Thought Crime

Oh how I long for that silence, the sweet sweet silence. There was a time when I had my mind to myself, no advertisements, no scans, no announcements. Only me, my thoughts, and silence. Now it won’t end, the chattering, the constant sounds, the chattering.

         When the technology was first announced some 15 years ago, in the year 2053, people were amazed. A brain implant that allows instant compatibility between Computers and your brain, it was brilliant! Upload memories to your computer, download movies to your mind.

         Then it became compulsory. Employers didn’t want disobedient workers, they wanted to know what their workers were thinking, were they working hard? Employers stopped accepting anyone without a mind chip. Now everyone has one, and the government has complete control.



         Here I obediently work, happy thoughts, happy. The dank factory is filled with workers. The workers have smiles on their faces, but their eyes aren’t smiling. Everyone has a complete look of fear in their eyes, and a thick aura of paranoia hangs thick in the air.

         In my mind I hear a crackling sound, indicating the routine government scan. Terrorists, that’s what they’re keeping a look out for, terrorists. I quickly start thinking my pre-prepared script that I prepared years ago.

         “Happy happy, I’m a happy worker, I love my job, I love making money for my boss. I hope the government catches those horrible terrorists soon-“, I think to myself, stopping upon hearing the horrible crackling sound in my mind again, indicating that the government has disconnected.

         I breathe a sigh of relief, only to hear another crackling sound in my mind, followed by the familiar gruff, haughty and harsh voice of my boss. “Mike! Get back to work! I’m not paying you to stand around doing nothing!” He commands, his screaming voice entering the sacred confines of my mind and shouting directly at my soul.

         I immediately return to work, working furiously to please my boss. “I hate him” I think to myself, followed immediately with regret. “I hope he didn’t hear that” I think.

         “Hear what!?” my boss immediately shouts into my mind, my soul taking the full impact of his words, I regain my composure.

         “Nothing” I think. I hear the crackling sound, he has disconnected.



         It is sometime later, my fingers are tired. I have been working furiously, repetitively, tirelessly. I’m so tired. Slowly my eyes flicker, I drift off slowly to sleep. I have been unable to sleep for the last 3 days. The paranoia keeps me awake, the very knowledge that the private sanctity of my mind can be violated at any time is enough to keep me awake for the rest of my life.

         I slowly drift asleep, only to be re-awakened by the sudden familiar crackling sound in my mind. Fearfully, I prepare my soul for another beating.

         “Are you tired? Sleepy? Can’t get a good nights rest? Then try Bednam’s mattresses for the best sleep you’ll have in years! Mattresses at a bargain $60.95!” the advertisement shouts, my very soul shuddering as it plays straight through my weak, tired mind and into my vulnerable soul.

         I sigh in relief when the advertisement ends, it wasn’t my boss. I continue to work at my same productive pace, suddenly awake.



         As I continue working a sudden, fearful, realization spurs through me. “Sleep, they knew I was thinking about sleep, so they played me an advertisement about sleep.” I realize



         As I realize this, I see a figure moving towards me from my left. He has unruffled hair and seems slightly cautious, constantly looking at the Boss’s office to check that he isn’t watching. He cautiously inches towards me, making eye contact before whispering in my ear.

         “I’ve been asking everyone, so far I have 10 people behind me, we can’t keep going on like this, we’re going on strike and I want to know if you’ll help.” He cautiously asks.

         “Trade Unions are illegal” I bluntly reply. I do not notice the crackling sound in my head as I strain to hear his whispered answer.

         “I know, but we’re a large union, it could turn into a general strike.” He answers.

         I think about it, trying to take in everything he is telling me. I eventually agree.



         It’s three hours later, my mind a-buzz with thoughts of the strike. I do not notice it when the sirens blare in the distance. I do not notice it when the police smash open the factory doors. I do not notice it when they start arresting people. It is not until my arms are suddenly handcuffed and I’m brutally dragged away does the message “You are under arrest for thought crime” ring though my mind.