Replica

Mark sat in the cold blinding light of a light bulb turned on by a man who's face was covered with the dark that surrounded them.

"We have proof of your association with terrorists, Mr. Baxton." said the deep voice, resonating from the face hiding in the darkness.

"But, I'm completely innocent!" shouted out Mark, attempting to plea with the interrogator.

"You appear to desire information that terrorists use in propaganda. Forbidden search terms. Therefore you are a terrorist." said the voice, insisting upon this fact.

"No, no! I'm not a-" said Mark, before he was rudely interrupted by the injection of a sedative into his body, and his eventual slumber.
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Mark later awoke inside a cold, cramped cell with a giant metal door in front of him. To the right of the prison cell lay a rusty table, with a dirty sink that had clearly been neglected. On the left lied a large bed-shaped metal object, with a dirty cumstained mattress placed in it, a dirty blanket on it, and a feather pillow with a giant hole and half of the feathers missing. Behind Mark, opposite from the metal door lied a hole in which sunlight came in from, though he couldn't see outside.

As Mark examined the room, trying to find anything that might help him escape, he suddenly heard a loud buzzer from outside the door, which almost made him fall over. Suddenly, the door moved forward, and slid to the left, letting light pour in which nearly blinded Mark. Outside lied a cell block with giant metal bars sealed shut, though one of them was open and through it lied a locker room where inmates grabbed their stuff.

The next room was a cafeteria, where numerous inmates sat, eating their breakfast meals being served from a chute in the hall, which had a long line in front of it. Mark got into line, not knowing what to do, as more and more people got their meals. When Mark made it to the front, he was faced with a speaker and the chute, though covered in a metal plate blocking anything from going in or out. A loud voice shouted through, saying "KNOCK.", which lead Mark to knock on the metal plate, which suddenly opened, and a meal came through. Mark sat to ate it, but quickly realized how cold it was and how stale it was.

"Piece of shit meal," Mark muttered to himself before being shoved back by a group of prison guards.

"And who are you to criticize our glorious state, terrorist?" one of them said to Mark, with "terrorist" being greatly exaggerated in length. Mark attempted to get up, but was suddenly hit in the chest by the back of a baton, causing him to fall over once more.

"What's wrong, terrorist? Want to go home and see Mommy?", taunted another one of the guards, who could have been no less older than 17.

"What the fuck are you-OOF!". At this moment, a baton hit Mark's chest once more, before the same guard that had taunted him previously grabbed him by the hair, lifting his chin to stare into his eyes.

"From now on, you're a toy. Our toy. Our own little pawn in this game of charades. You're ours, and God hep you if you forget that." came out from the guard, shortly before hitting him in the face, immediately followed by the other guards hitting him and beating down on him with their own batons.

"What's wrong? Crying? I'll take care of that!" said one of the guards as he hit Mark in one of the eyes.
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It had been days of this treatment that made Mark get used to it. Sometimes he would be taken and beaten by the same group of guards, sometimes beaten by inmates or different guards, forced to do preposterous orders. It would stay the same, or so he thought.

Mark awoke to the sound of banging on the door, and as he got up he didn't see any sunlight emerging through the hole in the wall, so he knew it was night. But in the dark, as he cleared his eyes, he noticed something on the rusty table. Something that he had not placed, and something that shouldn't be there. He discovered it was a phone. He turned it on, noting the PIN code, something his phone had, and entered the PIN he owned.

The phone vibrated and did not react, instead showing that he had made a mistake in guessing the correct code and that he was locked out of this phone. He began searching for clues, but suddenly noticed a huge amount of notifications.

"Eren, it's after six. Please come home."

"Eren, where are you at right now? Why aren't you home yet?"

"I'm getting worried Eren. If you don't respond I'm going to panic."

"Eren, where are you?"

"EREN!"

"Please pick up Eren, we miss you!"

"Your father thinks you were killed by terrorists. Please let that not be true, Eren, please pick up!"

