The Hamartia Project

Chapter Two- Luca (Totalitarian Communism Dictatorship)

Sulit (adj.) something that is worth it

There are two days that I will always remember no matter how old I get: the day I learned I had parents and the day my best friend disappeared.

They are both related, so I will start with the first one.

I was a fresh-faced twelve-year-old who confidently believed that people were genetically modified in a lab and pushed out into society. However, I learned that I was very wrong.

When the teacher in the black, stiff dress marched into my cubicle and explained that every student was learning some biology that day, I literally couldn't stop myself from laughing. There was no way she could be serious about something like this.

Then, she pulled out the diagrams, and the cubicle seemed to shrink.

"This is your civic duty. At the age of 17, you are Matched with someone who shares similar traits with you and your job is to produce two children who are taken to Carehouses. You are not allowed to visit with them; this action ensures that there is no connection formed between both parties, the parents and the child. The number of children produced is critical because it will keep the population balanced, ensure that hunger remains a problem of the past, and continue to keep our economy thriving. On rare occasions, some people are asked to produce three..."

At this point, I was trying very hard not to listen. This whole topic was disturbing in general, but there was something I couldn't get out of my mind, so I interrupted her.

"What if the parents don't want to give up their children?"

"It isn't considered their children in the first place," the teacher stated in a flat tone.

I blinked a few times in response. What did she mean they weren't their children in the first place? Weren't parents the ones who created them?

"No, the parents were the ones who made the child, right?"

At my tone, the teacher's eyebrows furrowed. I was speaking back, an action that was deeply frowned upon by society. Her answers to my questions were flat and to the point, unlike her earlier explanations of the creation process. "It is not yours to keep. It is a civic duty to provide our government and society with children. As a parent, you can best help to ensure that our society will continue to flourish by spending a week with the child before it is moved to a Carehouse where it is able to learn about how to become a better citizen. It learns the traits that you have grown up learning, traits that have shaped you to be a better citizen, and traits that have helped to ensure that you are well-equipped to be a better member of our community."

She sounded scripted, like she was repeating something she had said a million times. As her voice droned on, I could feel anger bubbling at the surface of my mind, urging me to let out the words that were steaming inside of me. I continued to listen as she stated a few more sentences in her clean, monotone voice.

"Seeing your children or contacting them would interfere with their growth process. It is incredibly important that children are given space away from their mothers and fathers because maternal or paternal contact can influence them in a negative way, creating individuals who are not at all concerned about the growth of our community."

My parents were nowhere to be found, but I can honestly say that I don't care about the 'growth of our community' because it doesn't seem to be going anywhere. The instructor's voice is loud and clear, but the reasoning behind her words seems hazy.

Honestly, I felt so infuriated that even the most sensitive of our decisions were being controlled. Who we will love and how many kids we have are decisions that should be granted to us without judgment, let alone total control. I felt anger crawling to the tip of my tongue. There was something I had to say.