Persistence

Eventually a lawyer was brought in to review my case and prepare me for my trip to court. As much as I’d been dreading this, it also brought some relief. The appearance of the lawyer proved that time was passing. I’d lost count of it days, maybe weeks ago. But the arrival of another fairy, though it did not necessarily bode well for me, at least proved that I hadn’t gone crazy yet.

I tried to figure out how long I’d been here for, I really did. But time has a way of evading you when you do nothing but eat or sleep. Things here were not run on a timetable so much as a basis of need: I was fed whenever I was hungry and could shower when I wanted to. After the first few days, I hardly bothered looking at the clock anymore—I knew it had betrayed me. I would glance at it to see that it hadn’t changed at all in what must have been hours. I was on my own in this place, that was for sure. No one, not even my lawyer, was on my side.

That day—at least, I think it was day, it was hard to tell where I was—started off normal. Wake up, shower, mirror, breakfast. If you could rely on the clock, it was 3:00 when my lawyer arrived. She was blunt. She advised me to plead insanity and hope that the courts would go easy on me. Easy—not that it mattered. Whether I was given 100 years or life, I’d likely die young without my magic to aid me. And I wasn’t about to plead insanity. That would be breaking down. Letting society win. I had no intention of letting The People think they’d beat me. One day, they’d see that I had been right and honor me. Sadly, that day would probably be long after my demise. One of the worst things about having a longer lifespan is that change takes so much longer. I tried explaining this to the lawyer, but she wasn’t having any of it. Apparently not a bit believer in free thought, then. I could sense a personality conflict, which was sure to be another obstacle to my case.

This, like most of my predictions, proved true. We’d gotten nowhere in our meeting, and the lawyer, so-called protector of justice, had apparently given up. She was a perfect example of a close-minded lawyer who went only by the books. I, on the other hand, had the courage to challenge age-old ideas. This annoyed her to no end. After a fifth argument over the definition of insane, she stormed out of my cell.

I knew she thought I was stupid…I could see her telling that to the cameras outside. No doubt another brainwashing special would be hosted by PPTV. After all the work they’d done to discredit me, I knew I’d never get a fair trial. “Fair…” What did it matter anyway? I wasn’t even sure what the word meant anymore. To have a truly fair trial, they’d have to have a jury of my peers, which I had none. No one in this place was complex enough to understand my ideas. In truth, I’d only ever meant two people who’s intelligence was anywhere near the level of mine, and they chose to confine their mind to the common ideals of a society much less advanced than them. As for the regular fairies in Haven, I outshone them and they’d isolated me out of jealousy.

Even the cameramen had not approached me for so much as a quote the whole time I’d been here. I guess they’d either been intimidated by me or ordered to keep their distance. I hadn’t gotten a chance to explain my actions and smooth things over, and I knew I never would. These people—they were insane. They were biased and inflexible and, though they didn’t see it, almost as destructive as the mud men. The same faults—lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride—plagued them, but they were too supremist to notice it. The only thing The People weren’t guilty of was perfection, thought that’s the one thing they’d never expect. Normal people didn’t seem to understand what made perfection so special, that being all the flaws that surrounded it. It was that knowledge, along with the imperfections surrounding me, that made me so special and so, discriminated against.

Everybody else—the ones who were under the false impression that they were the perfect ones here—found what they thought were problems with me and so boosted their self-esteem. I was thankful, and still am, that I never needed to compare myself to others in order to validate myself. I could always look at myself and know how much I was worth. I was perfection; there was no one else like me; everyone else was imperfect.

Life was that easy to figure out, but people spent their lives lying to themselves instead of searching for truth. The lied so much that they came to believe their lies and tried to pass them off as truth. If they were believed by enough people, these lies became truth. These false truths corrupted our society. That was why I’d tried to save it.

The lies, however, were structured in a way as to keep me from doing even that. Their orchestrators had found a way to subliminally control the people and, thought police or no, there was a subconscious feeling that Big Brother was watching. The only difference was that, in our society, Big Brother and the thought police were everyone, people who would gladly detain anyone who went against their ideals. The liars called me insane and dangerous. They didn’t look to see that they’d be the cause of The People’s collapse.

I wondered how society could be so visually impaired, and then answered my question. Obviously, it was because no one had ever taught people how to see, and anyone who tried would be jailed and possibly even killed. I was proof of that.

Our society, in its creation, was only made to be destroyed. Hopefully enough would remain after The People were gone to alert other societies to the mistakes made by fairykind, but I didn’t believe that would happen. If it had, The People undoubtedly would have found some sort of warning.

I soon realized, though, that this may not have been the case. Perhaps the only legacy of fallen peoples was that their faults were passed on to those who came after. If this was the case, the cause of their downfall could likely be determined by studying current human and fairy populations rather than past ones. If there were clues, they were likely not the big things people thought they were; rather they were more discreet, and for that, more dangerous. I knew that the realization of our faults was just an idle dream that would never be fulfilled, but I needed something to hold on to. I could only hope that one day, there would be someone who could build on my work and reach these same conclusions before it was too late.

I groaned aloud as I realized that I had left no records of my findings anywhere. I had kept my thoughts to myself. I had not dared to write anything down for fear it would be seen by the wrong people and my plans would be thwarted. In the end, it hadn’t seemed to matter. My plans had been stymied anyways, and now there was no source explaining my actions to the outside world.

I eyed the cameras, wishing futilely that someone would come and let me talk so that my thoughts and words might be recorded before it was too late. I stared into the lenses, willing my eyes to convey my messages to the world. The cameras started back with no signs of either affirmation or defeat.

The lenses remained unhelpful even in my dreams.

Some other stories by carino:

• Taken Away Updates
• How to Write A Good Fanfiction!
• Never Enough
• Desperation- Award Winner! 2nd
• A Christmas Surprise-oneshot