Hey there. Just a little oneshot to let you all know I'm still alive. I've got a bunch of ideas, and I'm working on a few of them, I've just been busy. I'll finish them eventually. xD Thanks for your patience.
Thanks to .PhaerynTao. for beta-ing for me so quickly.
I hate this life.
I don't care that it's normal. I hate it. I don't want normal.
But what can I do? No one likes living like this, but we all have to deal with it. If you talk about something better out there, you're ridiculed for being naive. Shunned, even, if you keep it up.
So I've always kept quiet. Suppressed the hope, suppressed the longing. Just like every other merb on the terra. As you grow up, continually ignoring how wrong you somehow know everything is, those feelings start to die. They never completely go away, but you learn to fight any little attempt they may make of resurfacing. By the time a merb has become an adult, they've fully tamed those feelings and they go about their pathetic lives, living each day just as dispassionately as the last.
There has to be something better than this. This isn't the only terra in the Atmos, but we're told that all the others are worse. It's imaginable, I guess, but I don't want to believe it. What kind of world is this, if this is the best it gets? What's the point of going on? We make every effort to remain living, and to keep others alive for all of our days. Then we reproduce, to keep the hopelessness going. Why not just end it?
These thoughts aren't allowed. Even now it feels like a risk to be thinking like this. If the district managers ever found out...
No. They won't find out. It's my mind. They can't see or hear what's going on inside it. I keep quiet, and they don't know.
But what if it's useless thinking this way? Hate is a deep emotion. It leads to doing something about it. If I stop now, and go back to suppressing the ideas, I won't gain a hope that will almost certainly let me down. I don't want to fall hard like that. If I don't build anything up, there's nothing to fall from.
Even so...I might build up something worthwhile. What if, instead of falling, I see something different from the top?
It's become an instinct to push these thoughts of hope away, so I struggle against it. One part of me wants to stop and just fall back into the routine, but another part is almost screaming to be heard, to be free of the control it has over me.
I want to get away. To be independent, to think and do something different than everyone else.
We're not supposed to show individuality. Even when we think we have a special talent or ability that separates us from those around us, they take us to a place with others who can do the same things, to learn how to use what we can do to make a job of it when we're older. There's not a single merb that's completely different than anyone else, and we understand that early on. We're not special, don't try to even think that way. Conform to what you're meant to be: a hopeless little part of a big hopeless mass.
Herd mentality. It's like we're animals. It's making me sick.
Though I'm looking at my parents' names on the Memorial Rock, surrounded by thousands of other names of merbs I'll never know, I can't help but feel that this is useless, too. It's just their names. I could write them anywhere else. But, this is the engraving that, when I first looked at it, finally drove into my mind the fact my parents were actually gone. So, this is the place I go to remember them.
Others think I come here too much. That I shouldn't have been so attached to my parents that I visit every couple of months. Not even family should form that kind of bond. Death is such a common thing, we distance ourselves from each other so it doesn't hurt so much when they're gone.
But, really, it's not so much that I come here to remember them anymore. There's rarely anyone here, and when there is, they don't expect a thing from you. I come here to be alone, when I need to get away from the things I can't stand anymore.
I never stay for long, though. When it's quiet, and you have nothing else to occupy your mind, you start to think about things. Normally, things you don't want to think about. That's why we work hard every day. If you don't tire yourself out by the end of the day, you'll end up having trouble getting to sleep, and that's like an invitation for unwanted thoughts.
Today, I'm daring to think about those things. I'm allowing myself to have an emotion other than resignation, annoyance or fear. What's the reason for those feelings, anyway, without their counterparts? We know there are other emotions. Why can't we use them?
There's a shuffling sound behind me, and I turn to see that there will be a funeral held in just a moment. There's only four, plus the body, but this is normal. Only those who regret the dead's passing are to be a part of the ceremony, and most merbs don't get close enough to anyone else to be missed by many. The usual attendance is just immediate family and maybe an employer or mentor.
One of the four living is a younger merb. I feel a twinge of sadness for him, because I know what he's going through. But I stay where I am, saying nothing, only acknowledging the company's presence with a respectful flick of my ear.
I turn back to continue staring dully at the Memorial Rock. I don't need to see what's going on, I know.
Their words are spoken quietly, and after a few minutes the body is lowered into the fire pit. We don't bury our dead, we burn them. The Deathyard Keepers don't want to worry about fending off the beasts that like to dig for their food. Besides, there's not enough room for the many that come in.
No one cries. It's all very cold. But, again, this is normal.
It shouldn't be normal. We're all used to it, but I don't want to be. I hate this harsh world of ours, and I hate being part of a culture that's apathetic about all of it. There has to be something better.
The ceremony ends shortly, and the four merbs leave. How long have I been here? I should be going, too.
As I exit the Deathyard, my mind is still going at it. It's dangerous, but I've heard of a secret group that believes these same things. A group with hope that's trying to find a way off the terra.
It's forbidden to fly, or even to plan on creating a device that can fly. I know it's been tried. I've read all I could find about it. Every attempt to leave has been a failure, since the energy cannons were set up to shoot them down. But...maybe some have gotten away. News of it wouldn't get out if they had.
I've always been good with machines and vehicles, I'm sure that if I tried, I could figure out how to build such a device myself. But, of course, I knew I never would.
Not much is said about this group, except that if we ever find a member, we're to turn them over to the district managers. The government wants to silence them, saying that it's for their own good. Ha, good. What would they know about good? What do any of us know about it?
I want to find out.
I'm going to find that group. It's going to be hard, and I might be turned in myself if I ask the wrong merbs the wrong questions. But I decide that it's worth the risk.
My heart begins to beat wildly at the thought of such rebellion. What am I thinking? I must be crazy. But this madness is somehow comforting...
Because at least it's not normal.
