She sat in her room. It was a nice room but it felt far too small for her. She was lying upon her bed, its comfiness lost to her bitterness as she stared off into space with an expression of longing and frustration. She hated her life. She felt so sequestered! All she wanted was some freedom! Was that really too much to ask for? Apparently. Whenever she tried to bring up the issue of freedom with the man who ruled her life, she was always shot down. Reprimanded and reminded how lucky she was to have the life she did. Perhaps this was true. Perhaps she had an easier life than most. But that didn't mean she was happy about it and that still didn't mean her life was totally perfect. In fact, the longer she looked at it, the more broken it seemed, but whenever she would try to bring this up with him, it was only ever shot back down again.
Urgh! It wasn't fair! There were just too many rules and expectations. She was not the girl he thought she was. Why couldn't he see that? Why couldn't he let her be who she wanted to be? Why did her life have to be dictated by him? Perhaps he was stronger and smarter than she was, but why was she stuck under his thumb? Oh well, she was stuck with him and his rules for the foreseeable future so there was no point in making herself angry over it. There was no escape for her so she rolled over and turned on the TV for a distraction. Another ad for surgery popped up on the TV.
"Not again!" she sighed to herself, but she didn't shut off the TV. Instead, she let the ad play on. As the ad continued, she felt a strange sense of anger. Without even realizing it, she was scowling at the TV. Here, it said that surgery could fix any ills and she found herself genuinely disagreeing with that statement. Perhaps, for a time, it would work. But would it last? And would it be worth it? Because you'd be losing yourself. By getting a petty cosmetic in order to feel better, you were kind of giving up a part of yourself and there was no guarantee it would be worth it. As if life wasn't grim enough for her already...
The ad finally came to an end but not before an all too familiar voice came on.
"Hi, I'm Blind Mag, the Voice of GeneCo, and I support this message!" the voice was low and smooth, entirely pleasing to the ear. But not to her. Not today. Instead, as the lilting voice echoed at her from the TV, that irrational anger returned and she hissed. Envy coursed through her veins. Blind Mag, this woman on TV, seemed to have the most perfect life in the world. If there was anyone who had it easy, it was her. She looked so free. It was almost too good to be true. It had to be a lie. But at the same time, it looked so pleasing and like a life so much easier than the one she led today. This woman on TV was happy and beloved. The world adored her and she adored the world. The girl who sat watching this figure on TV was the exact opposite. She was hating and hated. Bitter, locked away, lonely and forced to play a role she despised.
At last, it became too much and the TV was shut off again. This did little for the situation because now she was left on her own with only the taunting voices in her head and the almost accusatory overhead light on the ceiling that complimented the mirror on her wall that she didn't exactly feel like looking into today. Honestly, living out this simple yet endless lie for so long impressed her. She was surprised she was still sane. Or maybe she wasn't... Feeling trapped and sick of everything, she threw herself roughly onto her bed and lay down with her eyes shut, trying to catch the sleep that wouldn't come...
"Hello," a soft, male voice called out some time later. It was the man who controlled every aspect of her life. Bitterness swept over her again and she ignored his call. The man tried a few more times, even growing somewhat angry at her refusal to respond, but she was adamant this time and he finally gave up. With a sigh laced with disgust and tiredness, he shut her door again and left her to her thoughts.
"I can't feel nothing at all," she sighed bitterly as sleep finally did come and the darkness swept her away.
AN: In my eyes, Mag, Shilo and Amber are all foils of each other. I feel like this story proves how. Can you tell which woman this story was written for? Or perhaps it was written for all three...
