Trapped

Fear is the most powerful motivator in the world. As an emotion, it bypasses logic, turning us back into the animals we really are. Since the dawn of civilization, fear has been used to divide us from each other, to turn groups of people into a concept instead of living, breathing humans just like us. The fear of the "others" has been used by governments for centuries. We are stronger together. Divided, we are weak. Make no mistake: our leaders know this, and they use it against us. If we're busy fighting each other, we won't unite against them.

That's what I tell the group of faces staring at me in the flickering light. As I finish speaking, they start quietly clapping. There are murmurs of agreement from the crowd of our dark basement meeting room. Since it is past midnight, many begin moving from their hiding places by the columns and under the stairs. They need to hurry home, keeping to the shadows so as not to be caught out past the nation-wide curfew of 8 p.m.

We meet in secret because we are afraid. We meet at all because we want to save our country and everyone in it.

In 2100 America, you can't be too careful. Democracy has fallen and been replaced by something sinister.

There are no meetings in the town square, no televised debates, no peaceful protests or assemblies like those guaranteed in the Constitution.

Oh, we still have a president--if you can call him that. Nerium was elected president in 2080. Two years later, he declared martial law to protect the United States from so-called terrorist groups inside our borders. He was declared "President for Life" before the following election in 2084.

According to him, we are all still in danger.

As the crowd begins to disperse, my love comes out of the shadows and walks up to me. She wraps her arms around my neck and whispers into my ear, "I'm so proud of you."

I return her embrace, pressing my face into her dark curls and breathing in her scent.

We had originally met at one of these secret gatherings. I had seen her come in a few times. At first, I had assumed that one of my students brought her. But she was always alone.

It was hard not to watch her--something about her was so mysterious and captivating. Her hair was a cluster of dark, cascading ringlets, and her eyes bore into your soul. Every time I looked at her, she was stroking a small, gold, heart-shaped locket that she wore around her neck.

After the conclusion of one of our meetings, she had come up to me to ask questions. Her smile was sweet and genuine, and I'd been drawn to her pure innocence. Even her name was alluring--Belladonna.

We had ended up meeting later for coffee, and the rest was history. We'd been together for over a year now, and despite the danger, she faithfully supported my efforts to spread the message of democracy.

Donna and I walk the few blocks back to our city apartment, keeping to the alleyways and the shadows.

Being a dissenter is dangerous. I find it convenient that many of President Nerium's political enemies wind up missing or dead. There is no solid evidence tying him to the crimes, but you'd have to be crazy not to suspect his cronies. I'm sure they act on his orders.

We slip into our apartment and retire for the night. Before I turn out the light, I see Donna stroking her locket again. I decide to try my luck and ask her once more what's inside. As usual, she smiles and says, "You'll find out soon enough."

I have a long day of classes tomorrow. As a college professor, I have no interest in running for office. But I have a duty to my students to tell them about the history of the United States and the value of democracy. My students look up to me. I try not to be too political in class, but my feelings slip out sometimes.

Several students have come to me after class or during office hours to ask for my advice on how to take our country back. They want to restore our once-great democracy, but they have no idea where to begin. Many current and former students attend the midnight meetings. They bring friends that have the same ideals.

I worry for their safety, but I also worry for our country. They are adults, and they make their own decisions. After all, who knows? Maybe one of them will lead the rebellion to overthrow President Nerium.

When I wake up the next morning, Donna is already gone. She leaves early for work, and besides a few text messages, I don't hear from her until the afternoon. I go through my regular morning routine: coffee, dress, jog, eat, shower, dress for work.

I leave my apartment and begin walking to campus for my 9 a.m. class. The sun is bright this June morning, and the flowers are blooming. I'm lost in thought about how best to begin my lecture.

Suddenly, a black van driving way too fast pulls up beside me and screeches to a halt. Two men wearing black ski masks leap out of the van and grab me. I struggle and throw a couple punches, but it's two against one. They throw a black sack over my head and force me into the van. Once inside, they pin me down and tie my wrists behind my back.

I can't see anything through the dark cloth, but I hear the engine rev as the van speeds away.

Deep in my heart, I know this is it. There is no room for dissention, for political discussion, for free thought. I've been preaching democratic ideals to my students, my followers, and now I must pay the price.

I should be figuring out how to escape, but all I can think about is Donna and my students. What is going to happen to them now?

A couple hours later, the van stops. The men roughly pull me out and shove me along through a door and into a building. We walk through a maze of hallways. I hear doors open and close, open and close. Finally, they push me into a room and shove me to my knees onto a hard floor. Someone rips the bag off my head.

I blink, my eyes adjusting to the light as I look around. I see the presidential seal and realize that I'm inside the White House, on my knees before President Nerium. They must have smuggled me inside through the underground tunnels.

The President looks at me with a cold smile.

"Professor, it's a pleasure to meet you. I hear you've been busy creating the next generation of terrorists. Poisoning the minds of young adults, leading them to view their own government, their own president as the enemy."

"President, my ass," I scoff. "You can call yourself that if you want to, but you're nothing more than a dictator."

"I have a divine right to lead," he says. "I won the last election by a landslide. This country needs someone who will bring it back to its former glory, who can put it back to its rightful place as leader of the world. Terrorists like you undermine this great nation. You're a cancer, and cancers must be rooted out."

"So you're just going to kill everyone who disagrees with you?" I ask. "You're going to desecrate the White House, the former beacon of democracy, by making it the site of a political murder? I'm really surprised you do your killing yourself instead of just paying someone to do it for you."

He looks at me and gives me that cold smile again.

"No, Professor. I'm not going to kill you. But she will."

A door at the back of the room opens, and she walks in. My mind goes blank. I'm so numb I can't even breathe.

I know those dark coils of hair, the curve of her face, those gray-green eyes, the way she strokes that little gold heart locket.

I see it, but I don't believe it.

"Thank you for providing us with a long list of dissenters, Professor" the President says. His voice drifts through my mind, but I barely hear him now. "Rest assured, we will take care of all of your students and those who have attended your secret lectures. We won't allow anyone to escape who poses a threat to our great country."

Donna reaches up and unclasps the locket. As she opens it, I feel a strange pull. The inside of the locket looks like a doorway to another galaxy, another dimension.

A strong suction reaches out and grabs me. Like a black hole, the locket starts pulling me inside of it. The suction is so strong that there is no chance of fighting it.

Donna watches me with no emotion. "I told you you'd find out what was inside the locket soon enough," she says.

Just before Donna snaps the locket shut, I look back and see my crumpled body on the floor.

My soul will remain trapped in this darkness forever.