Winston Diary Part I

Chapter 1:
It is bright and cold outside today. The wind whips at my face and bites my nose. My cheeks are red and worn. For once, I was relieved to step into Victory Mansions. It was warm inside, and although the elevators are not in service (they never are), the building has its usual boiled cabbage and rag smell, and my ankle hurt as I walked up the stairs, I don't mind. I was just glad to be warm, and safe. I am not exactly safe, though. My telescreen is watching me right now. It stares me down, observes my every move. I have my back turned to it, so it cannot see me write. The telescreen is somewhat easy to hide from; it's the Thought Police that I have to worry about. They can read my mind, hear my every thought, and they will track me down, for Big Brother does not appreciate people in society who are against his ways. His ways are confusing, though! I mean, WAR IS PEACE? FREEDOM IS SLAVERY? IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH? How can any of that make sense? It doesn't. It just doesn't. I must go, for I need some gin and the begining of Hate is near.

Chapter 2:
It is morning and I needed a good night's sleep after yesterday. During the Hate, she sat right behind me! The girl -the dark haired girl! She sat right behind me! Yes, the beautiful and attractive one. The one in the Anti-Sex League. Her! She sat right behind me. She is following me, she is onto me, and she is determined to turn me in. I don't know who she is. I don't even know her name, but it doesn't matter. I hate her, and I know she hates me too. On top of the Hate incident, I was asked by Mrs. Parson's, who nearly casued me a heart attack at the door, to fix her sink. It was clogged with hair. I pulled the disgusting wad out of the dirty drain. The house stunk, it was a mess, but worst of all -her kids! They were out of control! Because she wouldn't let them go to the hanging, the little divils threw a fit! They started dancing and jumping around me, screaming in my face "Traitor! Traitor! You're a Eurasian spy! You're a thought criminal! I am going to shoot you!" And then, he shot me! With his little toy gun. He shot me -right in the back of the neck! It hurt, but I just brushed it off, and left Mrs. Parsons with her two kids, who some day would find a reason to turn her in. Some day, I am sure of it.

Chapter 3:
I dreamt of my mother last night, and woke up this morning feeling odd. I felt lonely, as if there was something missing in my life. I know gin will not fix this feeling, for it is a feeling of isolation, confusion, and total frustration. Frustration toward the fact that I can't remember my past. I can't remember my mother or my sister. I can't remember when they dissapeared, or how they dissapeared. I can't remember anything. I know this is the government's fault. It is big brother's fault. Who else could it be? I need to find a way to learn more of my past. The truth of my past -not some cover up lies that are used to make me forget about what really happened. The truth. But how? How do I find the truth when no one knows what the truth is?

Chapter 4:
Today was a bad day. First, I was yelled at for not doing my morning workout to the best of my abilities. I touched my toes without bending my knees for the first time in several years. Now I am sore. I am hurting all over. Even in my heart. I miss my mother and I miss my sister. And I wish I knew where they are.
Work was okay. Comrade Tillotson is up to somemthing. I know it. He crouches over his work secretly, and he gives me hostile glances that only cause me suspicion. Whatever it is that he is hiding, he is going to be punished for it.

Chapter 5:
Syme is going to be punished one day too. He knows too much, he is too smart, and too wise. They will punish him, maybe even kill him. He will just dissapear one day, and never be heard from again. That's what happens -to everyone. In fact, it could quite easily happen to me. I am not supposed to be writing in this diary. I could be in huge trouble. I could dissapear too. Anyways, back to Syme. I would really mind if he dissapeared. I don't like Syme. I find him annoying, boastful, and concieted. I don't like him. And I don't think Big Brother likes him either.

Chapter 6:
I remember that very night. I don't know why I did it. I loved my wife. I loved Katherine. I didn't love that prostitute. I didn't know her. She was old and ugly. I didn't want her. But I still did it. I still slept with her, and the memory has showered me with guilt and pain ever since. Katherine and I loved eachother. I should have tried harder to keep us together. I should have tried harder to have children. I should have cared for her more. But I didn't. I lost her, and now she is only in my past -my soon to be forgotten past.

Chpater 7:
If there is hope it lies in the proles. I need to do something. Today. I need to figure out about my past. I don't remember it, so I need someone else's help. I need the prole's help. They can help me figure out if this time is truly better than years ago.

Chapter 8:
I am close to finishing probably the most eventful day of my life. I went to visit the proles today. I needed to find out about the past. Although, I didn't find exactly what I was looking for, I did discover something. But I will start from the begining. I entered the area, and almost immediately people began screaming. They were not screaming at me, but at the sky. They were yelling warnings out, and it wasn't until one man yelled my way to get down that I noticed a rocket bomb coming toward the ground. It stopped as quickly as it had started. The rocket bomb hit the ground, and the screaming stopped. It was so odd, because people walked on as if nothing had happened. The bomb was falling, it fell, and it was over. That was it. It was as if it was a normal thing. I headed toward a pub near the top of an alley. Inside, there was a man. I needed to talk to him. I need to talk to him about the past. I picked a bad place to talk to him, though. he was drunk, and was absolutely no help what so ever. He just babbled on and on and on. I did discover something, though, from the store keeper. The store keeper who sold me this very diary a while back. He told me about the past. He sang a song. It was confusing, but some what helpful. He sold me a glass coral statue. It is beautiful. I don't know what I will use it for yet, but I will use it for somehthing. It was when I was coming out of the store that it happened. The biggest and most important, and probably scariest event of the day occured. I saw her. The dark-haired girl. The dark-haired girl that I ddon't know. She was following me, I am sure of it. She is trying to discover more about me. I have no doubt that she will turn me in. I almost killed her -with my glass coral. I almost did, but I didn't. Too bad I didn't. I should have because now she will turn me in, I will be punished, and I will be killed.