Julias' story

Julia's story, in The Ministry of Love.

         Julia was just waking up from the drugs. The scene around her seemed to be fuzzy and blurred. The light was piercing into her eyeballs. It was brighter than any other light that she had ever been faced with before. She slowly started to regain consciousness enough to be able to take in her surroundings. She knew she was in a cell, and by the horrible stench that passed through her damaged nose and into her coarse lungs it was clear that this cell was inside the Ministry of Love. The smell was a fowl mixture of a lot of different smells she had smelt at different times in and around the buildings of Oceania. It was sick, wee and various other things that her senses couldn't quite work out. This particular cell was unlike any other cell she had ever been in before. It was small enough that, if she had the strength to stand up, she would be able to reach each opposite wall with her fingertips. The ceiling towered above and made her feel very small. On each of the four walls was a telescreen. Julia had never felt so exposed even though she was fully clothed. It felt to her almost as if she was naked.
There was a shocking pain in the depths of her stomach just below her diaphragm but she couldn't remember why it hurt so much. Busy trying to rake her brain searching for the answer, the pain faded slightly. It was annoying and distressing. Although Julia was a very strong minded girl, the pain seemed to physically weaken her. Already she knew that this was nothing compared to what she was going to go through in the next couple of weeks, months, years. She had heard a lot about what happens to people when they are taken to the ministry of love. How they go in and never reappear.
         Julia felt a desperate urge to get up, or at least to sit up and make herself more comfortable to ease the pain slightly. She felt weak and useless. The more she tried, the more it hurt, and the more she hated herself for not being able to do this one simple task.
         Julia had no recollection of the date or the time at which she was brought in. Still she did not know. Whilst she was sat in the cell, most of the time by herself, she had a lot of time to think. Most of the things she thought about were her stomach and trying to remember what had happened to her. As time passed, different thoughts came and went. Then she suddenly thought. Winston. What had happened to the one she held most dear to her heart? Panic struck her. She had not had one single thought about Winston since they had both been arrested, and since she didn't know when or how long ago that was she felt extremely guilty for not thinking about him at all. For all she knew he could be dead. All the thoughts of what they may have done to him came flooding into her brain all at once, it was uncontrollable. How could she have forgotten about him she felt so guilty and wondered why he had escaped her thoughts? She hadn't been touched yet, but maybe Winston wasn't quite so lucky.
         After some time had passed most of which she spent thinking and worrying about Winston of thinking about Winston. The huge, metal, chunky door flew open and crashed against the wall echoing inside the cell and inside Julia's head. Stood at the door were two huge men who together almost filled the gap. A small frail looking woman was thrown in and staggered to a spot on the floor that suited as a place to sit. She was wearing a ripped T-shirt and a dirty pair of brownie green trousers. She had no shoes. At first she did not say anything. She just sat, and stared. Julia didn't have the strength to say anything until the lady perked up, 'I see they got you as well then.'
Julia nodded. At this time Julia didn't want to make conversation so she sat and kept herself to herself.
The lady sat fumbling with a piece of cloth in her hand. She rocked back and forth, back and forth. To Julia she looked guilty. The lady looked around the room as if looking for a way out. She didn't want to be here. Maybe she was in for the same reason that Julia was. 'I didn't do anything. Please don't hurt me. I didn't do it.' the lady by this time had got up onto her knees and started praying.
         Nothing else was said between the two of them but Julia felt there was an instant connection. Maybe a bond because of fear which made it feel like a friendship.
Hours had passed and still not one word between them. The door was open again. 'Smith, Freya Smith. Room 101.' Droned the dull and determined voice which seemed to come from nowhere. The mere sound of those words sent a shock of fear through Julia's body. Julia pitied the lady however was so glad it wasn't her time yet. However she knew she would have to go soon. Anytime now.
         'Her name was Smith,' she said aloud to herself. Maybe that was Winston's sister? They had never really spoken about their family before and so she did not know of what family he had or who they were. This thought didn't last long. The only thing she could think about was where room 101 was and what was happening to the lady she had minutes ago felt she was best friends with. Then it occurred to her. When was the door going to smash open again, and would this time when she would be dragged to room 101. She began to regret wishing the lady would go before her she liked the company, even though they didn't really talk she hated feeling so alone when all she could think about was her own death, and the thought that if the lady was there, when the door next opened it could be her who was going to be taken away and not Julia.
