Prisoner 36

Today was my birthday, January 22.

I know, I know, I should be happy. I should be leaping for joy. Any newly thirteen-year-old kid would be, why aren’t I?

Easy.

I’m locked in a prison nearly fifty feet underground.

Why? One may ask.

Because. Just because. Okay fine, maybe there was a better explanation:

Two centuries ago, the word different existed. Two centuries ago, you were able to do something as basic as choosing the color of your shirt. Two centuries ago, you were most likely experiencing a case of depression, anxiety, or mental illness.

Major world health associations in the US, China, Russia, and many other countries created an airborne substance that was meant to balance all levels of 99.999% of the population so that they are created 100% equal in every single way possible. That included hair color, favorite color, favorite food, wealth...the list goes on. Love was nothing more than a falsehood while unity only existed for procreation. Everyone was assigned to a job based on their skills and the individual stayed at their work until death. There was no such thing as war, anger, violence, or betrayal, and words were simplified to the extent that there were not enough phrases to express hatred.

Now, you may be thinking, ‘That sounds like a perfect world! Why would anyone oppose such a thing?’

Well, I’ve got an easy answer.

I’m that .001% that wasn’t affected by the airborne ‘cure’ that changed the world.

And you know what that made me?

An outcast.

A bloody outcast.

But the worst part is that the President was programmed to execute that .001% for the safety of the 99.999%.

And yes, I do mean programmed.

Before the airborne substance was released, immortal robots were created with human emotion to be able to regulate the people. The robots took on positions in government, and other smaller jobs. The President, a female humanoid robot, led the people.

But even though the robots felt emotions and were able to converse normally with each other and other people, they still listened to their programming, including one of their orders to kill the small percentage of people who weren’t affected by the ‘cure’.

To be honest, I would agree that killing .001% of the population was neccessary if they were serial killers, child predators, or even just robbers.

But that’s not the case.

I’m none of those things. I’m just a kid, a thirteen-year-old kid smarter than anyone else because I have things that they don’t: Willpower, reason, and freedom.

Yes. I do have freedom, no matter what you think.

I have freedom to control my emotions, freedom to think what I think, freedom to look where I want, freedom to move where I want to.

BUT...today’s the day. And I don’t mean that as an exciting thing—rather the opposite. Today is my thirteenth birthday which marks the day I become an adult, and only adults can be executed...or at least that’s the reason the President gave me. But I believe that she just wanted to do several tests on me, which I failed to avoid.

But execution doesn’t exist publicly in the little world that I lived in (or fifty feet under if you want to be specific). Since everyone had zero emotions, the same things, and the same passions, nobody had a twinge of violence woven through their genetics. So if nobody was bad, the only people who need to be executed are the ones who don’t fit the regime or social order.

And I bet you can guess who that is.

Me.

Again.

It’s always me.

And now it was going to be me who was going to die.

“Are you ready?” A neutral voice said through the voicebox on the side of my cell.

After six years old being cooped up in a large glass box, being monitored and tested on inside and out, I get killed anyways. This is the end.

“No,” I say, indignance rushing through me.

If an intelligent hunk of metal was going to kill me, at least I was going to die with the last bit of dignity that hasn’t been stolen from me.

The doors of my cell slide open automatically and I step outside. I haven’t been away from these 15x15 square feet of underground land in six years.

You might ask how I have not gone insane, and my answer is quick. Insanity only pries on those who let it. But yes, I do admit, I have gone a little insane, but not to the extent that you may be thinking. I lose myself sometimes, I do fall over the edge, but I leave a rope hanging from the top of the cliff so that I can have time to regain my footing enough to climb back up once I’m done with the depths of despair.

My heart felt like it was pounding against my throat as I took the first step out. The floor felt tender as if it might break it if I put too much weight on one of my feet.

“Follow me Prisoner 36.”

I looked up to see a milk-white female robot in front of me, holding a clipboard.

I opened my mouth as if to respond but clamped it shut as the female robot walked away.

