A New Reality

A new world. A new life for us all, they promised. A new way of life, a new society, a new economy, a new government system. And they promised the delivery of it all in the new year. Half of the world had waited for this day for months, years, decades.

Of course, we honored and respected those in the centuries before us, the generations of people who did not live to see this momentous occasion. And we pitied the young folk, the children who knew nothing but the corrupt system and war-filled world we lived in. They were young enough where they had no inkling of longing, no glimmer of hope to hang on to. They were unable to grasp the concept of something completely different from the reality they lived in.

But the rest of us, we were desperate. After our ancestors had lived and died suffering in this cruel world, we finally had a chance to better it all. A metaphorical light at the end of the very long, very dark tunnel. We clung to this hope, dreaming and hoping that it would come true. And in just a few hour's time, it would.

The SPAC (Societal Planner and Center) had been raising awareness and money for over fifteen years, growing discretely and cautiously. They had finally gained enough reinforcement to overthrow the current government system.

Unfortunately, many of SPAC's adherents were just regular citizens, such as us. We were unable to help assist the rebellion. We could only take shelter in their homes and wait. Wait and hope.

SPAC could not have untrained civilians in the fray of the fighting, so they suggested that supporters hide in their houses, and wait for the fighting to cease. "You'll know the outcome at midnight," they said, "We'll make sure of it." So we waited. Waited And at midnight, the supporters of SPAC would step outside the comfort and protection of their homes, and look into the sky. And they, we, would see one of two signs. One foreshadowing our everlasting freedom, the other broadcasting our imminent downfall.

It just so happened to be New Year's Eve, when we waited. So while our neighbors and friends were celebrating, throwing parties, getting drunk, trying to block out all the violence of our world with bliss and ignorance, we huddled together in our houses and pretended not to hear the explosions and gunshots that were echoing through the city.

The fighting continued as the night went on. We felt so helpless. Like fish in a barrel. As supporters, we put our faith in this fight, but we couldn't sway the outcome. Our fates were strictly placed in the hands of other people, warriors, no less, but still people. People could fail. People could succeed. It was a war against time for us. All we could do was wait.

We blindly supported rebels, people who in their very nature were destined to fail. Furthermore, we were unable to help them. We weren't contributing to the cause in any way. Well, we were, in our support, but not in a way that actually counted.

We tried not to think about what would happen if the rebellion failed and SPAC was caught. They had operated in extreme secrecy, but there was always the possibility of a spy in our midst. In this case, the leaders would surely be caught and most likely publicly executed in the morning. Held at gunpoint, they would be forced to reveal the names of all their supporters. Whether they would reveal such information would be a surprise for all of us. And not the good kind of surprise.

If the government indeed caught us, we would surely be publicly shammed and banished from society, or even killed to demonstrate a message to every single civilian. It was a risk for all of us, to be supporting such a risky maneuver, but we had been subdued long enough. It was time for the tyrants of our lives to hear our voices.

If we win the fight, if the SPAC logo is shone into the sky when the clock strikes twelve, our lives would change forever. We would be forever free from the dark, dangerous society we were forced to live in. As open adherents, we would be honored by all other civilians. We would be placed in a higher place than our neighbors and friends, who were partying the night away as the war went on behind their backs.

None of us knew what would happen. The government was strong. They had fear on their sides. Although no one admitted it, we were all afraid of them. They were able to wrangle the society through many centuries, controlling our ancestors, and forcing us into submission. On the other hand, our rebels had hope. Hope, the one thing that could defeat fear. They were good fighters, we had seen them training. They were determined to fight for their rights. SPAC was ready to win the war, or die trying.

There was no way for us to affect the outcome of the battle. All we could do was wait. We constantly checked the time. We waited for hours upon hours, waiting for the twelve strikes of the clock, the signal that the fighting was over. As the sky got darker, and the clock hands inched towards the 12, time seemed to move even slower. 

We couldn't bear the thought of all that was happening. There were people at the exact moment fighting for their lives. There were people taking their last breath, shouting their last battle cry, pulling their last trigger. And here we were. Staring at a clock, waiting for it all be over.

At one point, we entertained the idea of passing the time outside. If we were outside, we would immediately know when the sign was shown in the sky. However, going outside would mean leaving the safety of our house. We decided to stay inside and just run out at the clock strike. 

The last few minutes and seconds passed at a snail's pace. In just a few seconds, we would know. It would all be over.

10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1... Welcome to the new world.