My name is Josephus
Part I: In the Beginning
When the dust died down, the clarity of the sky began to evaporate in the midst of the hovering ships stirring up the dust to create a small tornado of dirt; the thick air flooded and overwhelmed the nostrils. It was particularly cold today; the harsh wind could do nothing but cripple your hands until incapable of feeling. When he woke up, he felt safe under the watch of the omniscient cameras monitoring his every move, prepared to correct any intolerable behavior. His head was tucked in-between his pale grey wall and his colorless white pillow. He knew what today was, he was not dreading the day nor was he excited about it; he accepted the new month and all that came with it. He slowly sat up, put a clean shirt and pants on and embraced the day with full certainty that today would be just as yesterday was, and the day before. Shortly after removing his Diary from his shelf; he rushed out of the door, past the window reinforced with debilitating cardboard nailed into the wall, pressed his thumb against a small blue device that kept record of when he arrived and exited his building, then swiftly shut the front door exiting his comfortable home. Since it was the beginning of the month, his first task was to visit the Building of Attendance. He routinely swung the door open, if he hadn’t seen this site every month of his 22 year old life, he would have been shocked at the magnificent number of citizens surrounding the front desk retrieving their diaries. He heard his name called out by the intercom. He pushes his way through the thick crowd; he grabs the small black book, places his former Diary in the hands of an unknown body, and easily makes his way home. As he walks down the streets, he notices the emptiness of the roads. Panicking, his eyes look for the reason of the lingering vacancy.
His eyes are drawn to the colossal screen built into the Building of Marketing. The screen reads in large letters “NO CARS ON ROADS THIS WEEK IN CELEBRATION OF 10 YEARS UNDER THE POWER OF OUR PRESIDENT.” He was quite happy about this discovery. Cars always made him nervous, eager to cross the street and tempt the edges of his reoccurring, day by day life. Relieved, he started to walk stiff and erect, as if whoever was watching him he wanted to impress. On his way back to the living quarters, he knows what he will and has to write. His job for the next month is to write down his everyday routines, his every actions of that day, his emotions, his thoughts, his dreams, his beliefs, and everything that falls under the jurisdiction of thought and any signs of humanity; The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. He registers his thumb print routinely and serenely floats past the cardboard enforced window, opens the door to his room, concluding the trip home. He opened the black flap concealing the clear touch screen diary. He placed his finger on the cold hard screen and began to write:
Today I woke up, said my pledge of allegiance to the President, then I went to get my diary.
“Lies,” he said silently to himself. The punishment for lying, even for such a small crime such as forgetting to pledge to the President every morning is arrest and would most likely lead to torture, eventually leading to death. Climbing his ladder of lies higher, he quickly deleted the words, although he knows it wouldn’t do much. They had full view of his digital diary, 24 hour surveillance of what he was writing; as if they couldn’t wait until the end of the month to discover what was hidden within the tablet of glass.
I was extremely tired when I awoke from a refreshing sleep so the daily pledge must have slipped my mind. I shall do so now.
He stood up, faced the camera and began to recite:
“My name is Josephus and my name does not matter. I pledge allegiance to the President of this great land, the land that belongs to you. I am nothing without you. You are the source in which I am provided my very existence. I have never, will never, could never betray you. I will not bite the hand that feeds. Thank you.”
He then put his hands together, placing his thumb on his right hand with the thumb on his left, followed placing his index finger with the index finger on the opposite hand forming a triangle or pyramid. He placed the camera within this triangle surrounded by fingers and bowed, eyes closed; a gesture expressing your gratitude to the President.
