Cameras. Once just dotted around. But now everywhere. In every house on every street down every road no matter where you go your being watched. Watched like a small child. And then it started. Cameras implanted into your eyes every time you blink every time you stare they can see you. The observers. They took everything colourful now everything is black. You can’t even sleep without them watching you, monitoring your every move, every step, and every breath.
“BEEP!” the familiar noise I was used to waking up to as my eyes were forcefully opened under the control of the observers. “Daddy!” my little girl shouted as she ran at me with open arms. The only joy I have. But as she touched me she dropped to the floor unconscious. Rule 1 No Physical Contact. She always forgets. I can’t even pick my limp lifeless little girl off the floor. Suicide futile. They just knock you out. Rule 2 No Intimacy. I can’t even touch my wife kiss her, caress her or even comfort her when she’s sad. Sad of this sick world we live in. Everyone has an observer attached to them. I’m a number. I’m just a number. Not a man, not even a human. N.O 19038475. Every move I make, every step every sound is monitored like clockwork. The observers. They appeared once a minority now a majority.
“OWW!” My little girl or number 1981380725 as they call her cried as she began to stir. This needs to stop this terror this control. My paradise. A black spot under an old railway where connection is lost and they can no longer watch you. Me and many other lost souls just wanting the best for our daughters. Is it such a crime to want privacy? Even in the shower they watch. To think that some sick and twisted observer can see my daughter at her most vulnerable. Blood boiling. She’s 6 just 6 and already subjected to a life of no privacy. This needs to stop. And all we were left with our families. My only saviours. My beautiful wife and daughter. I have failed them. Unable to protect them or save them from this nightmare called life.
Food. The delicious taste of food sliding down your throat. No more. We are fed. Fed through a tube in our stomach. No food to chew. Just liquid mush. Rule 3 – No Money. We are all issued with grey boiler…