1984

           GivemeachanceandI’lltellyoueverywordofit. HE’Stheonethat’sagainsttheParty,notme.’ Theguardssteppedforward.Theman’svoicerosetoashriek. ‘Youdidn’thearhim!’herepeated. ‘Somethingwentwrongwiththetelescreen. HE’Stheoneyouwant. Takehim,notme!’ 

           Thetwosturdyguardshadstoopedtotakehimbythearms. Butjustatthismomentheflunghimselfacrossthefloorofthecellandgrabbedoneoftheironlegsthatsupportedthebench. Hehadsetupawordlesshowling,likeananimal. Theguardstookholdofhimtowrenchhimloose,butheclungonwithastonishingstrength. Forperhapstwentysecondstheywerehaulingathim. Theprisonerssatquiet,theirhandscrossedontheirknees,lookingstraightinfrontofthem. Thehowlingstopped;themanhadnobreathleftforanythingexcepthangingon. Thentherewasadifferentkindofcry. Akickfromaguard’sboothadbrokenthefingersofoneofhishands. Theydraggedhimtohisfeet. 

           ‘Room101,’saidtheofficer. 

           Themanwasledout,walkingunsteadily,withheadsunken,nursinghiscrushedhand,allthefighthadgoneoutofhim. 

           Alongtimepassed. Ifithadbeenmidnightwhentheskull-facedmanwastakenaway,itwasmorning:ifmorning,itwasafternoon. Winstonwasalone,andhadbeenaloneforhours. Thepainofsittingonthenarrowbenchwassuchthatoftenhegotupandwalkedabout,unreprovedbythetelescreen. Thepieceofbreadstilllaywherethechinlessmanhaddroppedit. Atthebeginningitneededahardeffortnottolookatit,butpresentlyhungergavewaytothirst. Hismouthwasstickyandevil-tasting. Thehummingsoundandtheunvaryingwhitelightinducedasortoffaintness,anemptyfeelinginsidehishead.