He had never met the President, and he knows he would never meet the President. He has only seen the President once; a few years ago his television provided him with a tall, slender man surrounded by body guards in black suits. He was fascinated by this uniform they wore with such elegance and prosperity. Josephus had never seen any outfit besides his own; a solid pale, grey collared shirt with black pants and white shoes. This was the uniform forcefully worn by every citizen, the President and his bodyguards being the only exception. That was the one and only time he had seen his President, but he did not need to see his president, you do not need to see the man giving you orders. But he knew he was correct about everything, always. He loved President Campbell, because he was told to do so. He stood up from his creaking chair, tucks in his shirt into his pants and nonchalantly stepped outside of the door. He heard a strange scream from his neighbor’s room, it wasn’t necessarily loud but it didn’t need to be for him to hear it. For the buildings they lived in normally housed 5-10 people, this building (Building #48) housed approximately 7. A relatively small building compared to the enormous buildings that made up this city, or what was left of it. Every whisper, cough and sneeze would be heard by everyone in the house, including the President according to the newly installed microphones in every room of the building.
Josephus, the man in the room bordering Josephus’, and the other 5 building-mates were the inhabitants of Building #48. He had only spoken to each of his housemates once; including the prior housemates. Josephus had lived in the house since he was 6, the first batch of students of a government program were failures and had to evacuate the building. Josephus hardly recalls a vague memory of the moments, but not long enough to organize the thought.
He rarely sees his housemates registering their thumbprint and gliding into their room, and when he does he is too shocked to speak. Josephus vaguely remembers adjusting his neck to place his eyes directly at the source in which the scream was heard. The door was cracked, but before he noticed he was already past the window, registering his thumbprint and out of the door.
Everyone in this building except Josephus had been subjects of a government program establishing a year after Josephus was born. The “Youth Eternity Program” or “YEP” for short, was designed to diminish the rational thought process, adult behavior, uninstructed thought and action and overall to limit the value of individualism. The process is simple; a child is born, it is handed to the Building of Youth and is instructed to participate in activities, watch Government produced films, and is taught daily from the President himself, via intercom and computer. Those not willing to participate are taken away, never to be seen again. The children are released at the age of 18, but their age process is different from Josephus’ (physically and mentally), and then placed in their permanent home. From Josephus’ point of view, they are childish, mindless individuals but perfect products of the suzerainty government nonetheless.
It was almost 6 o’clock now; meal time was arriving in the usual fashion so Josephus decided to venture to the Building of Nourishment. On his journey, he observed the world around him as he had never done before. A hovering ship passed overhead, he had just thought where it could be going. He had always seen the ships, and knew that their sole purpose was to monitor behavior, and the omnipotent ship made him feel safe. The world was completely grey, thick layers of dust expanded over the destroyed city. A building crumbled in the distance as Josephus got on the ground, feet and hands flat on the cracked concrete. After a war, (no war in particular, there had been so many wars since Josephus was born that he had given up on keeping track of when and when they weren’t in war with other countries,) buildings had been destroyed, disabled, obliterated, and most had been hanging by threads of concrete latching on to the remaining pillars supporting the typically large structures. Usually when buildings finally plunged to the ground, accepting their forsaken destiny, dust would be so thick it would cease the nostrils ability to inhale and exhale. But this building was at such a distance away that it had little effects on Josephus or his nostrils. When he finally made it to the Building of Nourishment, he grabbed a paper tray and got in line, there were at least 250 citizens in line. The population was scarce, due to all the wars; so scarce that the census was now taken by subtracting the deaths in war, executed prisoners, and suicides. After approximately 35 minutes, a nozzle extracted from the blank white ceiling and provoked Josephus with a simple question “What would you like today?” In an almost human voice, but not quite. Josephus answered calmly “I would like bread and a hamburger please.” The machine answered almost immediately “No, you just want bread.” “You’re right. I want bread.” Answered Josephus. He ate his meal surrounded by citizens of the city that no longer had a name. Josephus was lucky that he had a name, now numbers had taken the place of names, for example his neighbors name was #214. Josephus was quite possibly, probably the only remaining citizen with a name, all of the named individuals were sent to war at the age of 18. The difference lied in Josephus’ eyes. He had oddly colored eyes; one crystal blue and one a clear, light brown. The government panicked at this site, the usual ritual was to rid of the child at birth, shortly followed by executing the mother. This difference was a small one, yet not big enough; also it would be a wise investment to study the difference in behavior and responsive nature with the humans raised in the YEP program. After executing the mother (this was the hard part, finding a mother that not even meet her child, when children were born they were immediately sent to the government for briefing, the number of children to one mother varied from tens to hundreds, none ever meeting their family) cameras and government attention were strategically focused on Josephus, he wasn’t aware of this of course.
