Society itself is finally fixed. No one can do bad, but how can you fix a flawed system? You can’t, is the simple answer, but that doesn’t stop the people from trying. Another answer is to punish. Punish the people for bad. Or anything considered bad. Any bad thing, big or little…
14 days…just 14. The number 14 kept dancing around Alfredo’s head as if mocking him. Why 14, and why me? he pondered.
He sat in a cage stacked with many others, enclosed in a large structure called “The Quod,” one of 7 around the world. All for what? he thought. He was in the Quod in the first place for supposedly stealing one piece of paper. His cellmate Alove had just 12 days left. Alfredo recalled a time in 3rd grade when Tim, a classmate of his, stepped on the teacher’s foot. The memories after that were engraved into his head. The crying, the screaming, and then dragging. However, only then did he realize the dangers of the corrupt system.
The life Alfredo had before was rich. Only pure happiness could be achieved in the outside world. The youths on the outside were taught to be only pleasant and kind to others and that no acts of bad behavior would ever be tolerated.
Looking back, Alfredo thought about what he could’ve done differently. Because in fact, Alfredo had taken years of meticulous planning to that very moment, until he slipped.
Alfredo had looked outside of his cell, down the hallway, and to the right. There, as it always was, was an orange door, leading to somewhere, or nowhere. The fact is no one quite knew what was behind the door. Not even the guards.
”Stop, no, NO!”
Alove peered down the hall and Alfredo’s eyes soon followed.
“You can’t, it’s not fair!” another cellmate screamed.
A prisoner dressed in all white was seen dragged down the hall to the right. Right to the orange door. The door creaked open and the prisoner was thrown in. Silence followed, as the crying suddenly ceased.
Now just 13 days left, as night followed.
That night, he was spiraling. Was it me? Alfredo thought. No, no of course not! Deeper into the spiral he went. Was it just a slip-up? No couldn’t be.
For what if Alfredo simply didn’t steal a piece of paper? What if his crime was far more than he had said? In fact, long before this time, he joined AZAIL. He was one of the founding members. The only problem was that social groups were completely banned. So they had to meet in secret to carry out their step-by-step plan: to overthrow the rules. But how could you fix a system that was already perfect? How could you fix something that can’t be broken? How could you fix society itself if it’s supposedly already fixed? The people can’t live with knives to their throat, knowing if they do anything bad, they’ll throw them into The Quod. The AZAIL members needed to fix this, and in secret. Finally, on the mid-steaming day, it began. Step one: complete, step two: complete, and on and on. Though it was challenging at first, each member contributed to the plan, working in near-impossible conditions.
Then the last step came to him Alfredo made a wrong move. The 17th step of the plan had failed, and Alfredo was caught and dragged into the Quod.
He woke up in a sweat. By recalling his old memories, the spiral had gone too far.
“Alfredo!” Alfredo twisted his head at the call of his name. “Your time is up, the guard shouted.
14 days now gone in a snap. “Had it really been that short?” Alfredo thought.
The guard opened his cell door, and Alfredo peered around. Has Alove gone too? He thought at the sight of the now-empty cell.
Finally, like many he had seen before, he was walked to the orange door. However, unlike many others, he did not struggle, cry, or shout. He was compliant. Maybe this was all part of the plan, or maybe the guards are playing right into his trap! Or maybe, maybe, we’ll just never really know. Maybe we’ll never know the AZAIL’s true plan. Maybe we’ll never quite know what Alfredo was thinking when he went into the room with the orange door. Perhaps he never even went through the orange door. The only thing we know now was that Alfredo…..was gone….