Random Freestyle Writing

The Decoder Pt2When my parents died, I made two promises: to escape the apartments as they had taught me, and to never break anyone's heart as mine had been broken. I could not bear to deny Jess or shatter her dreams and ambitions. Going to the beach was a once-in-a-lifetime oppertunity. It might not have mattered to me, but if it mattered to her, I had to go. I never understood why her mother was so OK with this. Perhaps she was won over by the spy's generosity, or perhaps she was tempted by the mystical allure that beaches had on us apartment dwellers. Either way, I didn't blame her.Hesitantly, I announced over dinner that we were going to the beach. The applause was loud and clear. It was final. We would go.I walked to work the next day as I always did. I wrote code. I walked home. Jacob didn't bug me, nor me him. It would have been against the rules anyway. I saw him once by the water-cooler that never seemed to have cups, just standing there. As much as I wanted to flip him off, I knew he didn't deserve the privilege.He never told me how and when he would be picking us up. Jess woke up before dawn, and excitedly hurried everybody to get ready. Through her, the entirity of the Florence knew where we were going. People were calling me a traitor already, a quite accurate observation. I was heading out with the enemy. There was nothing I hated more either. I had more than enough time to contemplate this on Saturday before we finally got the call from the Florence lobby at about eleven. A bus was waiting for us.There wasn't much to our bus. Red, with a great big plow on the front. The tyres looked unslashed, which was unusual, but I didn't have much time to look closely. The inside was nothing special either - but then again, I wouldn't know, as I had never been in a bus before. It was nothing more than some wooden benches, Jacob, and a wooden shell. The other families rushed inside, great smiles on their faces. I alone frowned, making a point to sit with arms crossed as far away from Jacob as possible, doing nothing but stare out of the window at the world rushing by.Only to be met with the sight of the Florence. It is always tragic when your own home depresses you. But being in the bus here felt worse. I didn't belong in a bus. I didn't belong with Jacob. I could not share in the joy my friends felt. In fact, I felt sick.The bus computer hurled us forward, and I discovered something new - driving. I soon saw others strolling down sidewalks and felt empathetic. We passed several of the other sorry apartments, although luckily none tried to kill us. Interestingly, the bus didn't take us through the housing district beyond the apartments at all. Instead, we came on to a very large road which took us directly to a place I had never been before. Out of the city.The first thing you noticed was cold. We didn't have cold in the city except in the uppermost floors of the apartments, where we kept fires burning to combat it. It was uncomfortable, as the bus was clearly not built to the sensitivities of the apartment folk. The scenery, however, was amazing. We were in hill country, but the hills were filled with pale green grass instead of concrete, and cattle instead of people. I had seen this in books, of course, but to actually experience it was something different entirely. Once I adjusted to the cold, the sensation of riding in relative comfort while green farms flew by, under a sky so blue as I had never seen before, was actually pretty fun. I didn't want to admit it. I certainly didn't show it like the others did with their gasping and pointing out of the windows. But I enjoyed riding the bus.Before long we reached the ocean, sparkling blue with waves to the horizon, lined with a perfect white sandy beach. It was somewhat warmer here, and every color shone with a radiance that appeared almost artifical. This place was beautiful.As the bus climbed down the hill and drew nearer to the beach, however, I realised that I shouldn't have made a conclusion about this beach so quickly. Almost the entire town surrounding the beach consisted of shops and casinos. The litter here was worse than much of the city, and the people certainly. There were no houses in sight, and it struck me that none of the half-naked, drunk and wild young people that made up the vast majority of the town actually lived here. This, I surmised, had to be where the house-people went to spend their excessive wealth. Half of them, I guessed, would probably return home to find their house stolen by some gang leader. They were making the most of things while they lasted.Only one thought crossed my mind - why? Why give up everything for a life like mine, when we would give up everything for a life like theirs? Couldn't we trade?But looking around the town - unlike the thoughts of my fellow passengers - nothing was more repulsive. The people had lost their whole sense of morality. In the apartments, we stuck together. We looked out for each other. Most of us did drugs but not like this. In our world, others were trying to kill us, but these people behaved like they were trying to kill themselves. They were psychopaths. My parents often told me that if I was good to the corporations, they would be good to me. It was in this moment that I realised that these people were the corporations, and they would never be nice to me. They were not even nice to themselves.Already, I longed to return to the Florence, with its charming dent in the floor and candle-lit rooms.We did not stay long in the town, moving quickly to the beach despite my group's curiosity. All my friends rushed out across the rubbish and people infested beach to the crystalline sea. I left the bus last, and just sat down on a free bench, ignoring the gum that covered it. I probably looked like a freak to these people - excess was their norm. My mind, however, had bigger issues to worry about. What was I going to do with my life? If not Terra, what could I believe in? I was too lost. Margrita? She always kept a good overview on stuff, but she was away for another three weeks.Suddenly I became aware that I was not the only person sitting on the bench. Jacob sat there too. For a long moment, both of us were silent. Jacob, I realised, was not like the people at the beach. What did he want me to see?Jacob spoke up. "Would you like to see my simulation?"Oh. Right."Am I looking at it?"Jacob laughed. "Now what kind of idiot would I be to design this?"I didn't say it, but I didn't think much of Jacob's intelligence. Or any house dweller's. Or my friends, playing as wildly as little Jess. Not that I didn't do that in the acid puddles. Sometimes I hated myself.Jacob was smiling. "Come with me" he said.I did. Sometimes I regret it, but I was curious, and searching for answers. We walked together slowly toward the end of the beach, where at the base of a small peninsula sat a rock pool."Now I must warn you. This simulation I made has a certain way about it. When you see it, you might not want to come back. And you don't have to."I simply shrugged apprehensively as we walked. It didn't matter."Here we are"We stopped right at the edge of the rock pool. Everybody else was some way down the beach, where most of the shops were, ignoring us. This was easily the most empty part of the beach. Jacob reached out his hand, grasping as if looking for something in mid-air. Then, quite suddenly, his hand disappeared. His arm looked as though it had become obscured by something, like an invisibility cloak - outside of reality itself. My mouth hung open as his hand moved along like he was pulling an invisible zipper with an invisible hand, first the one way, and then the other. And then - there's really no other way to put this - he unzipped reality right in front of me."Here we are" announced Jacob "This is my simulation. Inspired by your code and your story, my simulation within a simulation - a world where all are equal, all are good, and all have homes."