The Whatever Files

Larger Sibling

It was a bright cold February Day, and the radio alarm clock was playing an approved tune. The time was thirteen o clock. Winston Smith reached out and hammered the top of the alarm vigorously with his fist. Despite being smashed to pieces, the radio continued to play, Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb...

A harsh voice barked from the Alexis.

"Unmutal behaviour, communal property damaged. Fined 1000 Gift Points. Get up Number 9."

Winston groaned. It was the same every day. Dragged from his bed to eat bad food, drink ground acorns masquerading as coffee, and work in the Department of Large Truths.

Looking at his bedside table he was surprised to see the Fool's pencil, which had not been there the night before. Winston did not like change. Everything changed all the time here.

A huge telescreen dominated one wall of his tiny apartment. At the moment it was displaying a Large Truth:

THE PAST MUST BE SACRIFICED FOR THE SAKE OF THE FUTURE

As he watched, the message dissolved, and the all too familiar face of Larger Sibling appeared.

Winston hated Larger Sibling, though he was careful to conceal it.

Like everyone and everything else, Larger Sibling had no past, except the OFFICIAL PAST, but Winston remembered all the same. How it had all started so innocently. Silly messages on a website Newsfeed, advertising The Whatever Contest. Giving away Merit Badges, and Gift Points, building a following.

All the signs had been there, an ego that required Airport Hangers, to hang out in. Delusions of Grandstand. Flirting wantonly with so many genres.

Who knew it would lead to this? A nightmare world where only approved music is played, that being only those submitted to The Sound & Vision Contest. A world where no emotions could be shared, unless sent as a heartfelt message with a Merit Badge. And then you'd get back 5K more GP's than you spent on the badge. The horrors went on and on.

"Prisoner 9, you are day dreaming. Write something now. You write now, or something very painful happen. Write. Write!"

Winston was startled out of his reverie. Reaching for the keyboard, he signed and began composing an entry to advertise The Whatever Contest.