Part 4 Chapter 1 (Epilogue)
Footsteps coule be heard from all the way down the hall; the stomping sounds resounding against the white walls of the Ministry of Love. A large man was wiping a sort of crimson substance on his black overalls, and putting the safety lock on his laser. He was soon joined by another man, smaller, younger, and quite out of breath when he finally caught up.
"Why this one, O'Brien?" He asked between gasps.
O'brien, now polishing his weapon, glanced back at a limp body wearing blue overalls being escorted from the room he once occupied a few moments earlier.
"Comrade Nelson, you will soon come to realize that you enjoy finishing the work you started." O'Brien stated in a menacing tone.
"Will i also be 'interrogating' political prisoners?" Nelson questioned.
"Not at first. There are supreme differences between Inner Party and Outer Party, Comrade. The Party placed you under my tutelage to explore that statement. You will be instructing traitors to Big Brother in no time, but it takes a while to have the privilege of un-existing them." He stroked his gun almost lovingly, and continued. "Your first act is to send a memo to the Fiction Department to erase prisoner 55029, should there be any historical record of him." Then he added a second though; "Comrade Julia, I should think. She would enjoy this job especially. Oh, and get rid of this."
O'brien handed a book to Nelson.
"Did this belong to 55029?" He asked.
"Yes. It's his diary."
* * *
As Nelson walked home that night, he couldn't place what was bothering him. It could be that his recent promotion to the Inner Party hadn't granted him freedom from the Party as he had expected, or it could be what was concealed in the brief case thumping against his leg while he walked.
He didn't mean to steal the diary, but he was casually flipping through it on his way to the memory hole earlier when a phrase caught his eye:
"If there is hope, it lies in the proles."
It gnawed at him all day. He had not personally known the author, now Unperson 55029, and if he showed general interest toward any unpersons, who knows what could happen? Yet, why was this unperson talking about hope in the first place? As far as Nelson was concerned, hope had gotten this character an appointment with O'Brien's laser, all the while blubbering about how much he loved Big Brother. "Everyone ends their life in this way." O'Brien had stated, cocking his gun. "I had a personal hand in the rebirth of this particular one though, 5 years ago."Nelson reached his new home, and was greeted by his manservant. He handed over his jacket, but withheld the brief case.
"Uh ha, I'm just going to finish up some work before going to bed. You are free to uh...do what you normally do, Edgar." Nelson still needed time to get used to living with another person.
"Yes sir. I will retire for the night." Edgar went into the other room.
Nelson went over and clicked the telescreen, almost showing personal pleasure at the ability to turn it off. He gained composure though, and went over to his brief case, pulling out the diary.
In the course of one evening, he read the diary front to back, with utter fascination and hatred springing up inside of him at the same time. What affected him the most was the amount of people who die as a true martyr, although unknown to anyone, including themselves. But what could he do? He certainly wasn't a prole, and unperson 55029 didn't succeed in his quest in taking down Big Brother. Nelson then realized the sacrifice he needed to make, making a mental appointment for something else to be Un-existed. And that was Big Brother
Several weeks had passed. A smaller, younger looking man walked down several alleys towards the prole section of town. He was wearing a jacket that concealed what looked to be black overalls. Pushing out any Anti-Party thoughts, he made his way through a crowd of proles looking for a face, any face that showed a sign of intelligence. Finally spotting one right in the middle of the crowd, he made his way over to a large woman surrounded by children.
They stood staring each other for 5 minutes. He then smiled, enjoying the stretch and feeling his eyes crinkle. He presented the journal to her with his right hand. In his left was a concealed pistol, in which he gave a salute, raised to his smiling mouth and pulled the trigger.
There was a massive riot in the square after the gunshot; only the woman and her children realized WHY policemen were roughing up the crowd. Being treated badly (for no reason) didn't go over too well with the proles. It was a brutal massacre, most Outer Party members pitched in against the police, as well as a few Inner Party.
Making her way to safety, the woman looked at the diary, reading "Knowledge is strength, which leads to freedom, ultimately resulting in peace. Down with Big Brother!!!' engraved on the front. In the years to come, Winston's diary would become the new 'Book', in a world where there was no darkness, and people would live freely at last.
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