Racing Saturn

Prologue

She had known her date her whole life, people will tell you if you really wanted to know. I never did. Usually that morning you'll get the best meal you've ever had, since everyone used to live in poverty, some of the older people here joke that their dying for these meals. I don't find it funny, but if that's how they deal with it, who am I to argue? When they went to take her her meal, she was just gone, vanishes into thin air, everyone was so confused, the government watched you for days when you were nearing your due date and somehow she slipped through their fingers, she was the first one to ever do it. Her name was Annabel something or other. 80 years later she showed back up at the gates of the city, 100 years old and tells them that she's finally ready to die. She was my inspiration. I found her in some record book in the library, she had every reason to live, she was pregnant and a husband who loved her, but what really caught my eye was that the coroner said she had had more children while she was away. That means that outside these walls somewhere there are more people. That means that her children are still out there, probably with children of their own now, living long lives and watching their children live before they die. I feel selfish wanting more time than I am given and I know that this system was set up for the best. No one lives in poverty or wants for anything here, yet still I can't help but wonder what it would be like to not always having to be racing the invisible clock. To not know how much time you had left with your loved ones. To not have to be sickeningly sweet to every person who had a very near due date. They used to have a myth about someone named Father Time, or Chronus, or Saturn. Sometimes I wonder if he did exist and if he would miss being in control, if he did exist would he be okay with this sort of organized murder. This is my life. These are our rules and we follow them. That's just how it goes. No arguments, no pain or murder, at least not illegally. An organized system of people trying to race Father Time