Forgetting Me
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- Votes 1
- Parts 2
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Wed, Jul 1, 2020
We were supposed to forget. Supposed to forget the past year and wake up with a clean slate, a chance at redemption. You couldn't fight it, the government would find out - they find out everything. We were supposed to forget who we are, but I remembered.
***
They say pain is relative. That nothing is permanent and everything will slowly fade back to normality. They say pain is normal, normal to be and live in constant fear for yourself and others around you. They say pain is 'not that big of a deal', when inside you want to scream and curl up on the floor, seeking human consolation. But, in my head, pain is all I know.
It hurts. The white light invades my brain, my soul and my heart, reining control over my entire being. It drives out the precious laughs, tears, smiles and scowls, leaving me with a blank page. A 'clean slate' or 'a second chance' is what they called it. I saw through the facade, I saw the real intentions behind the programme - it didn't matter who or where we were, they had this constant need to suppress any form of living other than the way they wanted, a way to control the human race.
But this year, this year would be different.
I wasn't going to forget.
No, I wasn't going to be Forgetting Me anytime soon.
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#114
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I had been living in this dystopian universe my whole life. We lived simple, meaningless lives. I wasn't sad, merely dissatisfied. No one here was ever sad. The Center, which was our government, forced us to take a pill every morning to make sure we were always happy and healthy. For most of our lives we lived at home with our odd families that the government stuck us into as babies. Usually five children were put into each household. We grew up together in a single house, raised and taught by a robot even though none of us were related. We lived at home with limitless entertainment in the form of advanced technologies. We had one day of the week for shopping, one day for going out and one day for labor. On labor days we were assigned a job and had to complete it in order to gain money for the week. Everyone got the same amount no matter the job. If you didn't show up for these jobs there were grave consequences. The Center often used torture as a method of punishment, or so we were told. No one close to me had ever actually been punished by The Center though. It was incredibly rare. Most of us lived our lives as good little pawns doing nothing more than eating, sleeping and entertaining ourselves. But one day, my regular boring life changed...
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