A Record, Beyond Repair

    I've never had the urge to change the world for the better or the worse. I've never wanted to make a difference, for fear of breaking my life beyond repair. All I've ever wanted was to live a normal life, with normal worries and accomplishments.
    "During the era of freedom, you didn't support the Global Association. Explain," the officer asked me. I had no idea how to respond. The truth was that I didn't support the Global Association not because I'd never heard of it (that was impossible), nor was it because I liked having freedom (like most people). It was because I wanted to be like everybody else; I didn't want to cause trouble. I can't believe how quickly that backfired. Maybe I should have seen it coming, but I didn't have a clue, even a little while after the Global Association became completely global.
    "I didn't understand the purpose of the Global Association," I said.
    "You are lying," the officer said. Was it a bluff?
    "I'm not," I said, because I had nothing else to say.
    "It's no use lying; the lie detector doesn't lie."
    Now I've really blown it, I thought.
    "Do you know what we do to liars?" the officer snarled.
    "No," I tried to answer, this time truthfully. But some how, I couldn't move my lips. In fact I didn't seem to have lips. Or legs. Or arms. Or a body at all. My eyes were gone, and my ears, my nose, my flesh, everything. I couldn't move and I couldn't sense. I waited for death.
    Wait, why am I still alive? I thought to myself.
    To torture me, I answered.
    So what do I do?
    Do what I've always done.
    What is that?
    What everybody else is doing.
    Which is?
    Trying to devise an escape plan.
    But how?
    I guess I don't know.
    So what do I do?
    Do what everybody else is doing...