The Enclave: Part 2

I don’t remember whether it was the largest or the second largest closet of the whole enclave. Regardless, it was definitely not a short and simple tale the files there told. Careful not to disturb anyone inside the building, I gently opened the closet’s door. There was a lot to go over, so I took folders out one by one.

A couple of years before I got an enclave access pass, there was a man of conventional society appearance who joined the society. Initially polarizing, he nonetheless rapidly climbed the society’s upper ranks. But not everyone was pleased.

Sophisticated and intelligent, he also had an ego fed by his resulting superiority complex and a dishonesty streak. It didn’t take long for certain people to pick up on these qualities of his - especially after his numerous spectacularly failed attempts at courting fellow society members. Things came to the point people believed he possessed strong sociopathic traits.

In some ways, his past plight resembled my own at the time.

Both of us had character flaws which were severely exaggerated by both the opposing forces of paranoia and sadism, depending on which society member was put into question - although my flaws were more those of naivety than his. We both ended up ostracized and forced to use enclave access passes out of others’ bitterness.

However, his story ended very differently. Even though he turned out to be far worse than me, even as he demoralized one of the most prestigious society factions from being able to hold down conversations which could involve everyone there and egregiously talked trash behind people’s backs, he still managed to win virtually every society member back over.

I still don’t fully understand how he did it. Maybe it was the natural charisma he always had. Perhaps it was his worst rivals being humiliated on the covers of and within the most sought out society newsletters.

Either way, I decided to check the files dated after a certain fateful day in July. Being a former society associate and enclave witness, I had been sworn to secrecy about naming names. I fear exact and close dates will only create the same results.

I went through the last folder I found. Nothing. Just an anticlimactic indicator to mark the case set as neatly resolved.

Maybe there’s something else in the other cabinets or drawers, I thought.

I used the scanner tool which hung close to the Summer drawers and typed in any keywords that could relate to the [Redacted] closet situation. Each file in the enclave had a sensor; if the scanner’s input matched anything written in the files, the surrounding area would light up. Still nothing.

In spite of all that I had found, in spite of managing to uncover many of the fronts society members would put on for the public, I couldn’t find anything particularly useful to help me. What was I supposed to do? Stay quiet, try not to sound like Summer and burn my last remaining bridge with the only real ally I had at this point because of others’ tensions?

My last few days in the enclave went by in a blur. I can remember the broad strokes of heated confrontations and sneaking back into the library when I could to refer back to the files I found, but that’s about it. Soon enough, my access pass was revoked and I was kicked out for good - left to pick up the shattered pieces myself.

I never did end up as a cover girl for any of the newsletters that were released after my departure. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for being granted the mercy of not being one. But another part of me isn’t tempted by the cold silence.

I come across the society newsletters every now and then. About half a year after I had left, I was briefly mentioned with a nickname in an exposé on a youth chaser. It seems at least a few people still remember me - if only like a phantom whose former presence creates the air for more tangible things to occur.

Because a lot has changed since I had the access pass. After my full banishment, the society slowly started to fall into more and more disarray. Skirmishes which were typically squashed before increasingly riddled the newsletters, and the reputations of respected members were starting to be genuinely questioned.

This culminated in an administration overhaul which saw two new leaders. Only one of them seemed to be at least adequately competent, and they aren’t the one who stayed. While many key details will never be known to the public or likely to me, one thing I know for sure is that the enclave’s library has a lot more files to store away.

I never saved a copy of any of the enclave files other than the ones directly involving me. Sometimes I wonder if I should have. Maybe I’d be able to find something one day that I could weaponize against the man who pulled the strings to get me dragged into the secret vicinity in the first place. I’m only a degree or two separated from certain members, after all.

But another part of me feels blessed to not bear living with tangible proof of my eternal knowledge. At least I can fill my mental gaps with my tainted imagination instead of detailed secrets I’ll forever have no one to turn to about.

For now, ignorance is bliss.

{I recommend reading part 1 to get the story first. Otherwise, the TLDR is that there is a society with a hidden room set called the enclave to control conflicts, an old friend with a dual personality, and a monotone woman with dark looks and mannerisms who made the bulletin headlines.}

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Part 2 Medium version: https://medium.com/@SnarkyLisa/the-enclave-part-2-2a9db3a2cce7