The Daughter
This is our world. Where your mistakes are counted, your love is forbidden, and you are constantly paying a price to live. There was a time when this wasn’t the case, though it was so long ago I can barely remember it. I can no longer speak freely, but what does it even mean to speak freely? Even if I could speak freely, what would I have to say? I don’t have my own ideas or values...I know I’m thinking as part of the collective, but how could I not? I have gotten comfortable–well, maybe not comfortable–but I guess, used to this world. I don’t know any other way to live.