Doomsday Diary

A red leather-bound notebook sat on the desk in the far corner of the room. Empty tea cups decorated the space and their leftover oolong tea leaves perfumed the air. A heart-shaped locket sat upon the empty coaster of a teacup. The windows were closed and the air was stuffy from the sun’s daily gaze. No one had been in the office for quite some time. It looked as it had before. That is, before The Reading.

Down the hall from the office, a bedroom could be found. A creaky floor. The walls paler than the white they had once been. A small frameless bed dressed with a well-worn pair of sheets. There was a workspace with pages covering it entirely. Images of animals, people, and nature. The paint still fresh on a few. Sitting on the chair adjacent to the table sat Adalyn.

Adalyn was no more than eleven. Her curly walnut-colored hair tickled her ears by its short length. Her face was oval in shape with a marked olive skin. A faded scar was all that remained on her palm after getting hurt two summers ago. The first thing most people noticed about Adalyn were her hazel doe eyes. There was something about their openness that seemed as though Adalyn could see more than what was physically in front of her.

The girl dressed for the day in her denim jeans and a T-shirt that once had a sunflower on it. Now, only pale yellow marks and a hint of brown remained. Adalyn’s mind wandered while she dressed.

She knew the annual Gifting would soon commence. Her stomach felt like an hourglass where each falling grain of sand could be felt. There was no going back. No secret way to be ungifted. Adalyn knew not what happened at The Gifting but she was eager to find out. It was commonplace that The Gifting occurred with only the yearly cohort and of course the Ministers of Commerce, Justice, Education, and Industry. The same Ministers of course who facilitated the subsequent Reading. Today, however, was not that day, so Adalyn made her way down into the kitchen as usual. She ate her hard boiled egg and slice of bread before heading out for the day.

Children, such as Adalyn who had not yet attended The Gifting, were required to take lessons. History, writing, and science were the only fields deemed worthy of teaching. The daily lessons took place not far away in what was once an old church. The building had been repurposed over the years as religion was deemed unnecessary for children to study.

Adalyn made her way to History and sat among the other students. There were roughly forty students all ready and waiting for the lessons to commence. The teacher took his place in the front of the room. Mr. Hanson was a tall, lean man without so much as a distinguishable characteristic about him. He appeared normal...common even. In fact, Adalyn had often confused him for others while about town for he truly had nothing. No birthmark or facial hair. No quick-wit or stutter. He was just another man, this one though in charge of teaching.

“Since our last class, I asked you to read up on the Founders of our community. What did you learn?” asked Mr. Hanson to the class.

A boy named Liam answered. “The Founders created our community in order to protect us from The Opinsec War.”

“Who can tell me about The Opinsec War?”

Ema answered. “The Opinsec War took place between 2035 and 2050. The War began as environmental resources dwindled and countries tried to lay claim to them. With the expansive population and lack of access to clean drinking water and food, the cost was high. Roughly half of the world died through battle and about fifteen percent of the survivors were left unaccounted for. Our Founders worked with the survivors to establish our community. The Founders balanced the community’s needs and things developed from there.”

“Correct,” replied Mr. Hanson. “Who can tell me how our Founders were able to create security?”

“The Giftings and The Readings,” echoed the class in unison.

“Correct.” Mr. Hanson glanced around at the students. “Now all of you will attend this year’s Gifting. That is an honor.” He paused, almost reminiscent of his own Gifting. “I wish you all good luck.”

The long awaited day had arrived. Adalyn, along with the others, were asked to go to the auditorium. It contained two columns of seats divided by an aisle. The ceiling stood taller in this room than others. Most looked up at what seemed like endless space. Two tables sat on the center stage: one covering something with a cloth and one with four chairs. Students walked to their seats and allowed the Ministers to head to the stage. Each took teir respective place.

Tomas Guithe, Minister of Commerce.

Anthea Rhodes, Minister of Justice.

Victor Daillio, Minister of Education.

Maximilian Wiley, Minister of Industry.

After ensuring everyone was seated and accounted for, Tomas stood and spoke authoritatively. “Welcome to The Gifting. As you all know, our Founders created this community following unsettling times. The violence, loss, and self-centeredness during the Opinsec War showed them just what people were capable of. Through our current methods, we have found a way to keep each other accountable while supporting our communities’ needs.”

Anthea stood and made her way to a table covered by a cloth. The students saw stacks of red leather-bound notebooks as she drew back the cloth. Anthea spoke. “Each of you will be gifted one of these notebooks. It is your duty to write in them until the time of your Reading.” Everyone looked at the books confused. Why would writing be so prestigious? many people thought. Why was it such a big secret?

