We Are Not Numbers

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Dear Joie,

  It seems that all I bring you these days is bad news. A new law passed, so quickly that Guetteur barely got the information to us before it was made public. This time it does not only affect the school, but our entire world.

  All male citizens above twenty are required to sign up for the Defense of Peace. That means half of Les Frères. And the Defense of Peace might not sound so bad, but Ciel says it is a euphemism for “Execution Squadron.” Our boys are sent to camps (not camps like The Camp, but learning camps like school) where they are put in solitary confinement with nothing to keep them company except the book of Peace. They learn to break hands and ankles and stop revolutions like ours.

  I am of half a mind to take back what I said. It seems they do know. They heard our roars of Revenge and Revolution and they are going to use our own to kill us.

  Naturally, Guetteur, Obstiné, Fierté, and Bronche have fled. It is surprisingly easy to run from here. It is staying hidden that is so damn hard, because the LL is around every corner and they have their damn Politi barring the roads and the forests and the gates like angry hounds.

  They are going to find you, Joie. We need your help. We must know how to continue the revolution on the basis of a young girl. Help us, Joie.

  If you will not help us, help me.

  Love,

    Contente.

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