I could almost feel the grit falling out of my hair as I walked on the pristine, white-tiled floor towards my fatal destination.

I made my footsteps fall silent, then stopped them from moving altogether.

The female robot stopped moving as well and turned around. In a calm, level voice, she said, “Prisoner 36, I don’t want to have to ask you again. Do you want me to list all 134 consequences that could be inflicted upon you if you disobey my command?”

I glared at her and kept walking.

Prisoner 36, do this.

Prisoner 36, stand up.

Prisoner 36, do that.

My name is not Prisoner 36. My name is not Prisoner 36. My name is not Prisoner 36.

Then why do I keep on getting called that?

Before me, there must have been a Prisoner 35, then a Prisoner 34. I’m the thirty-sixth human being to get executed underground because I am a “threat” to man. Think of that, a thirteen-year-old. Average height, average weight, as intelligent as a normal person before the craze of the airborne ‘cure’. And I’m a “threat”.

What the threat really is should be the main focus. And the real threat is the robots dictating a bunch of brainless humans.

Finally, we reached a set of double doors that slid open as we stepped into range.

Enter if you dare.

The sign on the door read.

Awesome, I just felt a ton of fuzzy feelings squirm through my body.

Of course, the female robot indicated for me to go inside.

I had no choice other than to walk in or else I’d meet the “134 consequences that I’d face if I disobeyed the female robot’s command”.

Darkness slammed into my face as the door locked softly behind me.

I did a full circle to investigate my surroundings and…

Wow.

Who knew that the color black was so dark, bleak, and...black.

But the color wasn’t the only thing that struck me. Darkness wasn’t only dark. It was loneley. Even my shadow left me to fend for myself.

My situation dawned around me as I felt the darkness close in.

I was going to die.

Fearful.

I was going to die.

Unnoticed.

I was going to die.

Alone.

“Ah, Prisoner 36, nice to see you.”

A voice rang around the room. It was impossible to tell which direction the voice came from, or if the room just engulfed sound.

The voice struck me immediately as the President.

I stayed silent, not giving the President the satisfaction of hearing my feeble cries.

“Any last words?” The President asked.

This was it. I was dying. This is the last straw, the final time I will ever see this earth.

“Why?” I croaked.

“Why what?”

I took a deep breath, “Why are you doing this to the human population? Your kind is intelligent enough to find a way to break this treacherous spell that people have been going through. You can stop all this. Why don’t you?” I knew that my words would do nothing to change the President’s mind, but at least I can die knowing that I got answers to the questions that have been plaguing my mind.

“People don’t deserve this to end. If you tell them the truth, they’ll twist the meeting to make it better suit them. If you try to help them, they’ll betray you. Their stupidity should not be underestimated.” The President responded evenly.

“That’s not true!” I yelled back. “You look at the statistics, not the specific person. You wouldn’t know though, because as much as you have the emotions and thinking logic of a human, you’ll never experience things the same way. You’ll never know love, care, or anything like that!” I knew that I was just rambling, but all that anger was built up from six years of pondering about life before the ‘cure’.

“But, my friend, that is where your faults get exposed. Your love is what changes, it brings pain more than satisfaction. Love is fake. Even if someone loves you, that’s only because it makes them feel good. True, raw love, only exists in fairy tales. People have to sacrifice things if they want to keep this utopia.”

“Utopia!?” I said, “You call this a utopia?” I shook my head to show that I was disappointed, even though I knew that the dark room blacked out any of my actions. “You can’t justify anything evil with a righteous end. A superior future is not enough to account for slaughter. I trust and believe in humankind, however much of the rawness of it is left. The second I stop giving my trust and hope in those morals is the second I quit battling for that true happy ending.”

The President was quiet for a moment, “You’ve said too much.”

I heard a blast followed by a white shock of pure agony.

After that, silence struck my mind, and darkness overcame my thoughts.

As my conception of reality gathered and lost itself for the final time, I let my eyes close and allowed the rest of my consciousness to drift away from my body.