Population Count: 203- 'Residents Safe and Accounted For'
Time moves differently here. Sometimes it feels as if it doesn't move at all. Every day is a perpetual summer; one day never the same, but never different. You wake up from empty sensations, choose a new outfit, not bothering to impress anyone anymore, you plaster a fake smile on your face and embody the persona you've been so desperately perfecting. You can't let anybody sense that you're angry, or upset, they might think you're suffering from melancholia. So instead, you have your emotions picked for you. Otherwise, they'll take you away. Nobody knows where, but when you come back, you're another person. Changed for the better, as they put it.
You have no memories, no ability to fight back, that's the first thing they take away from you.
It's funny, you get here, not knowing how, and you believe everything's perfect. Idyllic. You're given everything you could ever want, everything you need, yet, there's something missing. Something you want. Crave. The ability of living. Living freely. No restrictions or expectations you spend so long on, trying to please people. I wish not to be in this facade of an everlasting 'dream' that's controlled purely by men. It's just getting boring. And I feel like I'm being left out of something. Something much bigger than me. As if there's a secret nobody's letting me in on. They say it's to keep you 'safe'.
Safe.
He came home a few days ago, slightly annoyed that dinner wasn't already laid out on the table for him. But instead of saying anything, he snaked his arms around my waist, like he always does, and whispered; "It's ok darling, I know you've been busy." I'm not sure what it is, but whenever he speaks, my stomach churns at the sound of his raspy voice. We used to be in love. It's just not the same. But as displeased as I may be, I smiled once more and said "Sorry." Why did I apologise?
Why am I even here?