Monday, 6:20 AM:
*beeb beeb beeb*
This is the typical annoying alarm clock beep, which is just perfect for waking up - I hate this sound. I should stand up now. Because if I don't, I will be late for the morning roll call and the parade at school. And this means no good. I changed into my school uniform and prepared for the day, or should I say the week?
"Have a nice school week, Robin!" my mother said goodbye to me. "Thanks! See you on Friday evening!"
I left my house and made my way to the train station. On weekends, I stayed in our house with my family. The district I live in is known as GF-Suburbs, within the G-District of Clontony City, which is in the BI-Province within the larger D-Region. The organization of the country progresses from the smallest subdivisions to larger regions. The "G" in GF-Suburbs stands for the G-District and the "BI" in front of the BI-A7 highway and the BI-B89 road stands for the BI-Province, meaning that these roads are located in the specific provinces. It doesn't sound very simple, but once you get it, it's easy to understand. The names aren't very creative, but the districts and regions are sorted alphabetically, as are the provinces. It's something that bothers me a bit, but it's not so much that I would hate it because it's efficient, I guess?
As I made my way to the train station, I thought about what this week would be like: Will there be any arrests this week? Or, to put it in government-friendly language, will there be a public figure transported to a re-education camp to reflect on his or her actions - yes, of course! They will torture them without any consideration! But what the hell, I can't do anything anyway.
When I arrived at the train station, I took subway line 19 and got on. The train moved on and we entered a tunnel. After about 13 minutes we came out of the tunnel and were in the G district. It was much bigger than a suburban district would look like, but it was too small to be called downtown. The tracks were now on a bridge and we were basically on elevated tracks in the middle of the district.
There were plenty of high buildings, roughly 60 to 80 meters tall. On one of these buildings, at a major street intersection, there was a relatively large screen showing the news of the day and later how our invincible army would protect us. In the background of the screen, soldiers were marching and saluting our great leader, Emperor Marcus Holitonia.
Then we passed a large park. And in the middle of that park was something.
In the center of every District, looming high above all other buildings around a big area stands a statue of the great Emperor himself. His cold, hard eyes seem to follow you wherever you go, his outstretched hand beckoning you to bow down in worship. Pictures of him are plastered on every street corner and public building, his symbol emblazoned on flags and banners.
The cult of personality surrounding the Emperor is absolute, and his word is law. His every utterance is treated as gospel, and those who speak out against him are silenced with brutal efficiency.
Two blocks further, we find the ISB (Imperial Security Bureau) G-District HQ.
Speaking of intelligence: The government has created a sense of fear and paranoia among the people, with informants on every street corner. Neighbors are encouraged to spy on each other, and those who are suspected of disloyalty are swiftly arrested and disappeared.
7:51 AM: Robin arrived at G-District Boys Main School 8 and stood in front of the main entrance gate.
So from now on I, the storyteller, will tell you about this worlds schools:
The schools, resembling more barracks than institutions of learning, are the perfect breeding ground for obedient citizens. The genders are segregated, reinforcing the government's gender roles.
There are three types of schools, each serving a specific purpose in the government's scheme. The school of third, a dumping ground for those deemed unfit for the other schools, is a place of hopelessness and despair. Most of them will end up as maids and butlers for high society or as cheap labor.
The main school, attended by the majority of students, serves as a means to mold them into obedient citizens who will serve the government without question in the e.g. army, public sector, or other services.
And then there is the High school, the exclusive school for the elite, where only the top 2% of students are allowed to attend. Here, the government handpicks the brightest minds, shaping them into the next generation of loyal government officials, enforcers, and scientists. The scientists are pushed to their limits, constantly pushed to develop new technologies e.g. Military machines to further the government's power and control over the populace. The other students, who don't have brilliant skills in science, technology, or economics will most likely serve as high-ranked officers in the imperial army, police force, or the ISB.
During the week, students are forced to spend their time on the school grounds, with no escape from the government's watchful eyes. Their only reprieve is on the weekends when they are allowed to return home.
In addition to that, after you have finished school, as a man, you have to absolve military service for 4 years. As a woman, you don't have the freedom to elect the way in your 2 years of service, but you will be assigned based on your skills. The options go from being a nurse in the hospital to working in a factory, but the work is grueling and the pay is minimal.
But sadly for the government, its grip on the minds of the people is not absolute. Despite the constant propaganda and indoctrination, some resist the regime in their hearts. They know the truth about the government's oppression and terror, but fear for their lives keeps them from speaking out. The smallest hint of dissent can lead to imprisonment, torture, or worse. The people live in a constant state of fear, knowing that the government's watchful eyes are always upon them.
The regime's brutal enforcers and soldiers roam the streets, reminding everyone of the government's iron grip on power. Some people are left to wonder if there will ever be a way to break free from the oppressive regime that has consumed their lives.