         There was a loud grumble coming from the depths of her stomach. For the first time since she had been in this hell hole she was hungry. She just remembered that since she had been in the cell she had not been fed. In fact she couldn't even remember the last time she had eaten. Weakly she moved her head around, trying to keep her body as still as possible so as not to disrupt her stomach so she wasn't in any worse pain. She was trying to get a better look of the cell she was in and more importantly look for even a crumb of food. In the corner across the other side of the room she could see something. She couldn't see what it was even though it wasn't far her eyes were still infocused. It might have fallen out of Freya's pocket. Julia couldn't really remember where she had been sitting so she couldn't be certain that it was out of her pocket or maybe just been there for months. Having a debate with herself inside her head she was trying to figure out whether it was worth the pain to go and see what it is. Eventually she decided she was going to try. Heaving herself up Julia propped herself on one hand with her back balanced against the wall. Gradually, she slid herself closer towards the right hand wall of the cell. The pain was causing her to feel sick. A sudden spasm in her stomach made her unbalanced on her arm and she slammed to floor. The floor was concrete and it hurt - a lot. As she was lying there all she could think about was whether this was going to be where she would die. The thought hit her that she was lying on a cold concrete floor that had been stepped on, thrown up on, weed on, and the rest was too unbearable to think about. Who else had died on this floor? The pain was getting so much now that she couldn't move. Even these thoughts didn't move her. Feeling paralyzed Julia lay unmoving as an attempt to ease the pain. She was breathing deeply. For many hours she was lay picturing her own death and wishing she could say her last goodbyes to Winston.                                                      Momentarily she had forgotten that she was hungry. She heard the rattle of keys. After about ten minutes she told herself that it was another cell door being opened and it was not her going to her death.
         Again came the grumble and again she had the urge and determination to pick herself up off the floor and try get the food once more. She was now telling herself that the object across the room was food because she felt if she said otherwise then she would not be able to get across the room. As the room was small she was beating herself up about not being able to get across to the other side. Her arms had life in them, but she dragged the rest of body across the floor like it had no life left in it at all, and as her arms were so weak this task was hard.
         After experiencing extreme pain she had managed to some how get her self across the small, claustrophobic room. Julia's arms had now turned to jelly and she had no strength or energy left in her body at all. Although she had not really moved her body much she could still feel the pain in her stomach getting greater and greater. It felt almost as if someone had stabbed her and she was slowly bleeding to death. Though she knew her stomach was not bleeding. Well there was no blood on her clothes.
         Excitedly she looked in the dark depths of the corner and saw the object that she had spent so much time and energy getting to. Still lying down she reached over to the thing and picked it up. CCLLLLAAAANNNNNGGGGG!!
         The monster of a door flew open, but this time it sounded louder and harder than ever. Frozen to the spot Julia knew that even without looking there was no one else coming into the room. Her time had come.
         Behind her she could hear the heavy footsteps of the clumpy boots getting closer to her limp body. It stopped. She knew that the person, whoever it was, was less than a metre from her back. Julia froze. A dirty, rough hand was placed on her shoulder. Strange feelings travelled round Julia's body. Strangely she felt love. Beginning to wonder if it was Winston who had placed his soft hand on her shoulder she rolled over and saw a kind face, full of sympathy, staring down at her. The face was a familiar face, it was O'Brien.
         From the back of O'Brien came a broken and distraught voice of sorrow.
         'Julia. Julia Room 101.'
         Judging by the sound and the tone of this person's voice, she could tell that it was not one of the heartless people in the party or the thought police. It was a kind soft gentle voice, a voice she thought she might have heard before.
         O'Brien placed his hand further down her back. He was now kneeling next to her. 'Do you know what is going to happen to you?'
         'I, I don't know.' Julia could feel a huge lump in her throat. It was making her breath uncomfortably and distressing her. Though she said nothing she felt violated. Knowing her every thought would probably be discovered she tried not to think about anything.          
         Two huge people, men, came either side of her grabbed her arms and pulled her up. Julia let out a desperate cry for help she reached deep inside of herself to attempt to struggle away but just couldn't do it. She couldn't even scream she just scrunched herself up and let the guards drag her away. Desperately Julia begged them to stop. The brutality of the two men was unbelievable. This disturbed her stomach and the pain was worse than ever.
