Prisoner

This letter arrived today and suddenly everything has started to make sense. We are not living in lockdown - that is just false information designed to keep us compliant. Instead, it seems my decision to retire last year has not gone down well in the corridors of power, and I have been abducted and taken to a remote northern town from which escape is impossible.
The people we encounter on our daily walk are there to keep an eye on us. They engage us in conversation solely to ensure we suspect nothing. And my ankle is not damaged - something has been implanted which triggers if I look like I’m running too far.
But it was inevitable that I would start to suspect eventually. So the letter is sent to remind me of where I stand. I am only addressed as a number. I am asked to think about who is really in control. And - most sinister of all - the writer “hopes I am well”. The implication being that I could soon become “unwell” if I step out of line.
I’m told I will receive an injection soon that will solve everything. Will it? Or will my memory just be erased to enable my reintegration into society.
I AM NOT A NUMBER - I AM A FREE MAN

(If you are totally confused by the above, Google “Patrick McGoohan Number Six”. All will become clear)