After his nutritious meal, he debated with himself on which activity he would partake in next. It was getting quite dark now; the sun was slowly creeping into its contemporary hiding place. He had a few options; go home, escape, or die. He chose home. He arrived at Building #48 as usual, forcing his thumb on a small blue device, creeping past the cardboard venting window, but on his way into his room his eyes couldn’t help but notice his neighbor’s (#214) door was still partially cracked. He quickly formed a plan. On rare occasion Josephus was insomniac and noticed that after a certain hour his personal security camera would shut off after they believed he was asleep, so if he was lucky enough to capture one of these rare moments he would sneak off into his neighbor’s room and talk to him. It was a radical idea; the monstrosity of his plan shocked and frightened him.
Josephus’ finger plunged onto the clear cold surface of the diary and he began to write:
I decided to take part in today’s meal, I told the machine I wanted bread and a hamburger but it told me I just wanted bread. Which is right. I am feeling awfully tired, I shall take comfort in my tempting bed. Goodnight.
He plunged into his bed, flipped his protective sheet of cotton over his body and pretended to close his eyes. He watched the camera closely. Waiting on this risky event to take place, Josephus forgot if he was awake or not; nothing seemed real. The world seemed to fade before his half-closed eyes when the cameras lens slowly closed its all-seeing eye. He sprung out of his bed, reached for the door knob and slowly twisted as his eye fixated between the crack of the door and the sleeping camera. He wasn’t sure if he was thinking anymore, he had no time to think. This was a life threatening act; the smallest mistake would send him into eternal darkness. Just as he was going to trudge through the door, what looked like 6 police men were waiting on #214’s door. Dressed in black suits, armed with rifles, pistols and riot shields. Josephus knows he must get back to bed before they notice he is not currently asleep and safely in his resting place. They seem to be focused on his partner’s room though. “What are they doing here? Should I be seeing this?” Josephus quickly said to himself, his mind darting. They pulled out a big black ramming object and destroyed his neighbor’s door; wood chips bouncing off of every surface. The police men were out of his sight, the last sight to be seen in his line of vision was a vanguard policeman armed with a riot shield rushing into the room. Muffled screams rung through the building. Josephus bolted to his bed, assuming the position of sleep. His attempts at acting asleep were magnificent. Yet not enough to cease his curiosity. Without thought, he cracked his door open once again and peeked through, what he saw was terrifying. #214’s arms and legs were being clutched tightly by armed policemen. His bloodcurdling screams escaping directly into Josephus’ ears. In a deep husky voice #214 yelled “YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! MY THOUGHTS ARE HERE! THEY’LL BE HERE ANY MINUTE! IF YOU CAN TAKE ANYTHING, YOU CAN’T TAKE MY...” With this final scream, Josephus’ and #214’s eyes met with subtlety. They both lay quiet. This was the first and last time they’re eyes would meet. So close to each other, yet galaxies away. The building lay quieter than ever as #214 accepted his fate. 7 housemates minus 1. The screams stayed with Josephus as he lay down to a much needed rest. If only he had talked to him sooner, he could have helped. But he knows he must accept it, and prepare for the morning; for the following day his new housemate should be arriving and should be greeted with much pleasantry. He looked up and noticed the camera’s lens had been pried open.
Part II: The Aftermath
When he awoke in the morning Josephus wearily wiped his eyes with his right hand, his blue eye was seemingly incapable of being opened. He quickly scraped the crust seeping out of his now gaping eye. As he succeeded in this task, the events of last night came rushing at him which reminded him of #214’s eyes meeting with his own. This was the first time Josephus had ever stared into someone’s eyes; the thought of such contact seemed repulsive. He thought of the cries, the final screams and the acceptance of torture and death as he was being carried out of the building. As these thoughts were rushing through his mind, a new one erupted; he has a new neighbor to greet. He didn’t understand the value or reasoning of meeting and greeting the new neighbor, he knows very well that he will speak to him once, their conversation soon to be forgotten; easily mistaken with the dust formed by hovering ships above crumbling buildings. He set his legs on the ground, now facing the wall. As the rest of his body erected and stiffened, he stood up and recited the pledge.
