27th July 2018

Dystopia

I approach the bridge, just a slab of concrete looming out at me from the gloomy, darkened sky. The black water swirls beneath, seemingly an endless void. In the distance, a factory pumps smoke out of its many chimneys. A traffic officer, just finishing up for the evening, throws a glare in my direction, a signal for me to stop lurking around. I take the stairway leading down to the water’s edge. It is slippery and rusted, making for a dangerous decent. I wander along the path if you could even call it that. No one comes down here, so my feet sink into the muddy ground. A figure emerges from the dark, her silver satin dress just visible through the gloom. Nervousness creeps into my stomach. I don’t have what she wants.

My nostrils fill with the smell of antiseptic. My head aches as I glance around the small room to get a better idea of my surroundings. A single table stands near the metal bed, gleaming in the dim light. I make my way to the door and out into a corridor. It is eerily quiet and the dim lights are flickering. Room 146, that’s where I am. More windowless rooms follow on each side of the corridor, all empty. The room I come across next is white, clean, perfect. Almost too perfect. Trays of surgical tools line the walls. A woman stands in the centre of the room, facing away from me, gazing out over the city through a huge window. She stands as if she is expecting me. Her sleek black hair contrasts against the pure white of her dress. The woman turns, and I realise it is her. The woman from the bridge.

She beckons me, and I follow her back out into the corridor. I ask her who she is but there is no reply. She doesn’t even flinch. We turn a corner and there is another woman standing there. The same woman. “Don’t bother asking her questions, our technology is not yet advanced enough for her to speak.” I look at her in confusion.

“Your technology?” The lady laughs.

“Yes, we specialise in creating holograms.” Now I see it. Every so often she flickers. It’s barely visible. So many questions are flying through my head. Who is this woman? Why am I here?

“I’m sure you have many questions. I assure you they will be answered soon.” It was as if she had read my mind. We continue walking down the endless labyrinth of corridors.

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Category

Writing