Status Quo

14 June, Twilight

Panting, Sandra runs through the darkening streets. She has no time to stop and apologise to the trash cans she’s knocked down along the way. Or to the people she unceremoniously bumps into in her sprint. And it has been a sprint for a few minutes now. She can feel her lungs straining and her blood vessels, dilated, flowing with adrenaline and blood. Turning around, she sees some agitated people fluster as they pick themselves or their trash cans up. She returns her gaze to what’s ahead only to see a large white obstruction not one metre from her.

Stumbling into what seems like a washing machine, she rests her hands on her elbows and catches her breath. To stabilise herself, if such a thing is possible at this time, she spreads her legs a little apart. She’s been to this street before: it was were her close friend, Marla, stayed. It’s close to the lane on which her house is. As she regains her breath and lets her lungs take deeper breaths, she closes her eyes. Instead of the customary screen saver of black, she sees flashing colours, extending outwards in concentric circles. Still way more beautiful than fireworks for a national holiday, she thinks to herself.

Smirking, she straightens up her back and looks all around. There are some houses with a flag adorning their yards and some with bright lights. There is no house without such decoration. Everyone celebrates national holidays these days, it would appear. The corners of her mouth curve downward in contempt. She hears a little shriek from the way she came and tenses up.

Four houses away, a little child and their sibling rush out onto the street with a water gun in each hand, aimed loosely at the pursuing sibling.

She relaxes a little.

Still, vigilant, she collects herself and starts walking briskly towards the park that lies at the end of the street. She crosses to the pavement adjoining the park and turns right. To her left, she can hear some noise coming from the park. Groups of youths, men, throng the park, beer cans in hands and singing joyously off-key. Music drifts outwards onto the street from someone’s speaker. It’s some party tune from a party playlist.

For a flash of a second, Sandra is reminded of the oddness of her own behaviour set against the backdrop of the frivolity and joy of those around her. She wonders why she feels some panic, now clearly juxtaposed with the gaiety around. Why do I run while the others cheer, she thinks to herself, a little sadly. The bright summer sky compounds the gaping chasm between Sandra and those around her. She slows down a little to listen to the tune coming out to her. Some pop melody that floods the radio stations wiggles its way into her ear. It’s a long walk alongside the park.

Summer brings with it a whole host of festivities, including the day we currently find Sandra. It’s a week away from Midsummer and a huge festival is planned for that event, too. She hears the laughter of the men in the park and it sets her skin a little on edge, speeding her up a bit. Turning to the left, where the park curves off away from the main street, Sandra crosses the pathway to reach the lane where her house stands. “Free Land Lane”, a bright green sign board proclaims this little lane to be. It wasn’t always named this way. This rename was a part of a large rebrunsd that was rolled out by the present government.

Making her way to the third house on the left, Sandra looks behind her from time to time to ensure she isn’t being followed. Only the music from the park faintly made its way to her. She opens the gate leading into the yard. The yard is a little unkempt, with grasses growing a little taller than regulation would allow for home yards but so far, no one has reported her for it. Nor has she received any warnings in her mailbox.

Hoping to not be disproved, she opens the mailbox to find three letters inside. Gulp.

Sandra pulls them out, stuffs them into a pocket and walks up to the porch. She turns around once again to take in the late evening sunlight and all that it touches. She closes her eyes and is grateful to have reached home safely, despite the running from a few minutes ago. She sighs, relaxing her shoulders and opens her eyes. She surveys the yard – there’s no damage or possessions lying about. It’s a good day.

Just as she’s about to turn around, she sees two figures in bright orange t-shirts walk into the lane.

She quickly spins on her heels, avoids eye contact, and faces her door. She reaches into her pocket which is thankfully shallow. Thanks, sexist clothing standards, she thinks to herself.

She puts the key into the lock, turns it and just as she opens the door, she hears the gate behind her creak open.

She rushes in, slams the door shut and on autopilot, locks the door from within.

With a quick exhale of air she didn’t know she was holding, she slowly puts her right eye to the peephole.

No one outside. The gate is closed. The mailbox is closed.

She wonders for a second if she closed the mailbox and reassures herself that she probably did, just unconsciously.

She pulls away from the peephole to look down the hallway that her house opens into.

Still a little worried that someone might be on the other side of the door, Sandra walks down the hallway and comes into the living room on the left.

For the first time all evening, she smiles.

On the sofa, curled up in a ball with her hand holding a book that seems to have fallen a bit to the side is her closest and dearest companion.

The living room has just the one currently-occupied sofa, a low table and three bookshelves stacked with books collected over two generations at least. The window looking out into the lawn is covered with a thick curtain.

Sandra walks to the sofa and gently places her hand on her companion’s shoulder.

“Whu-?” the sleeper awakes with a start and then looks at Sandra and the features soften.

Sandra leans over to place a kiss on the lips of the one who was recently asleep. She gets up, walks over to the window, pulls the curtain a little to the right and turns around to face her companion, now awake and reading again.

“Been up to much today?” She teases.

“Oh, you know...”