“My name is Josephus and my name does not matter. I pledge allegiance to the President of this great land, the land that belongs to you. I am nothing without you. You are the source in which I am provided my very existence. I have never, will never, could never betray you. I will not bite the hand that feeds. Thank you.”
He naturally opened his diary, placed his finger on the glass screen and began to write:
Last night was dreamless. I heard screaming last night but my body was too heavy to stand. I expect to be meeting a new neighbor today; I heard the screams being carried out of the doors.
He quickly buttoned up his collared grey shirt, pulled up his plain black pants, tied his shoes and headed out of the door. There was a line of 5 people outside of the arriving neighbor’s door. He stood in line, conforming to the straight grey arrow pointing into #214’s former room. He waited as everyone slowly addressed and complimented the new housemate. The stranger occupying the strange room had a tall lanky body, his eyes sunk deep into his face and his cheek bones lied low in his muscular face. He was now in the room, identical to Josephus’, as expected. The new housemate was standing in the middle of the room; Josephus approached him with a wide grin on his face displaying his false affection. He shook his hand oddly firm and stable; the tall man spoke and said “Hi! I’m #246 nice to meet you!” Josephus responded blandly, compared to #246’s greeting “Hey. Nice to meet you as well, my name is Josephus.” As Josephus spoke his name #246’s eyes widened with surprise. Josephus was used to this, although he wasn’t sure if it was his eyes or his name. He looked down and noticed his shoe was untied. The next visitor brushed past him as he went to the corner of the room, knelt down and began to tie his shoe. He couldn’t help but notice a blue leather bound diary on the ground in front of him, lying between the wall and the carpet, almost blending in with the toneless rug. He looked back at the two strangers greeting each other “Hi! I’m #246 nice to meet you!” The new neighbor recited. Josephus sent his foot in the direction of the diary, stiffened his back foot while quickly grabbing the diary and obscurely tucked it in his waistband. He exited the room, opened his door and sat down on his bed as he equipped his own diary with both hands. He began to write:
His name is #246. He is very nice and a handsome young man, a fantastic product of the Youth Eternity Program. If only I was so lucky to have been born and sent to YEP, perhaps I would be a better person.
Josephus pretended to make his bed, as he was sliding his pillow case onto his pillow, his back facing the camera, he placed his discovery into the pillow case. He sat down and waited for dinner time. There was a scarcity of meals, since the wars occupied so many of the skilled citizens and their meals are obviously more important than Josephus’. Hours passed; there was a fading color of the walls in his room. It appeared to be white, but as you started deeper into the reflecting blandness it seemed to fade into grey. He drifted off into a daze. His eyelids became heavier as the boredom overcame his curiosity. His curiosity of what lied in that journal. He mustn’t think of it, curiosity is a dangerous thing. A bad thing.
He woke up just in time; but oddly he was not hungry, but inquisitive. But he knows it would seem suspicious if he abstained from dinner. So he ventured out of his room, past the window infested with dying cardboard, placed his thumb on the blue scanning device and was out of his house with rhythmic acceleration. He arrived at the Building of Nourishment as usual, asked for bread and a burger as usual, was abruptly corrected as usual, and then ate bread and bread in a brick house of solitude as usual. He then made his familiar journey home; Josephus heard a camera fixate on him in the distance. He opened his door, registered with the blue device, walked past the window; there was something new about the window. Its habitual appearance was altered, there was a camera installed into the wall above it. Josephus pretended not to notice, he wished he hadn’t notice it; but it’s hard not to notice difference when every day seems to be a replica of the prior evening. He sat down, gripped his diary with dignity and began to write:
I asked for bread and a burger at dinner today, and then it said I wanted just bread, which is right. Goodnight.
