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Journal entry #150

Reed "the red fox" Rogers.

Micro Rights

I didn't believe that the notion of "Micro Rights" was anything that could ever be taken seriously when I was younger. Where I grew up, we were pests, vermin, pets, toys, food-- anything derogatory. I learned not to trust many, particularly not the normals. All of them had it out for us-- at least that's what I would've told you back then. I was one of the lucky few to have a cloaker, so I did live some semblance of normalcy... at least to the extent that no one knew they could just as easily snatch me up and keep me while suffering no consequences. When I was in highschool, I vividly remember some of my friends talking about capturing us; techniques for building traps, bait, or even more violent methods. It was a normal part of my life to laugh about my own peril. Why would I be friends with those types of people? Because they were the people I'd grown up with. They were people I laughed with, cried with, supported, played video games with, watched movies with... they were good people except that they -liked- abusing micros like me. The only barrier between me and one of the fates they loved describing was my cloaker-- a device that allowed me to blend in. I was one of them as far as they were concerned.

I was closest friends with Lan, a squirrel who had a micro or two of his own. I'd met them-- they were... well-behaved is how I'd put it. Lan told me once about how he trained us. How he broke us to do as he asked without hesitation. The dissonance between the Lan I knew as my friend and the squirrel who looked down on his two pets as so far below him that they were things to be 'broken' sometimes left me listless and afraid for my own safety. What would happen if Lan ever found out? If I couldn't trust him then who could I trust? Why did I play with fire the way I did? I thought I might just be stupid.

I remained friends with him, though. My parents encouraged me to go to college so I could get a degree and find a job. If everything went well, I'd simply be another face in the crowd making middle-class wage and coasting by. It was a good plan, but as with all plans made by a micro, it didn't go the way I wanted.

My junior year of college was the same year I'd receive a collar around my neck that I still wear to this day. A collar that symbolized my lesser status and left me naked and defenseless. A collar that left me contemplating killing myself at times. I'd been fighting depression ever since they'd announced on the television that we would be forced to register. Registration, as they called it, was the government's way of trying to figure out how many of us were hiding. Our cloakers were registered to us and a collar latched to our necks to mark us as micros.

The night I found out that I would be exposed was the night I figured my life was over. Everything I'd kept a secret, everything I'd fought to hide from those around me would be forced out into the spotlight. Lan, who I'd been rooming with in college, would find out and he'd lose all respect for me. Hell, I even thought he might just snatch me up then and there. I'd be 'broken' like his other pets or... maybe he would be so disgusted with me that he'd just crush me outright. I wasn't certain, but I was sure that it wouldn't be good for me.

At times, I thought about death. Not just because of Lan, though. In all honesty, I didn't know where my life was headed. If I stayed, Lan might try something. If I left, my parents and I would be on the run or be forced to try one of the shelters. I just knew that we'd end up somewhere horrible and wondered why it was even worth trying. I remember hating myself at my darkest moments, wondering why I had to be born this way. Why I couldn't just be normal.

I didn't exit my room the next day, or the day after and hardly over the entire week. I called my parents nearly every evening and it got to the point where they told me they'd come and pick me up. We'd register together and figure out where to go from there. In other words, we'd be running. Lan had been worried about me since all I really left the room to do was eat and after that I'd lock myself in again. When he realized I was packing my bags back up to go home, he accosted me.

"What's got you so messed up, Reed?" he asked, settled on my bed. I remember looking at his face and feeling the tears well up again. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to cry out to him about what I was afraid of. I might not see him again after tomorrow, after all. I might leave and never come back.

He was my friend, though. He deserved to know, I thought to myself. He'd understand! Except he wouldn't-- if that makes any sense. Every time I felt like I'd convinced myself that he would be okay about it, I remembered what he'd done to the others. I remembered high school and every time we'd both laughed at how 'dumb' those little micros are.

"N-nothing," I said, lowering my ears. His arm wrapped around me and he held me against his side. I felt him squeeze gently, and for a moment I let myself be comforted.

"Something," he replied. "Be honest-- you really just sick?"

I hesitated. A lot was going through my head at the time-- part of me wanted to say, part of me wanted to lie, part of me wanted to run...

"No," I said gently.

He rubbed against my side with a paw. "Then what?" he asked. "You can tell me, dude. Something happen?"

