The Letter

By Srishti Bhandary (12K) & Keerthi Mahadevan (11M)

I could see an envelope stuck on the door of my house. Time seemed to

freeze as I slowly made my way to the door, and the horrors that lay within the

envelope. My hands shook and my heart beat faster as I picked the envelope

gently, as if there was a bomb inside. Silva, my name, was written neatly on the

front. I knew that writing, it was the writing that had been haunting my dreams

for the past month.

Some would say that this feeling is very much like getting your acceptance

or repentance letter from battle simulations. These simulations are like tests and

they keep throwing challenges your way to see if you are compatible enough to

live in Sangard. At this point, I really wish it was a letter from my battle

simulations. Because what I was witnessing was far more daunting. There I was

standing in my bare backyard next to my mailbox; almost about to discover what

the rest of my life holds for me. This letter would reveal my true identity. I

would finally know my role in Sangard and the fact that I have no idea what it

might be is what haunts me.

Part of me considered not opening it, I was scared, I didn’t want to know

what horrors laid within that letter. The letter that would change my life

forever. However, how long could I avoid this for? What if I went into hiding?

What if I disguised myself? All of these thoughts raced through my head but none

of them seemed like a viable option. The Sabers (private security for the capital

of Sangard) would most definitely find me no matter where I went or how I

looked. At this point, opening the letter seemed like the only option I had left. I

gathered all the courage I had and slowly began to open the letter. There it was

in big bold letters: YOU HAVE BEEN ASSIGNED THE ROLE OF A KEEPER.

I stood in what seemed like deadly silence, bewildered. I expected many

things from this letter. Being assigned a Keeper wasn’t one of them. Not at all.

Let me tell you a little about myself. I’m Silva- an honest and open person.

I cannot keep secrets, and I'm almost always diplomatic. I have opinions on

everything, but I don't choose a side. I don’t have the best of memories. My

personality isn’t the best, but I love who I am. Now let me tell you what a Keeper

does. A Keeper is basically a person with sensitive information. The only people

with reliable information are the Keepers. They live in random communities, and

get a new identity. They’re like undercover spies for long parts of their lives.

Sometimes they get new identities if they are being deported. So Keepers

basically lie about their whole life. This definitely seems like a mistake. I’d do a

better job at being a Saber than a Keeper. I cannot be a keeper. I continued to

read the rest of the letter.

‘You have 24 hours to report to the headquarters. You are only allowed to

carry one piece of belonging that connects you to your past life. Everything else

should be left behind. You cannot inform your friends or family about where you

are going. Don’t try to escape. We will find you.’

Being a Keeper is considered to be one of the most respected careers in

Sangard. You have got to be physically fit and mentally strong. Rumour has it that

even the President's son did not qualify to become a Keeper. Why me? I possess

none of these qualities. A job in the local circus would have suited me much

more, but alas, I had no choice. I went to bed straightaway because I knew the

nightmares that haunted me in my sleep would still be much better than reality.

I woke up like I was hooked on mains. No sleepiness, no slow warming up.

Within seconds of realizing I was conscious, I was on my feet, eyes wide, dreams

not just forgotten but erased. Aside from my own noisy breath, there is nothing

to be heard and the woods were simply too dark to see much at all. I picked up a

locket, the last gift I had received from Jack before he had disappeared, and

made my way to the headquarters.

Sangard is one of the most beautiful countries on our planet. It’s the

smallest which makes it the most developed and progressive. It’s supreme quality

is that it has high tech cities and also cities that are hidden in forests and nature.

My family raised me in a city called Lunatier which means moon forest. Both my

parents were nature lovers and so named me Silva - forest in Latin.

I had to take a tram into the city. I made my way to the station while

carefully assessing the position of the locket on my neck. Trams seem like

primitive ways of transport, and they were about 70 years ago. Today, they’re

designed very differently, but they’re still called the same because apparently

that’s preserving history. These trams are like transparent cylindrical enclosed

spaces. People can see everything from the inside, but from the outside it looks

like grey carriages. They’re operated on rails and there’s a beautiful network all

throughout the country. It all seems so complex and yet so simple. But Sangard

was designed beautifully only to elude the projects undercover.