Mark realized this phone wasn't his, and that it belonged to a person named "Eren", who he didn't know anything about. H began trying random amounts of numbers, each ending with the phone showing it's lack of validity. Somehow, trying with the code 1105, the phone suddenly opened up, showing Mark that he had somehow guessed this kid's password. Mark didn't know what to do at this point, but suddenly received a call. The number read "5331".

"Hello, there. We assume you cracked the password to this phone since you were able to answer this call."

"Now, I need you to follow my precise instructions, and do exactly as I say."

"Wh..Who is this?" Mark was able to say.

"We are Homeland Security, and we need your help in this case. The boy who owns this phone, Eren, is a terrorist. However, in order to warrant his arrest without gaining the attention of the public eye in spots we wish remain uncovered, we need you to obtain proof that this kid is a terrorist who must be prosecuted."

"B-but, why? What has he done?" Mark said.

"Do you not know the definition of the word 'terrorist', or are you just really stupid? This is a matter of national security. If you fail, who knows what will happen next? Another bombing?"

"A-alright. Wh-what do you want me t-to do?" Mark replied, obviously uneasy.

"Text us our required objectives via text message. This should be the only recorded call on this phone. Do not attempt to call or text anyone else, on penalty of death sentence instead of life sentence."

"O-okay..." Mark said, obviously unsure but indeed interested in getting his freedom back.

"Hang up, and send a text message saying 'I understand' so that we may begin this important operation. Your nation thanks you for your-"

Mark immediately hung up and went to SMS, sending "5331" a text message saying "I understand."

"You didn't need to hang up on us."

After that message was sent, Mark began receiving and following a series of instructions that seemed tedious but somehow important to National Security. Obtain personal information, search browser history and reply with specific terms searched. Mark was obviously uneasy and didn't like tapping into someone's personal information at all.

It was only when Mark saw a family picture of "Eren" showing close affection towards his family that Mark completely lost it. Mark went to the Contacts app, searched for Eren's mother and then pressed the phone button to call.

Rring, rring!

"Oh my god, Eren! You're okay! Let me-"

"This is not Eren," Mark replied with obvious fear, yet empathy.

"Who the HELL are you and what have you done with my son?" the woman shouted.

"I am not responsible for your son's abduction, but I know full well what happened and why." Mark said.

"W-what is it, t-then?"

"Your son's tendencies to support communism and disrespect the traditional ideology of the government's political practice referred to as neo-fascism have resulted in his arrest by Homeland Security." Mark explained.

"O-oh my God. Wh-what should I-?" Eren's mother said before being cut off.

"Tell someone. Get the word out. Please, they treat us like animals here. They beat us senseless and feed us terrible meals. The human rights violations here are intense."

"O-oh God, E-Eren!" Eren's mother shouted.

"God knows what they treat him like, but you need to tell everyone. Tell everyone. Don't let this go unspoken."

"O-okay..I-I.."

"They won't hurt you, understood? If you tell the public, they will have no one to turn to for mercy. There might even be a second uprising, if only-"

"O-oh God...Okay." Eren's mother was unnerved, but perfectly understood what was being said.

"I need to go, perhaps they might-" Mark was interrupted by something.

The call forcibly hung up on Mark, and suddenly he received another call from "5331", once more. Mark tried to hang up, but the call appeared yet again, and again, and again...until Mark finally picked it up.

"We told you not to talk to anyone BUT us. And what's the first thing you do? You obviously-"

"He is NOT a terrorist. He's just a typical high school student!" shouted Mark.

"Searching up banned words, sympathizing with communist ideals, going to terrorist meetings! Tell me that is not the behavior of a terrorist in the making!"

Mark had nothing to say. He wanted to say something, to desperately try to defend himself, but all that came out of his mouth was pure silence.

"An escort team is arriving to take you to an execution area just outside of Los Angeles. Do not attempt to flee."

The caller hung up, leaving Mark in silence, with absolutely nothing to say for himself as the cold metal door opened and Mark was yanked out of the cell.
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END