Tomas continued. “Each of you will come upon the calling of your name to choose your notebook. Let’s begin! Ema. Sean. Barb. Liam….”

Adalyn waited until her name was called before making her way up like the others to greet Anthea and select a notebook. Upon closer examination, Adalyn noticed that each notebook was different in its size. Adalyn selected one that was on the smaller side as she wondered how much she would have to say, given that art, not writing, was her primary source of expression.

Returning to her seat, Adalyn held the notebook. She ran her fingers over the hand-stitched leather. Adalyn was so distracted by the details of this gift that she hardly noticed the final names being called.

Victor spoke next which pulled everyone’s attention back to the stage. “You may be wondering what is the purpose of these notebooks.” Heads nodded in agreement. “The Opinsec War taught us that we need to be careful with our resources as corruption can result in tragedy. It is your job then to write and document your thoughts and possible contributions to our community. For now, the notebook is for your eyes only. At The Reading, my colleagues and I will read through your revelations,” he paused, “and decide who deserves to live and will be an asset to our community. Anyone who does not make the cut, will be discarded for the sake of the whole.”

His words brought the quiet room to a deafening silence.

What does he mean about “being discarded”? Does he mean ostracized by the community? Does he mean murder? Adalyn’s thoughts raced and she began to hear nothing but the sound of her own beating heart.

“I know you all must be thinking about what we mean by this and what will make the cut. I want to assure you that every adult you know has been through this process. It is one of the founding elements that keep our community functioning.” Anthea took a look around the room at the confused faces still trying to make sense of the task ahead. “You may have noticed that each notebook contains different amounts of pages. You have selected the time you have before your Reading to prove your worth.”

Tomas chimed in. “This means that those with one hundred pages will have one hundred days from today until their Reading. Those with fewer can expect their Readings to occur sooner.” Adalyn looked at her notebook which now seemed even smaller than it had before. She quietly counted the pages to herself. 30. I have 30 days to prove myself or I’m dead, she thought. Her shoulders tensed and for the first time she noticed how tight her grip was on the notebook.

Maximilian took the stand now and began to speak. He spoke so matter of factly that it was disconcerting. “I am here to answer any and all questions you have about the process. Feel free to ask whatever as your results will only be judged by your writings at The Reading.”

Unsettling silence filled the air. It took a while before someone spoke; Maximilian was patient. “What exactly happens if we don’t pass The Reading?” The girl did not identify herself as she spoke.

“Good question,” Maximilian replied. “If you do not pass The Reading, then you will be cremated and your remains used to help fertilize the grounds for the farmers.” Someone let out a gasp.

“What happens if we do pass The Reading?” asked someone else.

“You will become a full member of our community and use those insights to actualize them. For example, I wrote in my own notebook about how I hoped to increase productivity of workers through the use of incentives. The Ministers at my Reading found my idea to be an asset and I began that initiative not long after my Reading.”

“What happens if I don’t write anything?” A voice said.

“Then you will be seen as lacking anything to contribute to the community and therefore, will be discarded.” Maximilian answered.

“I don’t want to do this,” another said.

“For those who do not wish to participate, you can return your notebook and follow Anthea to be discarded presently. For participants, all notebooks must remain locked and no material should be shared.” No one spoke. Maximilian looked around. Adalyn drew the book closer to her chest. The only thing worse than writing was not writing and being discarded immediately. “Other questions?”

Adalyn knew not what other questions were asked as she had retreated into the recesses of her own mind.

Confused.

Alarmed.

Scared.

The walk back to her house was a somber one. She had heard something about gathering personal belongings then heading together with the group to a private location. This would enable the group to write without being interrupted by the community. Adalyn could not help but think how isolation benefited the community from the reality that this occurred with each Gifting.

Adalyn entered her home and made her way down the hall, slowly. Her feet dragged like they were walking to her grave. It never even occurred to her that she could pass this unimaginable task. If she had not looked up briefly at the sound of the creaking floorboard, she might as well have missed the office. Her eyes caught the red leather-bound notebook that sat on the far desk. She had never given the room a second thought but now found herself drawn to it. Entering, she went to the desk and picked up the notebook. It was locked. Adalyn yearned to look inside to get a glimpse of what to expect. She looked around. Where would the key be hidden? she wondered.

It was then that her eyes landed on the oddly placed heart-shaped locket that sat on the teacup. She picked it up, opened it, and felt the cold key fall into her palm. Taking the key, she opened the notebook only to be surprised by its contents. Every page was blank except the last page and on it, there was only one word: run.