I could tell him; those were his words. I shifted my gaze to look into the squirrel's eyes for a moment. He seemed genuinely worried, but I was quick to remind myself that it's just because he didn't know the truth. I looked down again and leaned in against him a bit more firmly.

"Reed... come on. In a sec I'm gonna call student health services because you're kinda scaring me at this point. What's going on?" he asked again. "If you don't tell me I really can't do nothing about what's botherin' ya."

For whatever reason I started to believe him again. He was my friend-- he wouldn't betray me. Not even for something like this. I loosened his grip and stood up to put some distance between us... as a safety precaution. I'd tell him and if he reacted badly, I'd run. It seemed like a good enough idea at the time but, understand, I was going a little crazy or that's what it felt like. He watched me walk towards the door with the most confused look on his face. I almost laughed. Almost.

"I'll tell you," I said after getting in position, standing there as tall as I could. "Well, you know... the registration thing they announced? Uhm," I stopped for a moment, eyes scanning his face for any clues that he understood what I was getting at. "I'm uh... I have to go. I have to be registered," I said finally. I kept my gaze on him and, admittedly, I was ready to leave. I don't know what I expected him to do, but I didn't expect anything good.

"You're a..."

"Micro," I spoke. "I-I'm a micro, Lan. I didn't tell you because..." I bit my lip. Tears began to well up and I desperately wanted him to tell me it'd be alright. "Because I know how much... you hate us! A-and I really like you as a friend but I just don't... I don't know what to think or feel when you talk about us the way you do! It's crazy, though! Because I laugh at it! I laugh with you and I laughed with Tim and Alex and Burtrum and all the other guys even though... even though..." I began trembling. What was I doing? My eyes searched his face again. I could tell he didn't know how to react and it made me mad and scared and sad... he -had- to accept this. Why wouldn't he? We're friends, right?

"L-look, even... even if you don't like me anymore just... just let me go, okay?" I began to say which is when he finally started to react.

"Reed," he said with a chuckle, which caught me off-guard. He stood up and I nearly tripped over myself trying to back away.

"Reed," he said again. "Calm down." He stopped moving, watching me stare up at him like some feral animal-- or at least that's how I figure I looked. "You're fine, alright? Don't worry about it. I'm not gonna do nothin' to you, dude." He sighed a little and rubbed over his head. "Now it all makes sense, though-- why you'd be so fucked up the last few days."

I held my position for a while, staring at him. I remember being confused but cautiously optimistic at that point. "You're not..."

"Mad? No. It's... kinda weird, I'll admit it. I kinda wanna ask you why you never said nothing before but I guess I get it. I probably wouldn't've either."

"You... you like catching us, though. Y-you even have pets that're micros. H-how can you be okay with me but..."

"What-- you prefer I throw you in a cage like them?" he asked with a little smirk.

"No!" I shout.

"Didn't think so. Anyway, like I was saying, you're my friend. I couldn't just do that to you and feel okay with myself. Probably kinda weird to hear considering what you know about me but... I dunno, I guess you'll just have to believe me. I'm not out t'get ya." He walked over and despite my instinct telling me to keep my distance, I held my position and let his hand rub over my head gently. Never once did he try to find my cloaker. "Sorry I put you through this, man. I didn't know. I'm still kinda tryin' to digest it buuut... you don't have to worry. Doesn't matter what I think about the rest-- I wouldn't hurt ya."

It wasn't fair that I just happened to be a special case to him, but I was more than willing to take it at the time. I remained friends with Lan despite everything, and over the years I helped convince him to curb some of his hobbies. We lost some friends along the way but to his credit he always took my side. He stopped trapping and started acclimating his former pets to being independant again. We still helped take care of them, of course, since they couldn't just be released and forced to live on their own but I bet it was a damn sight better than how they'd been treated before. We graduated together, he started a family and I started an organization that fights for equality.

The best thing? He and his wife fight with me-- and that's why I now believe in fighting for Micro Rights. I believe in it because bonds like friendship can and have transcended things like size. It doesn't matter if you're a few inches, or fully seven feet tall. If Lan could change for the better, then I believe anyone can and that's my biggest goal with this new undertaking. I'll encourage others to do the same and hopefully within the next decade we'll see a turn in attitude. No one will have to go through what I and so many others did. A micro will be seen for what they are-- same thing as everyone else.