The Enforcer - A short story

By: Olivia Railton 

The building was the same as any other; almost unnoticeable. That is, apart from the vibrancy that spilled from its doors and windows, with cheerful chatter floating on the air like jovial music. This was thanks to the people inside. Creativity hummed in the air as if it was a living thing, and individualism was celebrated with colour and style – individual style. The way people dress, talk, think and act is what defines them, and each and every person crafts themselves to their own definition. They are noticed by each other and accepted, no matter of their differences, for we all have different ideologies, do we not? But that was the beginning of the problem. They were noticed.

It is not a problem at first, but a man makes it so – in his mind. He sits at a desk in a grey, dim room, tapping his fingers on the wood in a monotonous rhythm as he contemplates this ‘problem’. In this room, he keeps himself segregated from the students outside, the rush of individuals all housing a tangle of stories, thoughts, feelings and opinions was too much for him to handle. They are noticed, – he thinks – and if they are noticed that means there will be opinions and judgements formed. Granted, some may be agreeable, however some will not be so congenial to his taste’s as a manager of the establishment. Surely it would be better to have no extreme opinions at all, if some could be on the negative end of the scale? As soon as the idea is formed, it is locked firmly into place in his mind, and none of those sharing the office try to deter him, as their fingers all drum in time on their respective desks. The idea takes shape in the form of a student-wide decree, and the man, along with his adherents, are to be known as the Enforcers.

Decrees are found everywhere, as the Enforcers ingrain the new laws on the impressionable minds of their students. Soon enough these young individuals are learning that the Enforcers are quite determined to be obeyed. Hair in crimson reds and sapphire blues are quickly hidden by a non-specific shade of faded brown. Clothing that could once identify an independent person is masked by the all-encompassing grey of a uniform that, although it has not changed in the basic principles, has pedantically removed all room for original touches – that spark of creativity and individuality.

Those who cling to their ideology are swiftly pursued by the man and his network of Enforcers, and locked away where their creativity cannot spread or disturb the balance of new order. They are a contagion, the man thinks, and they must be quarantined. They are ushered into what could be considered the drunk-tank of a world ‘corrupted by individualism’ – that was an idea the man had borne and become accustomed to, as he found the phrase rather pleasing. Empty faces line the walls of a non-descript prison, sitting in a perpetually workless state, wondering why they even bother living. They did not conform and so they will fail – is what they are told – leading to a life unworthy of living. All the while the students who conformed are being prepared for tests, the gateway to work and money – life, they call it. They are told what to write and how to write it. Enforcers dictate to them what the students’ own thoughts and feelings are, or at least, what they should be when they write their essays. It is not learning. It is a memory game. Roll the dice and pick a card, any card. This is your memory; this is what you have to work with.

The click of non-regulation heels is audible down a long corridor. The sound reverberates off beige walls, where a few limp posters hang, unnoticed. They used to encourage diversity. The heels are attached to an Enforcer, who keeps her feet as far as possible from the grey floor panels where students tread anxiously, heads down. 

Student Voices short stories

The Enforcer - A short story The Enforcer - A short story Reviewed by Admin on 09:21 Rating: 5

No comments:

Share your views here! But read our Comment Policy first, found on the about page.

Powered by Blogger.