feotakahari

You can’t let me go. There’s too much of a risk I’ll tell someone what I’ve learned. But that’s not true. I’ll never speak a word of it to anyone.

There’s nothing I could do to meaningfully undermine you. You rule this world and everyone in it. Anyone I told anything would be killed or imprisoned. Any plot to escape your control would be snuffed out before it started. All I can do is live according to the terms you set.

From your point of view, that’s the only way things can be. There’s too much danger in someone letting out the truth, and anything that keeps it hidden is justified. That’s why you don’t have to feel bad about the things you’ve done. You live in a guilt-proof bubble, and it’s almost impenetrable.

But suppose I have the option to tell your secrets, and I choose not to do so. Then maybe I’m not the only one who wouldn’t have talked. Maybe you didn’t need to do all this in the first place. Maybe, just maybe, you did something wrong.

Let me go, and I’ll hurt you in the only way I can, by doing exactly what you want me to do. If you don’t trust fear or reason to keep me silent, then trust in the power of spite.