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Greta's Journal

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8th Day, 3008

We aren't allowed to talk anymore, she said we brought it upon ourselves, this punishment. Vile words and accusations, violence ensued, people were killed, tragedy. The Matron then decreed,"Cover your mouths or your tongues will be cut from your head."

She could speak, hers was the Only Voice, the Voice of Reason, the Voice of Rule, the Voice that seeped into our psyche every night "abide, behave, remain...."

I remember the bloody day like it was yesterday, but truly it has been twenty. It was all the cause of the man and the woman trying to break free, the words, the loudness, the treason. What is a man if not a tool? The Matron always said. But the woman who fell and caused a massacre was a fool. I knew her, she was my own blood relative, and now to bear the shame, our household wore face masks stained in the blood of the dead as a symbol of our failure.

And we all lived in silence. No voices, no music, not even the birds chirped anymore, the few species that survived the Great Explosion. The Matron has a daily Walk, so we are all required to be in front of our homes 2 hours before sundown, us with our stained masks that reek of death and the clan next door with their pristine white, lilac scented, cloud soft, dainty mouth covers. They always look at us, signing "Good Tidings," with their long graceful fingers. Mother merely nods, we aren't allowed to sign to others for one hundred more days. I don't care to sign, I want to scream.

9th Day, 3008

I don't know why I've taken up this habit. The sound of the lead scratching against coarse paper makes me irritable. At least in the privacy of my cold, bare room I can take off the mask and look in the mirror. What do I see? A pale face, tired, confused, angry. Dry lips and drier throat, all the words just dried up. Then I look away. Because they used to say, "You look so much like your sister."

16th Day, 3008

What possessed her to do it? "Love," she said, possibly the last word I ever heard her say. She was in love with the man, and that was not allowed. Why? No one has ever loved a man, a man was merely a cow, to be milked, to use his seed to create others like us in the Great Dome, where the white coats toiled to ensure there were no more defects. After the Great Explosion, the world was almost empty and The Matron always said,

"It is our duty to make the land thrive again, alive again, the Mothers Before started to rebuild and we now, must continue, this is the way."

20th Day, 3008

I have been busy. We are clearing out all of her things. The few belongings she left behind. I found a letter from him, written in blood on a scrap of dingy cloth. "Tomorrow, set me free." I knew it was a bad idea when she got her white coat.

21st Day, 3008

I had another night dream, she was running towards me, I was running towards her, neither of us slowed our pace, yet the distance between us remained so vast, I thought that we would crash into each other, that we would fall unto green grass, and laugh at the sky, but we didn't. Couldn't. There was only running, her to me, me to her. My twin.

35th Day, 3008

When it happened it was a beautiful day. Clear sky, a festival in the square. There was so much noise. I heard singing, I heard laughing, I heard girl children squealing as they held hands and spun in a big circle, child's play. There was joy.

Then the Big Horn sounded, and the doors of the Dome burst open in flames, and she was in the front and he was two steps behind, his brothers closely following. There were screams as they drew closer to the square, women scattered, the Matron's guards with their long braids and matte black guns swooped down. "Freeze!" yelled some. I remember her face and her wide, scared, gray eyes, I remember her reaching for his hand and him grabbing on to hers. I remember the angry faces of the other men, and his face as he watched them lunge into the crowd grabbing women and shoving them down. "No! NO!" his voice was a lion's roar, but it fell on deaf ears. "Brothers! NO! We are free! Let them go!" The sound of guns firing, I saw the first drop of blood burst through broken skin, it was hers. Her blood, her chest, the bullet found its mark. "TRAITOR!" yelled the masses. So much noise. Her white coat turned red, and she was still breathing when i reached her side, chaos around me. He was dead already, bullet to the head. "Why? WHY?" I cried as tears drenched my face and blurred my vision. She looked at me, my mirror, my opposite. "Love."

40th Day, 3008

Today, without a doubt,I will scream in the Matron's face.

*****

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