A/N This is just a short piece I wrote for an English project that was supposed to be in the style of the author. I don't normally write 1984 stories (or any stories for that matter) but I have been a Fanfiction member for a long time. I love to write but I never like the work enough to post it. Anyway, I'm probably boring you so I'll let you get on. Hopefully it turned out alright!
It was unclear to Winston whether or not he was below ground. Mainly, he remained under the impression that he was but there were times, becoming increasingly less frequent, when he thought he heard some sign of nature. A bird or the rain or some other such thing previously taken for granted. It was at these times when Winston would feel overcome by emotion and if he were in his cell he would put his head on his knees and weep. Of course this couldn't of unnoticed and his private despair would be rudely interrupted by a shrill cry of, "Smith. W. 6079! Keep your face in full view. Control yourself!" and Winston would sit up and wonder vaguely why he had been so upset in the first place.
On one such occasion however, Winston was fully aware that his guilt over his Mother was the cause of his anguish. Consequently, he did not appreciate the orders to 'get a grip' on himself and , rather foolishly he thought afterwards, made what was deemed by the telescreen as an obscene gesture. Winston listened with a morbid acceptance for the tramping of boots. Sure enough they came, accompanied by three pug-faced guards who seized him roughly by the shoulders and marched him from his pristine cell and into the darkened corridor.
When he awoke, Winston was once again blinded by a white light but unable to look away due to the tight bonds encasing his head.
"Do you know why you are here?" O'Brien's baritone voice broke the silence.
Winston attempted to nod but was restrained by whatever it was that attached him to the little camp bed. He opened his mouth to answer but cried out instead as pain shot through his body like a flaming bullet.
"Be aware of your surroundings Winston." O'Brien spoke in an excruciatingly calm voice. "In order to go through life without trouble, one must adapt to one's surroundings. You must look at where you are and who you are with and act accordingly. Let's try again. Do you know why you are here?"
"Yes." Winston's voice came out in a monotone, scratchy from misuse.
"Good. In which case you can put into context this next stage in your learning." O'Brien looked into Winston's face for a time, then apparently dissatisfied with what he saw, struck up an agitated pacing. "Ingrained in human nature is a deep desire to rebel. WE aim to suppress this desire. You understand, Winston, that rebellion is dangerous."
Winston thought about the stories told to young children that spoke of terrible disasters befalling the character who deigned to disobey the authority.
"You do understand this, don't you Winston?" O'Brien said.
Winston thought back to his previous experience in the room with the little camp bed. He had been tortured for both telling the truth and for lying. He was at a loss. "I understand why an active revolt could be a threat to those in power," he said, "but I don't see why merely thinking a rebellious thought but not then acting upon it is dangerous."
O'Brien's hand shot lighting fast towards the dial and Winston briefly saw it turn all the way to 90 before he had to squeeze his eyes shut in an effort not to weep.
"That Winston," O'Brien said softly, "that is why it is dangerous."
Winston blinked away the tears in his eyes but a solitary drop crawled down his cheek and dripped down his chin. "I want to understand," he said, "I truly do, but-"
O'Brien put up a hand to silence him. "Winston," he said, "deep inside our souls we feel that we are different, that there has never been anyone like is and there never will be. I hope you can see the absurdity of this idea."
Winston thought and was shocked to discover that he could see the absurdity of it. This distressed him which obviously showed on his face as O'Brien said, "Good. We can move in. Everyone is the same. We all have the basic need to eat and sleep. Emotions are another thing that make us human although we want to channel these feelings. That way we can control you. Why then do some people refuse to be controlled?"
"Because of free will." Pain shot through Winston once again and he writhed, straining at his bonds.
"No. There is no such thing as free will. We control the people and therefore we control their decisions. People refuse to be controlled because they are not sane. Like you, Winston. I am trying to make you understand that we are helping you. In being one of those insane few, you are in the minority. The majority are content to live without asking questions. So why do you ask questions? What makes you special?"
"Nothing." Winston said, thus sad truth not affecting him as much as he had expected.
"Exactly." O'Brien looked pleased, "Nothing makes you any different to any person that has, is and will ever exist. You will live and die and not have made even the slightest difference to this world. You know this. I am merely putting the facts right where you can see them." He began to pace in and out of Winston's sphere of vision. He stopped abruptly and said, "If I were to tell you that you are now forbidden from blinking until I say, what would you do?"
" I would try not to blink."
O'Brien's hand reached for the dial.
"No! No! I guess I wouldn't blink. Yes, that's right, I wouldn't blink."
O'Brien let his hand fall and said, "Don't blink."
And even though his eyes sting and every fibre of his being just screamed at him to close his eyelids, Winston stared directly into O'Brien's face.
"Good Winston. Blink."
Winston finally granted himself the relief he had been aching for but with it there was a frantic new pulsing in his mind, Don't blink. Don't blink. Don't blink.
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