#maybedistopia — Public Fediverse posts

This morning my best friend, Rikky, handed me a sheet of paper between classes as we passed.

Then during lunch she yelled at me, said some really horrible things, and stormed off saying that she never wanted to see me again. I almost threw out the paper, but I decided to read it. We had been friends since primary school, after all.

Scribbled at the top in her writing was "I'm sorry. I don't mean any of it. I'll see you in seventeen years. Stay alive."

Under that was this email.

"The day after tomorrow your best friend, Janice, is going to get pulled up in front of the school. There will be news cameras and reporters and government officials.

Janice Southward will be the next Chosen One.

How do I know? Because seventeen years ago my best friend was chosen. And I've been trying to keep him alive ever since. That is going to be your job now. I'll help, but you know her best.

But you can never been seen anywhere near her. If you are, you will get your mail and email screened, and you will be watched so you cannot interfere.

Why?

Because the Chosen One of each generation is not picked by some prophecy or seer or test of skill. They are picked at random. They have no special powers, no great destiny. They get a little stipend, enough so they don't have to work if they don't want to.

So what are they? They are bait. For every two-bit villain who comes along. They will have it shoved in their faces that there is a Chosen One - and even who it is. So they will go after them. And the government will know where they are going. So they can finish them off.

About one in ten of the Chosen Ones make it to 34. I want Janice to be one of them. Why? Because I've kept Callum alive. And I want his successor to do the same.

I worked my way into the Statistics Bureau. They are the ones who deal with The Chosen One and the idiots who go after them. The day after tomorrow I hope to see Callum for the first time in seventeen years.

And I will be waiting for you in the Bureau. Join me. And help keep Janice alive.

Show this to Janice, and then have a very public fight with her. Tell her to destroy this. No one can know. Especially not the Bureau. "

I sat back, and went to the loo. I tore the paper into tiny tiny bits and flushed them.

It all sounded insane. But there is going to be a big assembly tomorrow.

I guess I'd better destroy this as well.

#SF #SFF #microfiction #Microfic #tootfic #IAmWriting #MaybeDistopia