June 7th, 3050
My birthday is today. It is hard to believe that I was born a mere 19 years ago. I am almost done with my college classes, soon I can remove this stupid chip in my head. My glasses are getting too small for me but I am not quite sure where I am going to acquire another pair, seeing as they don’t really make these spectacles anymore. I don’t want corrective surgery though, I don’t want to be so cliche. The parents next door have been sobbing all day. I have a hunch it is because they found out about their baby. It’s a girl and she has the prettiest hazel eyes already. Her hair is dark, but I’m sure it will lighten in the next few months. I feel bad for them although not entirely sorry. I won’t be visiting them for a while.
A cat showed up at my door the other day. I am thinking that it was abandoned by somebody a few streets over, seeing as the entire street has evacuated. Empty houses are all I see when I walk down that way. The richies have hunkered down and taken up shelter in their bunkers and safe-houses. I can only take care of this new cat and hope that things get better.
The water was foul today. I think the workers down at the plant are losing hope. Yesterday the first few babies born mutated committed suicide.They were about 25. It’s clinical depression, chemical interactions in the brain are skewed. Scientists everywhere flipped out and went crazy over the twist. It was also released that the percentage of plagued infants has risen to fifty-three percent. The spreading of the illness is starting to scare even the sanest of people. I only hope my sanity isn’t compromised.
YOU ARE READING
End of Year
Ciencia Ficción"I think the world is gone. I can't tell through my tears though. I can only hear myself sobbing and whispering and shouting "'She's dead. She's dead. She's dead.'" And I think in this moment my heart is gone, too. I want to kill myself just to see...
