The City was a rather bland place. Buildings were uniform grey stumps, with tiny spider-like windows. There were no cars or public transport. It was believed that the use of such things wasted far too much power. Electricity was always cut off at 11pm sharp, not to return until 6:30 the next morning.

It was a dreary existence. You worked. You went home. Home was a grey box, just as dull as the rest of the city. Alcohol was forbidden, music was forbidden. Large gatherings were forbidden and social events were strictly family. I had always felt trapped by the list of regulations. They clung to my every movement, to my inner thoughts. I’ve had their watchful gazes bore into me for as long as I can remember.

Right now in this moment, I did not care. Perched atop this building, I watched as the City cut the power from its people, shrouding them in darkness. I could smell the tinge of smoke in the air as fires were lit to keep the icy chill at bay. Clouds smouldered in the distance, preparing their onslaught for the residents of the Forbidden City. My breath mingled with the smoke.

I glared at the distant flickering of lights. The Government sector was considered too important for the power to be cut. The tantalising lights glowed like fireflies dancing in the night sky. The Government district stood out from the rest, with its lavish architecture and clean streets, as if it was king, and the districts surrounding it were its peasant slaves.

A gentle breeze brushed past my face, teasing me with its freedom. I wished that I could prance on the carefree wind. I crouched on the roof, yearning to see the outside world. The ugly grey walls that enveloped the city were dimly lit. It served as a reminder of our imprisonment.

Was there really such things as oceans? Or monstrous mountains that speared the sky? Trapped within the City, life was nearly unbearable. The City had been built a little over four hundred years ago. No one had seen beyond the walls since then. There was never a clear reason given for why the remainder of humanity decided to cower behind the wall.

When I read some outlawed books, I remember the author was criticising the human race. Something about global warming and destruction of the environment. When the polluted earth had given up, ecosystems failed, one after the other. It was a mass extinction.

Now the Government claimed that there was nothing but wasteland, that the earth was a husk, barely capable of supporting life. But the disasters had ended hundreds of years ago, and I was sure that there was life somewhere beyond the grey desolate walls.

A low whistle pierced the air. I reluctantly vacated my rooftop, sprinting across and leaping on to the next. It was pitch black. I saw nothing and felt gravity clawing at my feet with each jump. Years of stalking the skyline had taught me not to fear falling to the icy pavement below. As one would know words on a page, I knew each ledge, dip and tile of these roofs. It was second nature.

Now, I ran. The wind pushed me forward, lifting me from roof to roof. My heart thumped, its wild rhythm sent my blood pulsing. The wall loomed closer, a prison guard to its inmates. Still, I ran.

I heard the faint breath of my companions, following me. Soon the thundering sound of feet echoed in the night. We continued to rush forward.

A klaxon wailing pierced the air. The Government refused to let us go, for we were its slaves. Not anymore. Surging on, like a tidal wave, we collided into the wall. Hammers and hands, swords and souls. A thousand voices hollered and roared. The Forbidden City had come alive. United for the first time, we felt the flare of hope burn brighter than any flame.

It was not long until the dreaded Keepers came to drag us back to obedience, to mould us into mindlessness. They stopped at the sight. Hundreds, maybe thousands of poor people flinging all their strength at the concrete. More floods of people came forward. The mass of bodies grew. Outnumbered, the Keepers watched on, redundant. They were helpless to stop the wild, thundering crowd.

With the force of a determined city behind us , the wall cracked. It was the barest of cracks, a little over a centimetre long. That’s all it took. The crack grew, millimetre by millimetre. Our spirits rose, our hearts lifted. The rhythm turned to a raging torrent.

As the first colours of dawn painted the sky, the wall was riddled with cracks. A tiny pebble broke away, tumbling down to our feet. A second followed. Then the third. Speechless, we stared dumbstruck.

The wall fractured apart, a fierce gust of wind kicked up into our faces. It had a sweet scent. Flowers? I peered through the opening. My senses were assaulted with colour, smell and most importantly, freedom. I ignored the bruises that littered my body and my exhaustion was wiped away instantly.

I stepped through the crack and was shocked to see another battered face gazing back at me. My eyes widened, my heart stopped. There were people out here?