Littérature anglaise

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Littérature anglaise

Cette nouvelle est l'oeuvre des 1L1 (de 2018-2019) et des TL1 (de 2019-2020).

 

Twenty-five days

In a bedroom, someone’s sleeping. It's a man, he is of average height. He is blond and has short hair, as well as a scar on his right eye and he has an unshaven beard. The walls of the room are red and there are just a bed, a clock, a tv set, and a camera on the right of the bed. It's six o'clock and the clock starts speaking.
« It's six o clock, wake up, colored Alessandro ! » the clock declares .
« Oh, I just want to sleep ! » Alessandro moans.
« Calling the police in three, two... » the clock insists.
« Ok, I'm getting up ! » he answers.
« You are late, go and watch the national movie now ! »
« Pff, again ? Ok... »
The man takes his clothes on the bed, the clothes are light brown with a « W » on the shirt and he touches the T.V screen.
At this moment the T.V turns on and says...
« It was the war... the « Big War ». North Korea and the U.S.A sent missiles on the world. The Earth was destroyed but three countries were not destroy because they had signed an agreement. The U.S.A, China and our country, England. But after the war, migrants came, and for the protection of the « Real English » the « Great President » created two classes. The « High » and the « colored ».
The migrants are the « colored », and they must wear different uniforms according to their nationality. To make a great country, the migrants must work on factories for the High.
The High are the « Real English » and have all the rights on the colored, they can steal, punch and kill them, because all the problems of the English are caused by the migrants. Goodbye and don't forget, work hard for England because England works hard for you ! »

« Pf, bunch of racists !» Alessandro exclaims
« It's six thirty am, the colored must go to work. » the clock says
« Hey, I did'nt take my breakfast ! »
« »GO TO WORK ! » the clock shouts.
While about to go to work, Alessandro looks at a box. It was his mother's but he can’t not open it. However, as he opens the door to go to work, a countdown appears on the box.
Alessandro satares at the number on the box. It reads 25.
« Twenty five days ? Before what ? »

Chapter 1
 
While I'm walking in the corridors, someone calls my name. I turn my head and see my friend. My only friend, Nora. She is a migrant too, a Spanish one but our former nationality doesn't matter here, now. The only thing which is important to the « Real England » is work. They want us to work hard everyday because they saved us in the past. I can't say that they actually saved us when I see what is happening here right now.
            While I'm thinking about this, Nora begins to speak. I have forgotten her presence because of those damn dictators who make me crazy…
“Hi Al !”, she says to me. “I like when she calls me like that”.
“Hi, how are you ?” I smile and I resume walking because I don't want to be late, again.
“Like everyday and you ?”
“Same here.”
            We go to work together because she's also a colored like me. I really like this girl, she’s my only friend. I only hope that the government will not forbid bonding for the colored, it's the only thing good here. But after all, I think that we can't fall any further down.
            So far, this day hasn’t been not very good. He ticking of the working clock, I would have dozed off on my broom. I knew I shouldn't have stayed up so late last night. We have a curfew to go back to our rooms, but the government lets us go to sleep when we want as long as we wake up in the morning. It's one of the only things that's not totally forbidden in their monitoring us. Apart from that, everything is planned, absolutely everything ! We have to work at strict hours and eat only at night and in the morning. We live in little apartments devoid of joy that we cannot even decorate as we wish. But I don't know why we can sleep when we want. I always thought it was a move from the government so that we couldn't get up in the morning and be whipped by the police. Well, the police... more like the militia. They can do whatever they want ! They can hit us as they wish or do whatever they want like, for example, steal our food. We only eat in the morning and at night, but with them...  Such a rotten system we live in ! This world’s insane ! This very world who said that human being were equal and free. When I see all of this there's no freedom and no equality. Only human beings who work hard for other human beings. Was it this world who also said, there would be no slavery any more. I can't believe that slavery is over when I see our life.
            Once the work finishes it is time to go and eat. I'm starving, I didn’t have breakfast this morning. While I'm heading to the big room where we're we supposed to go, I bum into Nora again. She seems exhausted from her day and... she’s limping. I look at her with a questioning glance and ask her :
“What happened to you?”
“Oh, nothing, don't worry...”
            She gives me that little smile that is meant to to be reassuring but I know better.
“Tell me”
            She looks down and starts explaining. I don’t say a word, but I’m sure the police are behind it.
“I fell asleep and was caught so I was hit on the legs.”
“What a bunch of...”
“Hush !”
“I know, but I can't stand it !”
“But you have to, Alessandro, really !”
“I know, but they haven't got the right to treat us like that”
            She stops me before I go any further and glances at the guards at the entrance of the dining room. I understand where she's coming from and stop talking. We then enter the small room where we cram together as usual and I  go to my usual place. We have to get in alphabetical order and by chance I'm next to Nora. This is where we met and we’ve been friends ever since. She's my only friend. During the meal we do not talk much because the noise disturbs the police which call us to order every two seconds. There is even a Russian who was whipped in front of everyone but nobody did anything because otherwise we would have been given the whip too. My neighbour on the left is really starting to annoy me seriously from telling me how smart he is. It makes Nora laugh, but not me. Every night he lectures me just to belittle me because this Sir is French. I never really understood why but some nationalities are worth more than others. He bugs me so much that I end up giving him a punch. My friend shrieks with surprise and terror and I realize what I’ve just done when the guards come to me hurriedly and catch me by the collar. I don't make a move or say anything because I know it will get worse if I do. These two idiots ask me to put myself in the middle of the big room and I already know what awaits me even before one of the two nags starts to hit me.
 