“I missed you out there.” She sighs.

At this, the head looks above the book and directly into Sandra’s green eyes.

“I wish...”

“I know.” Sandra says with a quiet resignation.

Then, almost forgetting, she pulls out the three letters she’d tucked into her back pocket. She tosses them onto the low table.

One of them, sure enough is an Announcement, one is addressed to her companion and the other to her.

Ever since the new government took office, they had been issuing “Announcements” to the general public. Usually indicating that some new rule was put into effect or that something was being repealed, these Announcements had lately come to signal all the festivals rolled out. These festival notices reminded Sandra of pizza parties at her old workplace.

New rules would relate to curfews, currency changes, new software to download onto one’s devices and the like. The Announcements with repealed rules usually came before new rules were put into effect. Rules required complete and total compliance. Failure to comply would mean incarceration at the very least.

Making eye contact, the two room-mates nod and they open the Announcement first.

It was a double whammy.

A new rule was coming into circulation effective that very day requiring all citizens to register all devices onto a newly launched government App calls AllOfUs, where they could vote on, raise questions and participate in local activities arrunsged by the government. Complaints would be addressed in local meetings, the notice says, and people could participate in the active building of a better society along with the government. Sandra scoffs. This seems like the kind of dystopian measure that a government basing its policies off of dystopian novels would employ.

“Uh oh...” Sandra mutters when she’s read through the whole segment.

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

Then she read the rest of the Announcement. To celebrate the launch of this App, it says, people were required to avail the free delivery of some celebratory materials that would be needed for the post-Midsummer festival. “Celebration is mandatory!” read the pathetic slogan.

“Well, they’re giving out free stuff!” Sandra says with mock enthusiasm.

“All is saved!” More mock enthusiasm in response.

They then begin to open their own mail.

Sandra almost chuckles at hers. Her companion blanched at theirs.

Sandra was just about to show the letter and was grinning until she sees her companion’s face and put the letter by her side.

“Marla, what’s wrong?” she asks softly.

Marla, for that is her name, tries to speak but can’t. Her throat is blocked. With anguish, it would seem. Her brown eyes well with tears holding considerable melancholy.

Sandra sits down and puts her hand reassuringly on Marla’s knee, now up to her chest.

Marla puts her head on her knees and sobs. Sandra holds her gently with a sideways hug.

Outside, fireworks have started getting set off. Sandra’s eyes drift almost instinctively towards the curtain. Some flashes of light could be seen against the curtain, even though the sun is still up. She took a deep breath and knew that she made it back in time to the house.

Marla- well, her story will be revealed in its time.

After some time, Marla’s sobbing ceases. She looks up into the loving eyes of Sandra.

“Thanks,” she says quietly, “I just wanted to be sad.”

“I know.” Sandra replies and then gets up and moves towards the kitchen, through the archway that connects the living room to the dining room and kitchen.

She crunches up her letter from the Town Council and tosses it into the trash. She picks up the box of Marla’s favourite tea flavours and brings it back with her to the living room.

“I’m afraid.” Marla says, when Sandra re-enters the living room. She is reading the Announcement for herself.

“What of?” Sandra asks.

“AllOfUs. All of it...”

“We have been able to make it out for so long!” Sandra tries to sound reassuring but her voice falters a little.

It was not easy for the two of them. They had to hide their dissent from their neighbours. They had to stay quiet for so long. They needed to keep their heads down. They had been existing for the past few months, but not really living. There were people in their groups getting rounded up. You know how these stories go.

“What if we can’t any more?” She asks flatly.

“Well, uh,” Sandra begins, “we don’t think about that, remember?”

“Maybe we should, Sandra.” Marla puts her head down and turned away from Sandra.

“What do you mean?” Sandra could feel herself swaying a little where she stood and reached to the wall for support.

“What if, after all this struggle, we just end up getting locked up or fed to the lions or whatever?”

“We need to do this because there are others out there who need us to stand together. The government is only trying to scare us!”

“Well it’s working!” Marla snaps.

Sandra inhales a long, slow breath.“What are you frightened of at this point, Marla? Is it the App?”

“They want us all to register and be good little citizens...”

“That’s not new to us.”

“Yes, but now they want to track our complaints. They’re not actually going to listen to them...”

“I think we both know that.”

“I’m scared that after all this fighting for our liberties, we’ll just be forgotten.”

“We’re not doing this for-”

“For recognition, I know,” Marla cuts her off. “We’re doing this for others to be free.”

“Well, sounds a little like the god-complex, doesn’t it?”

They chuckle and Sandra feels a little tension drop.

“I’m scared because I...” (fireworks goes off) “want... to not have to hide.”

Sandra nods slowly.

“I’m scared because I know that prison awaits me for what I did following my mother’s death. I am afraid, Sandra. I feel that they’re closing in on me. I’m scared for you.” Her eyes well with tears. “Of what they’ll do to you for helping me.”

