The War We Know Nothing About

One

Of course, I didn't understand what he meant at the time.

How could the whole world be a lie? I remember thinking to myself. I thought perhaps it was just a story he made up to entertain me, after all I was just a kid.

I don't remember much else from that conversation except heading back home. Home referred to my family's own personal metal box, however it wasn't nearly as grey and bland as everywhere else. It looked just like the inside of a normal everyday home that sat somewhere near a pond in a lovely little neighbourhood outside a city. However, there weren't any windows.

I really don't know how I lived without windows for so long...

After my mother, my father, my sister, and my younger brother, and myself enjoyed a lovely, probably under surveillance, always-takes-place-at-precisely-6:32pm, family meal, we all settled on the couch in the living room to watch the daily news.

As always, the same videos and images were replayed almost every night, reminding us of the war, and why we were here living the way we were underground. I never understood why they never played new footage or showed new pictures or told new stories. It was as if we were all meant to be stuck in the same loop.

It showed one of the reporters, sitting in her usual desk, going to report the usual statistics, when something different happened.
The woman would close her eyes a moment, setting down her neat stack of papers.
" I can't... I can't do this anymore." She paused, her eyes looked at the camera, but it felt as if she was looking directly at me.
Her expression was deeply troubled, her lower lip was almost quivering.
"Everything is fine... Everything is fine!" She began to shout, my parents conversed behind me.
I don't remember what they were talking about, I was far too focused on the TV.
"They're Lying! Th- r- l-.. in..." Her words started to distort before the signal cut out.
The TV made a static sounding hum with a blank screen that read Technical Difficulties: Please stand by.

I felt everything inside my head begin to swirl. My mind felt numb, was the old man telling the truth? I had to find out.
I lied to my parents and said I had forgotten something in the dining hall from lunch. Everyone who lived in the Bunkers always had lunch together, like a tradition of sorts. It was a way to supposedly build community among everyone and make friends.
They said I could get it tomorrow but I insisted and my mother reluctantly let me leave, though they told me I had to return back before curfew, which was at 8:30pm.

I ran around, looking for the old man. Though I realized I never actually knew his name, or where he lived either. Though as I walked down the long hallway of doors to people's individual or family homes, I heard voices from around the corner.

I slowed down my pace, pressing my back against the wall as I tried to listen in on the conversation, but their words were unfamiliar to me.
I peeked my head around the corner. My heart made its way to my throat. My eyes widened in horror. The old man was dead.
I covered my mouth as I stared at his lifeless body being dragged from his home.
His eyes remained open, I felt like he was staring right at me, even though he was dead. His skin was ghastly, almost translucent.

I wanted to throw up, the sight made me feel ill, my stomach was twisting itself into knots.
I squeaked as they saw me and fell backwards, now sitting on the floor.
Two Keepers walked up to me in my panicked state.
"It's alright." One of them tried to assure me, lowering them self down to appear less threatening.
My breath became shaky, and so did the rest of me.

They were saying things, but I wasn't comprehending it. Though all I heard was them talking about how the man died of old age, and how he wasn't thinking properly and often said nonsense.
"Did he tell you anything?" The keeper asked me, their voice sounded kind.
The other keeper was still standing tall, a blank and intimidating look on their face.

I felt like I shouldn't mention the conversation we had.
"N-no..." I stammered, shaking my head.
I felt tears flowing down my face.

The two keepers exchanged a glance. "What's your name? we'll take you back home." They told me.
"Finlay Amery." I said quietly, my voice squeaking.

If it's one thing I regret, it's telling them my name.

They ended up taking me home. My mother was frantic, trying to keep calm. The keepers told her what I saw, she frequently glanced at me as if I was some cracked piece of glass ready to shatter into a million pieces in the blink of an eye. But I managed to stay calm for the most part.

After they left, my mother walked with me to my room, she sat on my bed with me, and talked with me about what I saw, what was said and whatnot. But of course, I didn't say anything about the conversation I had with the old man, or how it linked to what happened on TV.

In fact... I kept it to myself for far too long.

A few years went by, I was around 16 now.

I thought about all that had happened, I even wrote down everything the old man told me in a notebook, and what happened on the TV.
That was a bad idea now that I think of it. I should've just kept it all in my head.

From when I was 13, I started to wonder about everything. If the sky is a lie as the song says, what else is a lie? I thought about the very world I lived in. I wondered if anyone else thought the same.

Despite my lack of ability to make friends, I somehow ended up with one. It happened at the usual lunch gathering one day.

She came up to me and sat down (which is unusual because no one ever sits with me, we all sit in different groups, the elderly, the adults, and the children). Her practically white hair was shorter then most girls I've seen. Her skin was a light tan colour, and her eyes matched her hair, being they too were nearly white. She wore baggy pants and a baggy shirt.

"Hiya! Finlay, right? I'm Caja! Caja Angelle! It's nice to meet you! Oo! I just realized our last names both start in A! That's cool! Mind if I join ya?" She introduced herself to me, her voice was loud and energetic.
At first I found her to be annoying, but she grew on me, and I finally had a friend.

We would hang out almost every day. Turns out I was her first friend too. We were both 14 when we met.

We were sitting in my room on my bed, talking about whatever came to mind really. Though I never talked to her about my theories on the world we lived in.

She flopped backwards, looking upside down at my floor.
"What do you think we'll learn about in class tomorrow?" She asked randomly, her arms flailing around.

I was about to answer (my answer being more propaganda and lies- which was mostly a joke), though Caja seemed to notice something under my dresser that piqued her interest.
"Oh? What's this under here?" She crawled off the bed, reaching under the dresser to grab my notebook. The notebook.

"Ah! That's nothing! It's nothing!" I panicked, basically falling off the bed as she began to flip through it.

Caja tilted her head, her eyes narrowed.
"Woah..."

"Woah?" I asked, blinking confusedly.

Caja looked at me, it was the first time I had seen such a serious expression on her face.
" I thought I was the only one in my family who saw that on the TV. I thought I was going crazy... but you saw it too... and according to everything else written here, that means that..." she paused for a moment,
"This place really is just a big lie."