         As she awoke she realised that she was not in her own house which she, for some reason, felt she was. Her body was paralyzed she couldn't move. Pain struck her and she couldn't figure out what had happened to her to cause her to be paralyzed. Then suddenly she realised that she wasn't paralyzed at all. She was strapped to a chair. Literally every single one of her body parts had been strapped to a chair. Her muscle couldn't even twitch.
          No one else was in the room with her. Then she heard a door open. The room was quite dark so she couldn't see who was stood just inside the door way. At a guess it was O'Brien but she had no real way of knowing for sure until they came closer which she didn't really want anyway. The dark figure moved closer towards her and she could just make out a dull face that was cold and heartless. It was O'Brien.
         'Do you know why you are here?'
         'No. I did nothing wrong. Love cannot be a crime. Haven't you ever felt love before?'
         O'Brien ignored this question. Slowly he made a movement round the back of the chair. He was out of sight of Julia.
'What is you worst fear?' came a quiet voice which was not O'Brien's. Julia did not ask this question for she did not know if it was rhetorical or if she was going to get tortured. (That was going to happen anyway but she was trying to keep it to a bare minimum). The straps got suddenly tighter, then they loosened and Julia felt free. Each strap tightened. Each strap loosened until she wasn't attached to the chair anymore. Not moving from the chair Julia in the corner of her eye saw a person. Someone she knew. Someone she knew well. This person slowly worked their way round into better view of Julia's. It was Winston. She wanted to get up. She wanted to fling her arms round him and caress his neck, but there was something different about him. Something that wasn't quite right. The way he was standing his facial features. He had changed.
         Yet another person came in the door but this time it was very delicate footing and she heard a rattle. Slowly Julia lifted her head up and saw this person was carrying a box. It had a cover on the top. Julia wondered what was in it. Winston took the box of the person and placed it on a small, broken table in front of the chair. In front of Julia.
         All Julia wanted to do was run away and never come back. What had happened to Winston? Why was he being like this? She knew that he had changed under the influence of O'Brien and the thoughtless people who were part of this horrible place. Julia only had one hope left and that was that Winston hadn't changed. That he was still the same old person that she had fallen in love with. Maybe he was pretending he had changed so O'Brien wouldn't hurt him anymore.
          She heard nothing from inside the box. It was still. It was silent. Julia did not care about Winston anymore. All she could think about was what horror was waiting inside the still, silent box.
         O'Brien appeared again but this time with a look of desperation about him. Julia was concerned as to what he was going to do to her now. Why was Winston in the room with her? Maybe that was part of his torture, to watch her suffer.
         O'Brien moved closer towards the damaged table and out his hand on the top of the box. With one swift movement the cover was off the box and on a heap on the floor. Sat in front of her was a glass box. She strained her eyes to see what it was but this attempt failed.
         'If I knock this box off hear it will break.' commented O'Brien with a vindictive tone. 'Then whatever is inside will come out. You wouldn't want the now. Would you? Do you know what is in here?'
         By this time Julia was worried. She could feel her heart in her throat. She shook her head.
         O'Brien took a couple of paces back and standing next to the broken Winston. With one sharp harsh blow he slapped him on the back forcing him to lunge forward narrowly missing the table. Julia jumped but didn't move. She could feel O'Brien's piercing eyes going through her. She didn't move to help him. In an angry rage he kicked the table across the room and smashed the box. At the moment of impact there was a loud and piercing hissing noise coming from whatever was inside the box.
         With a strange out burst of desperation Julia screamed, jumped up and ran towards Winston. Before she could get to him she tripped falling brutally to the floor with the table leg pocking into her stomach. Crying she dragged herself towards Winston. O'Brien ran towards the door and slammed it. Locking the door behind him. There was a long awkward silence.
         Several spiders had now appeared from the inside of the box. They were very quickly making their way across the room gradually getting closer and closer towards her and Winton. She didn't have any energy to move away from them. All she could do was just lie there and hold Winston's hand. As they got closer Julia realised just how big these spiders actually were. The legs had huge hairs on and they creepily moved slowly towards Julia's face. The fangs were opening and shutting and she could see spit dripping from the depths of their fangs. She glanced up and noticed that Winston looked completely lifeless. He was just sat there, staring.
         'DON'T DO IT! Don't do it to me! Don't let them get me! Take Winston. Please take Winston!