the building. It's a monstrous building, looking like it could fly to the moon if the Party needed it to. Your eyes are drawn to the entrance. Your friend is there, looking at you with a slight smile. He greets you.
  
  "Hope you remember me..."
  
  And of course, you do. That was Syme. A literary genius in the eyes of the Party. He was responsible for the ongoing destruction of Old English, and replacing it with Newspeak. He guides you inside and plops you down inside one of the offices. There wasn't a registration. Maybe Syme already applied for you.
  
  "You were gone for some time"
  
  You couldn't disagree. You became too involved looking for a safe space from your work that you skipped the first day of the job and didn't realize it. Syme plops you down into a seat and explains what you're doing. It only took a few minutes to get going but you realize what you have to do. You're changing articles from the past to match the way things are today. Why would the Party need to do this? Are they afraid of being seen as liars? They have nothing to fear, because they have the firepower to overthrow any resistance. They're doing this to keep the trust of the people. You didn't realize, but you've been changing several articles without realizing it. Your angry thoughts took over, while your body did the work of the Party.
  
  > RESISTANCE
  Your day at work ends, and you don't go home. You go to a pub in the slums. The proles singing and enjoying alcohol being supplied by the Party. The telescreen continues spewing nonsense, and you're wrapped in your own thoughts. What is this? Why is the Party doing this? Should I get out? What will happen to me if I get caught trying to rebel? Should I ask?
  
  Several thoughts run through your mind. but you think that it might be time to cut and run. But you didn't know how. Maybe you could incite a riot, or set a building on fire. Your anger is taking you places you didn't know you could go. You feel like you could throw acid into a child's face if you had to. Your anger takes you home, ready to sit in the corner of the room, away from the telescreen. You think of ways you should resist the Party. Eventually a knock at the door startles you. You answer the door, with a piece of bread in your hand. At the door was that small shop owner. You didn't recognize him at first, but the victorious smirk on his face made you remember.
  
  "Stranger, I came to check up on you. Your productivity today was astounding, especially for someone on the first day on the job. The Party commends you for your efforts. You've got the attention of a few upper-class Outer Party members, they think your energy is doubleplusgood. Looks like you've learned the general way that things are. We wish for your assistance in being an example for those who choose not to see the benevolence of Big Brother."
  
  You've got two immediate options. What if you give it to that old man? Let him know that you don't want to look at his face after taunting you with that book. Or, go deeper into the system. You can see how things are done to those who get caught rebelling, and possibly start a revolution from the inside.
  
  > punch the old man
  In a calm yet furious movement, you take a swing at the old man. Astonishingly, he dodges to your right. Faster than you can pull back your fist, your elbow gets smacked by a black truncheon. You fall from the shock of pain, landing heavily on your knees. Two guards dressed in all black, small fur on their knuckles that are wrapped around their weapons, appear from your left and right. You look at each guard with eyes of a lion. They return neutral stares, while the old man addresses you.
  
  "I'm glad you've brought out this anger now. We can think about what we wish to do to you..."
  
  > Aftermath
  Aftermath of Incident
  
  Subject: [REDACTED]
  
  Crime: Assaulted Thought Police
  
  Status: unperson
  
  Burn paper after reading