It's the year 2038 and a deadly virus has consumed the world for more than 14 years.
In Denmark, an unknown politician took it upon himself to create a safe space from the infected. As long as you abide by the 8 Obligations, you are allowed to live...
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#triggerwarning
With one hand placed solid on the backwall in the shower and a bowed head, I let the water run down my back, trinkle over my old scars down to my ass where it drips off and lands with a splash in the bottom of the shower. Its only when the water runs over my latest mark on my shoulder, that my body shivers. The skin still fells wrong there, although it isn't sore anymore. And hasn't been in years. Its most likely the memory of how I got it, that makes it feel like my skin is more tender there. My body shivers as I think back to my time in another household, where I was too young to understand the seriousness and consequences of my actions in what was a fairly knew society back then.
Is this really it? Was I forced through a year of so-called training, just to be send out to service rich idiots who are too lazy to do anything themselves? I curs mentally while I clear the plates and utensils of the table. I keep my snarky remarks to myself, because that's what I've been trained to, but that won't hold me back from scowling at the privileged pricks. At least my educators aren't here to smack me in the back of my head when I don't keep my gaze low enough. I can tell that my obvious defiant scowling is inciting the man of the house, while the woman almost seems pleased by my noticeable desire to provoke and bend the rules. I wink at her with a cocky smile on my face on the way to the kitchen. The female houseservant, who is older than me, looks at me and shakes her head slightly. Barely noticeably. But I don't care if I'm offending people or breaking their rules. If 'im going to be forced to do this goddamn job, then I'll sure as hell break every rule I can.
When the door has closed behind us in the kitchen, she comes up to me.
"What the hell are you doing?" She whispers agitated. "you're playing with fire, you idiot!"
Completely baffled, I look at her. What is it exactly that she thinks is going to happen? The woman sighs and pulls me further away from the door. She glances back at the dining room a couple of times as if she is making sure the door isn't opening before she speaks again.
"I don't think you get the seriousness in this."
"What's there to get?" I yank my arm out of her grip and scowl at her with a wrath I can't control. I'm furious. Not just because of her telling me what to do, but because of everything that has happened these last few years. "They are nothing but a bunch of rich privileged assholes that uses a life-threatening pandemic as an excuse to get what they want. They can try breaking me like some wild animal, but it's not going to happen!"
"yes, it is..." she sounds more defeated then angry now. Maybe even scared. "I get that you feel angry and unfairly treated, and you might even be right, but this is our world now if we want to live in safety from the disease." She gestures towards the door and continues, "These people are those who are in charge of how the society is right now and trust me, they won't even blink twice before throwing you out on your ass. And if you aren't in a family, you won't get food, so the only way you can survive is to obey." She stares at me with a fire in her eyes and just as I'm about to give a snarky remark she spits out some last words. "And do it without pissing them off!" Then she turns on her heel and returns to doing the dishes while I stand there, perplexed.