Chapter 2
 
On the next day, it felt as if every single muscle in my body was made of cotton. Even opening my eyes to get out of bed seemed like one of the most difficult things to do in the world. I don’t even know how I managed to get up before the clock finished its countdown. The TV starts reciting one more documentary about the “Big War” and  the “Great President”. I don’t have any mirror in my room, but I can see my reflection in the Tv’s screen. I’m a little funny to see, with my black eye and my scar… I sigh as I recall the events from the day before.
After getting beaten up, I spent the day withdrawn in silence. I was so angry that I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I couldn’t anyway. All I could do was to glance with a dark gaze at the guards. But I’m sure a few of them just laughed at me. Of course, I should have expected that. Punching this French idiot in the canteen was one of the dumbest things I could do. But sometimes… I don’t know. I get just so angry at the way our society works that I can’t control myself and end up messing everything. 
Anyway, I now must get out of my room. It’s 4 AM in the morning. I won’t be working in the same place as always today. As if getting beaten up wasn’t enough of a punishment, my clock informed me yesterday evening that I had to do a “repentance day”. That means getting up earlier and working alone all day, while being forced to listen continuously to a device reciting the rules the colored had to follow in order to be a “good citizen”. My day hadn’t started yet, but I am already tired of it. I only have the time to take a look at my mother’s box before going out. I feel my heart skipping a beat as I read the two numbers displayed on one of the sides: 24. I was right, it really was a countdown… But what would happen when 0 would come up? 
I have to hurry up walking to my workplace of the day. It is a disaffected building, located in an abandoned area in the center of the city. Signs reading “Danger, please don’t enter disused buildings” are warning people in front of the entrance. Well, apparently the government doesn’t seem to care a lot about my safety. But that isn’t really a scoop. What I don’t understand is why I must clean an abandoned place, but it seems like it is something common for the government to punish people by making them do some work without any point. Maybe it is so we don’t have this feeling of accomplishment… Anyway, my watch starts to ring to prevent me from being late, and I have to start my work. As my watch measures my activity through the day, I have to clean and can’t just sit and do nothing.
“Remember to always make place for the “Real English” when you’re near them, stop talking and moving in order to not bother th-“. The automatic and soft voice is suddenly cut off, and I am projected at least 3 meters away from the place I stood on a second before. I land roughly on the grey floor and don’t move for a few seconds, waiting for something to happen, someone to come… I try to think of what happened. What was this mess? An explosion? There is a lot of noises outside. I carefully get back on my feet and try to go to a window nearly to get a glimpse of the situation. But before I could get to it, I hear footsteps and silently hide in the shadow, between shelves full of files’ boxes. One woman and one man are hurrying in and shutting the door behind them. The woman in her 30s has a mixed skin and is supporting the man. He doesn’t look older than 20 years old and seems very pale. They both has masks on, so I can’t really see their face. They start speaking in very low voices while trying to catch their breath.
“Do you think they are after us? They won’t find us, right?”, asks the guy.
“I saw them go after the first group. We’re safe… For now, at least. Let’s take care of your arm first, I don’t want to have an unconscious man on my arms. We already lost David… And all of this for nothing! They got to destroy the files before we could get our hands on them… At least we now know that they are really hiding something from us.”
“I don’t think I really want to know for today… My parents will ask so many questions about my arm. I’m screwed.”
“We warned you about what could happen if you joined us. This is not a game, and a lot of people won’t make out of it alive today. Stop whining and lend me your arm.”, says the girl with an impassive voice, which makes the youngest look ashamed.
She makes a bandage on her partner’s arm and then takes out clothes from her backpack. They change their black clothes against a colored uniform for the girl and “Real English” clothes from the boy, and then come out first of the building as if nothing had happened. The woman stands still for 1 minute listening to the sounds from the outside and then gets out too. Motionless, I suddenly starts to wonder if I should or not follow them.

...

Voici une nouvelle dystopique écrite par les 1ères L2 dans le cadre de l'enseignement de littérature anglaise. Cette nouvelle a été choisie par l'ensemble de la classe parmi celles proposées, et chaque mois, deux nouvelles élèves la continuent pour en faire une aventure à l'image d'un feuilleton.

The black sentry's dance

Voici une nouvelle dystopique écrite par les 1ères L2 dans le cadre de l'enseignement de littérature anglaise. Cette nouvelle a été choisie par l'ensemble de la classe parmi celles proposées, et chaque mois, deux nouvelles élèves la continuent pour en faire une aventure à l'image d'un feuilleton.

 

Babies Cry

Imagine a world in which all the diseases, wars, famine, and death from aging have been eradicated.
Paradise?