The train was so sleek, running over the tracks so fast that the passing

greenery became a hazy blur. The rain beat on the roof like a drummer. Inside,

the train was a curious mixture of cosy and bored, all the passengers itching for

their destination to arrive. Except me, I wished this train ride would last longer.

It was the calm before the storm.

I watched as the train visibly became emptier after every stop. I looked

around the train to see if anyone else was still on it. This was when I caught a

glimpse of a man, at least I thought it was a man. I couldn’t really make out. This

person was wearing a black hoodie, hiding his face. I was trying to get a better

glimpse of him, but the train stopped. My heart raced, I had reached the

headquarters. This was it.

I got out of my seat and made my way onto the platform with my locket

clenched in my fist. I had just stepped on the platform when someone tapped me

on my shoulders. I turned to see the same man in the black hoodie. Except now I

could see his face. His skin was tanned. He had prominent cheekbones and a well-

defined nose. His beard clung to his face like moss on a dry rock. I looked up and

looked into his eyes. Those brown eyes seemed way too familiar. I was just going

to scream ‘JACK!’ when I felt a piercing pain on my neck and I began to drop. My

body hit the ground and my eyes began to shut. The last thing I remember seeing

was Jack towering over me with what seemed like a syringe in his hand.

My head pierced with pain, I opened my eyelids just enough to know that I

was conscious. I took at least a minute to open them completely. My mouth tasted

bitter. I was lying on a metal board in a grey circular room with a high-rise

ceiling. I started to remember the tram and me getting out. After that I was

blank. It’s like that part of my memory was removed. After a few seconds, I felt

this unexplainable feeling come over me. I felt so insecure and disturbed. And

then I knew why.

I saw Jack after I got out of the tram. I saw my best friend. I saw my whole

support system, the one who had disappeared on me 3 years ago, stab me with a

syringe. I broke after he left. I knew it had something to do with his letter. But

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have my doubts.

Just when my brain was helping my body assemble its parts back together,

someone pulled my shoulder sidewards from behind. Usually this doesn’t induce

shock but I was too floppy to take notice of my environment. I jerked sideways

and fell off the metal surface. I scratched my wrist which, of course, started to

bleed. As you can understand by now, my flimsy body is another reason why being

assigned a Keeper was WRONG for me.

I looked up and saw him. I saw Jack after 3 years. Well, technically I saw

him outside the tram, but I was lovingly stabbed with a syringe – who knows, I

might even let it pass if he had a good reason.

“I’m sorry.” said Jack.

“SORRY!? Really? That’s all?” I screamed .”You left me alone Jack! For

three years I’ve been wondering what went wrong. I spent days sitting on the

porch waiting for you to show up, maybe you’d just gone for some work. How

could you just leave? Do you know how many times I searched the house expecting

to find a note somewhere! I would keep telling myself that there’s got to be an

explanation to this, that you wouldn’t leave me all alone without saying anything.

But that’s what you did, didn't you? You selfish asshole!”

Jack looked at me and he knew that there was something in my shout, a

pain behind it. He watched my eyes. Then he knew. The anger was nothing but a

shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared

for his life, lonely, desperate.

“Listen I can explain, calm down.” How could Jack just expect me to calm

down? I had three years of bottled up emotions ready to burst out, but then I

convinced myself to listen to him, to give him one last chance.

“Three years ago I got a letter.” he said. “A letter telling me I’d been

assigned the role of a Keeper. That’s why I left without saying anything. Just like

you, I was on my way to the headquarters too, to report. That was when I was

approached by a stranger. He warned me and told me I could get away from all of

this, that I had a chance to run. I was scared, I’ve never wanted to be a Keeper

and I knew the dangers that came along with it. I didn’t know what to do, a part

of me was afraid I would get caught, but another part of me saw hope; hope for a

better life. So I listened to my gut and decided to go with him. We got off the

train and dodged the guards at the station. We then rushed through this passage

that was well hidden behind a board. We ran for hours and then we finally

emerged from what seemed to be like a long tunnel into this whole new city. A

city I could only dream about seeing.” And that’s when the stranger said,

“Welcome to Freeridge!”

