As the first prole to visit the Ministry of Love, it seems fitting that she's pregnant. He always told her that hope lay in the proles because of their ability to be truly alive and to reproduce. Of course she's probably not the first prole to come down here. She knows that they torture war criminals here. Her own brothers were drafted into the army and based on what he told her about all three countries being pretty much the same, she has no reason to doubt that the other countries draft proles as well, I only into the lowest ranks, meaning there have probably been hundreds if not thousands of proles hung down here. Still, she has two unique distinctions. First, she is the first female prole, since Oceanna doesn't draft female proles, therefore she can assume that the other countries don't either. Second and most notably, she's the first prole from Oceanna itself to be brought down here, not as a prisoner of war, but as a political prisoner.
As she sits in the barren white cell where it's blindingly light, she thinks back on how she got here. Less than eight months ago, she was just an average prole, the kind that never end up down here because they pose no threat to the Party. She cared more about what shade her lip-color was and the newest song on the telescreen than what was happening to the Party or who they were at war with. Of course she also cared about her family. That was a given. At least she would have thought so before, until she met him and he told her about his wife, who he only lived with because of their baby daughter. She had cringed at that. Her husband had been the most important person in her life. Had been. He'd been killed by a rocket bomb on his way back from the docks one day.
Before her husband was killed and she met him, her life was simple. She'd gotten knocked up when she was fourteen and married the father who was eighteen at the time. He was the oldest child and she moved in with him and his parents and 8 younger brothers and sisters and had her baby girl. And for a while, life was good. She had gotten up early and helped her mother-in-law stoke the fire before getting dressed and painting her face. She had then spent her days running errands or helping with chores or visiting her mother and older sister, who often enlisted her help for errands and chores, all the while with her little girl in her arms.
That all changed once he died. She got a job currying black market goods for her brother. She always carried her baby girl with her. The poor child had been only 10 months old when her father died. That was how she met him. He was a member of the outer party who had seen what was going on and wanted to stop it. He'd come, like others before him, to the conclusion that if there was any hope, it lay in the proles. Unlike those before him, however, he'd actually tried to do something about this realization. Perhaps he wasn't the first one. Her father-in-laws father claimed a party member bought him a beer once and peppered him with questions about whether or not life before or after the revolution was better.
None the less, it was the first time it worked. He had started by having an affair with her. She met him in her small at least once a week, except when he was busy at the ministry, like the period leading up to hate week, or when they switched enemies. They made love while her baby girl slept in the next room, and he told her about the party and about how it was controlling their lives. He told her about his goodthinkful wife who couldn't stand his touch. He told her about how the lottery was a sham and how the party hadn't really invented airplanes and how the enemy had switched for Eurasia to Eastasia. And she listened. And that was all he needed.
The thought police found them out eventually and they were both taken to the Ministry Of Love and separated. Now she's sitting and waiting. Presently the door opens and the guards walk through and grab her arm and she doesn't resist. Her little girl was with her mother when they were arrested. She knows her little girls okay and that lends her strength. She also hopes her lover is okay, even if she knows that he probably isn't. And as she walks away she wonders what they hope to accomplish with the beatings. They can't break her, she knows her little girl is safe. Yes they took her lover away to be tortured, but she already survived the loss of her husband and knows she can survive this. And she wonders why they don't just shoot her. They've never asked for her loyalty before.