NBC wants to take you deeper into the mythology of Revolution.
As part of this they are posting a collection of letters, journal entries, postcards and more on their site.
Aaron’s Journal Entry
The Woman I Thought I Knew
The Blackout changed people. That much is obvious, just look around – the incidence of bandit mobs and mass cannibalism has to have ticked up at least, I don’t know, infinity percent. Even I’ve changed. And I don’t just mean that I’m older and grumpier, although that’s damn sure the case. There are things I’ve done that made me sick, like leaving Priscilla. But I’ve also done things I’d have never thought I was capable of, like fighting my way across the continent to get Danny back.
People have changed, and I have to believe that the Rachel I’m walking next to has changed from the person I knew at the cul-de-sac. Set aside for a second the miracle I saw her perform, healing her broken leg with nothing more than a hacked-together computer and a capsule she got from God-knows-where. The Rachel I thought I knew… she never would have left a sick kid to die. To her, family was everything. People were everything. So what happened to that Rachel, the one that took me in when I was at my lowest point? I thought the reason we were marching across this barren dustbowl was to make the world better – to help people, not leave them to rot. I never thought I’d have to say this, but I want to be on the side that fights for good. If this really is a suicide mission, like Rachel keeps on insisting it is, I’m gonna need my suicide to count for something. Because Rachel flat-out told me she’s doing this for revenge, and – I loved Danny like he was my own son. I really did. And if Monroe was in front of me right now, I’d gladly be the one holding the knife that slit his throat. But Rachel’s talking about thousands of people dying, maybe millions more, and I can’t be a part of that. And part of me hates her for asking me to. The same part that wants to grab her by the shoulders and scream at her, ask her where the hell the Rachel I used to know went. But I know I wouldn’t like the answer.
And about that miracle… could Rachel have done that at any point? She says it doesn’t work on everything, and I believe her. I mean, she never would have let Danny die if the capsule could have saved him. But mending flesh and bone – that’s huge. How many other injuries could she have healed back at the Rebel camp? Why didn’t she tell us? When you find out someone’s got secrets that big, it makes you wonder – what else isn’t she telling us? Was it the Blackout that changed Rachel? Was it the years she spent with Monroe? Or was she this broken from the start?
Every day out here it gets colder, it gets harder to find food, harder to find shelter. People in the Plains Nation are clinging to life, but a different kind of life than we had in the Monroe Republic. It’s less about living and more about surviving. But still, that kid that Rachel left to fate… he looked just like the kids I grew up with. He could have been my friend. He could have been me. And we’re walking away from him, leaving him to die – horribly.
Every step we take gets us one step closer to The Tower. I only wish I knew who I was walking next to.