They caught us. They finally caught us. The telescreen, hidden behind the picture frome, spoke to us. And Mr. Charrington, oh our dear Mr. Charrington who sold me the diary, rented us the room, and told me rhymes of the past, is not ours. He is a member of the thought police. When the voice sounded from the telescreen, Julia and I jumped apart, startled. We can no longer be together, our fates are sealed.
We are the dead.
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