“So you ran?” I exclaimed. Jack let out a sigh of disappointment. It seemed

like he thought I didn’t listen to what he was saying. So I continued. “Jack,

maybe this was supposed to happen. Keepers are secretive people and reporting

to a crowded headquarters doesn’t align with the role. Tell me, what you’ve been

doing in Freeridge and I might consider believing a word you just said.” Jack’s

face looked twisted, as though his secret had been revealed. Then he smirked as

he looked at the side of my face. He said, “This is why you were assigned a

Keeper.”

“Your mind works very differently. It’s like solving a mathematical

equation using your own formula. Normally, most people wouldn’t ask that or

even think like that. Fear would take control and they’d run. But Keepers don’t

run away from fear. They run directly towards it. This is where your test begins.

You won’t get to do your job until you get training.” I didn’t know what to believe

anymore. I couldn’t differentiate lies from honesty. But I knew I had to react. I

had to have an opinion and had to make a decision. Finally, I said, “Jack, if that’s

still your name, I don't know why I should believe you and come with you. Maybe

this is a test too. You have to help me a little here and tell me the truth. Is

Freebridge real? Is that where I get my training?”

Jack was impressed, but he knew he couldn’t test my patience. At some

point, lies can turn into madness. He told me, “What I am going to say now is the

truth. I know you’re confused by my behaviour and I understand because I wasn't a

secretive person. But know this: Being a Keeper will change you. It would be like

getting a new identity. But it’s not always as bad as people say, being a Keeper.

It’s one hell of a ride. Freeridge sounds made up for sure, but it’s real. It’s the

land of Keepers. Our head of Operations is there and that’s where you report.

Every year a Keeper is given the task to find the new letter holder. Since I knew

this year you were going to get your letter, I volunteered for the task. We are

supposed to bring you there but are also asked to test you along the way. You’re

not supposed to know this, but if a letter holder fails to pass the first test,

they’re supposed to be shot at point. I couldn’t let that happen to you.”

“Shot!” I screamed. Like I wasn't scared enough already, now I had to

actually worry about being shot! Just because I couldn't pass a stupid test. “What

is the test Jack? You have got to give me all the details about this test. I can’t

die.”

“Actually the test has already begun.” replied Jack.

“STARTED? WHAT? WHEN?”

“Silvia, the most important quality in a Keeper is their awareness. The fact

that you didn’t even notice me and I was easily able to drug you proves why you

are a wrong choice to become a Keeper.”

“I know... I’m not the right choice to become a Keeper. I’ve always known

that. But what do I do now? I’ve failed the test so I can’t go back. Help me get

somewhere safe Jack. A new country, a new life. I can do it, maybe you could

come too. Imagine Jack, you could get away from all the responsibilities of being

a Keeper.”

Jack turned his head to face me, I hoped he would agree to leave this mess

behind and run away with me. But that’s when I noticed the gun in Jack’s hand

and his fingers were on the trigger. The gunshot echoed deafeningly in the

confines of the room and I fell to the floor clutching my neck.

Real blood is nothing like movie blood, just as real death is nothing like

movie death. There is no amount of horror that can prepare a person for seeing

your life ebb from your own body, the hopelessness, the tearing of the soul that is

the departing from your body. But my numb body could not feel anything except

for the excruciating pain of his betrayal. All I could do was stare lifelessly at the

brown eyes that held the gun and a terrifying coldness I had never seen before. I

had always thought his eyes were golden, but looking at them now I could see no

trace of the vibrancy they once held, no trace of the man I once knew.

He put his black hoodie back on and, as he turned away from me, I could

swear I saw him shed a tear. I had to be mistaken, because how could an animal

like that feel bad after what he had done. My best friend had gone.

The pain that once burned like fire had faded away to an icy numbness.

Black filled the edges of my vision and the only thing I could hear was my own

heartbeat. My breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. I would be able to leave all

the pain of the betrayal behind. I closed my eyes as my fragile, human heart beat

one last time.

THE END