As he undressed himself, it was hard to hide his anticipation. He pounced onto his bed as he slipped out of his clothes. He lay on his pillow; he slid his hands in the pillow case and laid the stranger’s diary on the small space on the cold bed next to him. It was a tiresome process, to read the diary while hiding from the omnipresent camera. He waited on the camera to blink. To show signs of sleep, he needed to know it wasn’t watching him; he needed freedom. He stared at the blue leather binding that surrounded the mysterious tablet of glass that was once his neighbor’s diary. The camera blinked. Josephus stiffened and sat up, now hunching over the diary. He peeled back the leather that concealed the words he had done nothing but think about. His eyes widened as he read the following words:
Day 1: I woke up this morning then went to get my diary. I stared a man I had never met in the eyes as he handed me something that shouldn’t exist. He delivers my poison, only to be forgotten in the dust. I didn’t go eat; I have more important things to do.
Day 2: Last night, I thought. You, my President are evil. You have done nothing but taught me to suppress my thoughts. I see through your lies, without natural thought what are we? What does that make you, God? I’ll be condemned if I am going to sit here and watch you figuratively and literally destroy me. The Revolution will be here soon, before you can even register what I said in your tiny little useless brain. They’re here.
Josephus was not emotionally prepared for this passage he had re-read over and over. He, as long as everyone, had deceptive thoughts but they weren’t real, that’s what the President said, right? “The President said that these thoughts don’t exist, it’s all imagination. But the diary. Is there a Revolution? Where is it? Should I report this?” Josephus said to himself. What he did and didn’t believe was a blur. It seemed that everything he has come to know has changed in a single second. The word Revolution rung and echoed in his head. He had only heard the word once, in his classes in school as a child. He had been taught that people involved in revolutions were fat, atrocious looking people who fed off hate and lust. They were a disgusting species, though rationality tells Josephus this can’t be true. The people that came and took #214, were they puppets of the President or syndicates of a revolution? How would one go about getting in touch with such a preposterous group? Josephus wouldn’t sleep that night, his thoughts prevented normal living form occurring. He had to get in touch with these people, had to know they exist.
The following morning, Josephus didn’t say the pledge. He got dressed, wrote in his diary:
Another dreamless sleep.
Josephus waited until lunch time to arrive before he moved a muscle; he had spent the whole day organizing his thoughts. He drearily ate lunch in silence. His thoughts brought him to many conclusions. He organized himself and quietly said aloud “All mindless individuals. Unique, diverse human beings suppressed by this government and society. Human contact, thoughts, ideas, should be inevitable, not impossible. I need to leave this place.” By the time he said this all he noticed he was almost shouting. Heads turned and stared at the named man as he tripped walking out of the building. He was walking home when his eyes were attracted to the man walking in front of him. His gray suit prevented Josephus from discovering his identity. His shoes clapped against the cold gravel. It wasn’t long when Josephus determined the concealed identity of the character. It was his new neighbor, his body tall and lanky, walking unaware in front of Josephus. He heard a camera fixate on the two individuals, one worthy of the title “individual.” He watched #246’s feet as they progressed from a small stepped stride, into an intense sprint. Josephus, now puzzled, looked around him. Josephus spotted 6 men running towards him at a dangerous speed. They were seemingly the same men that escaped with #214’s lifeless body. “Is this the Revolution? Oh it has to be!” Josephus thought. A small smile erupted on Josephus’ face. They rushed towards him, tackled him to the solid unyielding cement, and laid him against the wall of the closest building. Josephus clutched the cloth attached to one man’s shoulder as the man whispered to him “In the name of President Campbell.” This man equipped his pistol, placed it on Josephus’ temple and sent a bullet flying directly, unmistakably through his head. Blood splattered on the remnants of a disintegrating building, the sonic boom created by the gun sent the sound ringing and echoing into the empty sky. The shadow of a hovering ship blanketed Josephus’ lifeless body as the strangers dragged his body through the vacant wasteland.