“What you did was challenge the police officers who-”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that they could just find me. What will happen if they do? They injected me with a sedative to keep me calm when I found out that my mother had been shot by the police for taking out her trash. I am a danger to the system as far as they’re concerned!” Marla’s voice sharply ascends. She could feel herself tense up. “They followed me home, Sandra.”

Sandra glides back to the sofa and holds onto her shoulder. She knew most of the story. She wasn’t aware of the sedative being injected. She knew that Marla loved her mother dearly and was broken when they found out that her mother was simply shot for taking out the trash while she was out at a meeting. The police officer at the time said he thought she was going to fire a weapon.

“You did nothing wrong. Maybe in time, the police will lose interest. There are so many new rules for them to enforce! Like, they’re going to be coming round to people’s houses to ‘trim down the lawn to an appreciable and permissible height’! They still haven’t taken away our right to protest. There are people who want things to change.”

“I know you want to be a part of that but you’re afraid that it will draw attention to me...” she says sadly, eyes still averted from Sandra’s gaze.

“You let me worry about that.” Sandra says and holds Marla’s hands in one of her own.

Marla looks into Sandra’s eyes and can’t help but tear up a bit more.

“I’m just scared... of living like this for the rest of my life. I don’t want to live with this fear.” Marla says at last.

Sandra leans in and kisses Marla.

“I know, love.” She says, cooing almost. “I want things to change. We will find a way. We always have.” Did she wink?

“You’re not seriously talking about high school?”

“Oh yes I am!”

The two of them laughed as the soundtrack of fireworks picks up outside. At last something to celebrate.

“Also! We managed to avoid going into army service. So hey, that’s got to count for something?” Sandra smiles as she remembers that the two of them submitted letters to decline their participation in the Nation’s war effort on humanitarian grounds.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

With the next few rounds of fireworks, the light left the skies. Darkness had fallen on them.

Sandra springs up, tea box in hand.

“So... chamomile? Peppermint?”

“Hibiscus?” Marla asks hopefully.

“You’re in luck!” Sandra beams at Marla, holding the last Hibiscus tea packet in hand.

“You’re the best, Sandra.” Marla blows a kiss at Sandra.

Sandra responds with mock conceit, “Tell me about it.” She taps Marla on her head and goes back to the kitchen.

Marla seems a little more relaxed. She still wears a worried expression on her face though. These were trying times. She had been hiding out in Sandra’s house for two days now. It all happened so fast. The two of them had indeed attended many protests and events rallying for a change in regime. People were starting to become more fearful, though. Rumours were spreading of lock-ups and detentions and deportations and executions. Over the last two years, Marla noticed significantly fewer people showing up to demonstrations. The first to step out were the immigrunsts. Everyone said they were starting to worry about their families. She knew that her own mother was at risk. She goes ahead with the protests because, as she reckoned, not protesting was akin to complete submission. She was raised better than that! WWJED? What would Jyn Erso do?!

This also saddened Marla because she knew that her mother was a target solely because of her activities. The police had been keeping tabs on Marla and Sandra. Two dissidents within a hundred meters of each other. She wasn’t afraid then. She is now.

Amidst the sadness was also a little guilt. Guilt over having joined in the protests, knowing it to be a risk for her mother...

Sandra left her knowing that she was still afraid but a little less tense than before. This wouldn’t be wished away. Nor did she want to do that! She knew that Marla was mostly worried now on her account, despite the multiple reassurunsces. Which did little: she was also wildly aware of this. Sandra sighs as she boils the water.

The fireworks goes off louder now. It feels like they were almost outside her door...

She snaps out of that train of thought and wondered what to do with this new App.

The kettle made its customary “Ding!” and she pours out the boiling water into two cups. One with Hibiscus, the other with Peppermint.

Just as she is about to pick up the cups, she hears another loud crash, figures it was the fireworks and hears Marla call her name.

She puts the cups onto a tray and goes out to the living room, smiling as she enters it.

She looks to the sofa.

Empty.

Her smile falls.

She sets the tray down on the low table. Marla’s book is there, alright.

She frunstically runs down the hallway, enters the bedroom, the entrance for which was opposite the living room. It was as she’d left it before going out earlier in the day. No Marla.

“Marla?!” She screams.

Five rooms in total.

She flings the en-suite bathroom door open. No sign.

She runs back to where the bedroom met the hallway and turned to her left to see the front door ajar. In the darkness of the hallway, she hears the sound of a muffled scream from the right, at the very end of the hallway. Then, without warning, as if led by the dark itself, she sees Marla being dragged out through the front door. She chases after Marla, arms outstretched, only to see her body being dragged along the ground; she is on the lawn, the sound of fireworks going off in the distance. With one last scream, there was an explosion from her chest and she falls to the ground. The unkempt lawn.

Sandra runs towards the body and with tear-filled eyes, looks down upon her companion.

She is horrified to see that her companion’s body had been mutilated.

Her heart has been ripped out. For all that was left was a black cavity.

She holds onto the body and cries. The shadows die down around her.

Two people walk by on the pavement outside her house, glance at Sandra and continue walking hurriedly towards the fireworks.

Celebration is mandatory.

Sorrow is illegal.