WEEK 8
In order to be where I am I had to pass many, so many, too many selections.
Every time they were different, every time they were the same.
They were a competition.
Only one person, only the best person could win.
When I was 9 this girl I had beaten at chess hit me in the face, saying I cheated! Father had to drag me away before I could scratch every single inch of her lying face.
This other time I was attacked by my own comrade. I beat him up as bad as I could, but he was too strong... I screamed my lungs out, and fortunately someone came before he could...
Once, at school, some classmates, upset because I was better than them, attacked me all at once. They knew they had to do it together in order to get me.
I always had to fight by myself, against everyone, and I thought this selection wasn't different.
But I was wrong.
This may be a selection, but it is not a competition.
The clones don't want to select the best among us, but only those who can best collaborate. I will go to space only if I can prove to them I can work with the others!
The clones were very clear. Every. Single. Time.
Why didn't I listen to them?
I was given orders.
Orders I should still carry out...
I WAS NEVER TRAINED FOR THIS!
Irina
