I hear a knock at my house door. I stop typing. I glance at the time on my computer. 8:27 a.m. My article is due to be put up at 8:30. Slowly, I get out of my seat and walk over to the door.
“Who is it?” There’s no answer, “Who is it?” There is still silence. Carefully, I open the door. Two men in nice black suits appear at my door. One is taller with broader shoulders and looks significantly older than the other one. He has sandy hair and green eyes. The other one is much younger looking. Clean cut black hair and sunglasses. They hold up badges showing that they are part of the government. I can’t trust the government. They hide too many secrets. My heart quickens. Questions run through my head, how did they find me? Should I make a run for it? What will they do to me if they capture me? I try to calm down.
“How can I help you?” I already know why I’m part of a resistance against the government. This makes me a target. I write about what is really happening. Hacking through the most secure government systems, spilling all of their secrets. I need to get the truth out before all is lost.
“Are you Miss Kayla Kyree?” My original name. I think about who I used to be. I was Miss Kayla Kyree, daughter of well-respected technicians. The girl who excelled in computer science in school. The girl whose parents took pride in. Now, my parents are gone. Now, I have had many names. I move from small house to small house, dying my hair, and wearing colored contacts. I no longer know what my original hair color was anymore. All pictures of me were confiscated by the government.
“I’m sorry, but I’m Miss Lucila Erek.”
“Identity card.” I quickly take my fake ID out of my jean pocket and hand it to the men. They look at it closely. Each one putting their eyes close to it to make sure it’s authentic. A deafening silence falls upon me. It seems like hours as they examine the card. My heart beats so fast, It might as well jump out of my chest. Finally, they hand me back my ID. In one swift movement, I take back the card.
“We are sorry to have disturbed you, Miss Erek.” They walk away from my door. With a deep breath, I close the door and go back to my desk. My heart rate slows down a bit. I open my computer. It’s 8:29. I type…
When will it end?