The ship had always been home. Born here eighteen years ago, just like J349. I had no understanding of the outside world except what I learned through historical artifacts bought from the black market. Books, clothes, and even food from the old world was sold in darkened rooms and traded between friends under tables. I read hundreds of books from the old world. All the stories about love and beautiful places and freedom. Those were fantasy to me because Mother Country erased those ideas and the populace had forgotten. Some words didn’t exist anymore. I had to trade one of my finest Old World scarves for an Old World dictionary just to be able to comprehend the books. Some of the elders, before their termination ceremonies, handed down ancient stories about what life was like outside of water. So long ago. When the world was more peaceful. When countries didn’t try to bomb each other out of existence. And even though I believed the elders were telling the truth, that land on Earth before the war was vast and green with the sun’s warmth breathing on your skin, I always figured the stories had to be a lie. How could a …show more content…
Crying took a lot of energy out of the little ones, and so for the rest of my work shift, I watched sleeping babies. But I couldn’t complain. I loved when they slept. They seemed so peaceful and innocent with their lack in intellectual capacity to understand how the real world worked. Soon, they would grow up and some bastard down in Level One would designate how they live their lives. Cradle to grave. What to eat, how to exercise, how to love, who to marry, what size cup your breasts should be, whether or not you need a new nose, darker skin, a freckle bleaching, and so on and so on. Even my lipstick color was chosen for me. Radical Red to enhance my raspberry lips. The only color they allowed me to wear. Red heels and lips; black, grey, white, or nude for everything