The regime

Excitement. Peace. Happiness. These were the things that Jack Lawrence had felt since he was young. And he knew where his loyalties lie as well. He knew that the Regime was good, that it was all powerful, yet all gracious. He knew all that. But that all shattered one day. He was working in his office, filing some papers. He was happy, as usual. The golden halls of his office were shining, his several employee of the month citations were hung proudly. He was humming a melody he had heard on “its a joy” a few weeks before. His suit was as clean as he could keep it. He often tried to look like Mr. Carter Wells from “It's a joy”. He sometimes allowed himself to watch shows like that (state mandated of course) on his off time. But that day, his radio was off. He was content enough to just have the soft ringing in his ears. Suddenly, without even the slightest warning, he felt ill. This sometimes occured when he hadn't taken his (state mandated and encouraged) pills. He chuckled it off and went to his desk. He opened his drawer, but found none of the usual containers. For one of the first times in his life he felt a pit in his stomach. He felt…fear! He gasped and covered his mouth. His once golden walls were now a dilapidated, moldy gray, and his citations weren't there at all! He knew what this meant. It took everything in him not to scream. He ran to the window, and pulled the curtains open. Instead of the usual,happy, and carefree sky was now a gray and smog filled sky. The posters screaming the Regime's praises were all torn and flapping in the wind. He rubbed his eyes but saw only depression. A few public safety enforcers were beating a sickly looking man. He gasped and fell backwards. The beeper frightened him, saying “administrator Lawrence, you are due for a health inspection, please report to room 910, in the department of public safety building.” Lawrence got up, straightened his suit and, and put on a smile as wide as his mouth could go, but it was a hollow one. He started out for the building, thinking, telling himself he was indeed happy, and that the regime would never allow this much destruction and terribleness to happen. He smiled at the thought,genuinely. He knew he would live. But a thought began nibbling at the back of his head saying “no one ever comes back from their health inspections. You are going to die lawrence.” but another thought, a happy thought. “The regime is good.the regime is great. I am going to be okay. I am happy. I have nothing to fear. I love the regime”