Freedom. I didn't know I had so much until it is completely gone. You see, a lot of people take things for granted. No matter how much a human being has, they still have this hunger; a hunger to crave more. I was definitely one of them. Life has never been so suffocating until a few months ago. The ability to talk, see, hear, eat, touch, feel, breathe, go places is disastrous. I feel like a puppet; being controlled everyday and unable to do the things that I want like taking a walk at a certain time.
"We cannot live like this," Ethel whispered into my ear one day. "We have to fight for what's right." Ethel is one of the only people whom I trust. I met her when things started changing. Our friendship is rare or rather I would say, unique. It felt as if fate had been on my side. Many people started developing trust issues because we're all fighting to survive. Trust issues, lies, back stabbing, betrayal, and even savagery had taken place. Soon, everyone's going to be each others' adversary.
I can see Ethel as some sort of a savior. She has words of wisdom and is quite rebellious. Occasionally I would have to remind her to stop saying things that shouldn't be said or do things that shouldn't be done. If we can all come together as a union and fight one day, even if it means death, I would die happily.
"What are you doing?" Ethel scowls at me. "Quit daydreaming and finish picking these flowers!" I went back to reality and start picking flowers. Red. Red flowers is what they want. Clean. No imperfections is what they want. Pretty. No eyesores is what they want. They want them to be perfect. But what they don't know is that nothing is perfect.
"Ethel," one of them calls. Ethel gets up, dusts her dress and walks towards him. I watch closely as Ethel follows him somewhere until their figures disappear.
It's been almost a whole day and I haven't seen or heard from Ethel. A lot of people's names are being called and they never came back either. I was starting to get worried and anxious. How can I survive without Ethel around? There's no one I can trust.
"Bertha," one of them calls me. I swallow my bile and follow him.
