Sanity is a privilege in this new world, or at least that's what the 'Untainted' tell themselves.
If you asked me, which foolishly never happens, I would tell you that our fragile state of mind is merely a gilded cage in this new era, a pathetic excuse the 'Untainted' use to believe that they're better than us, and the only real reason why we're stuck in these cellars, and they're not.
The soft thud of a rubber ball hitting my head snaps me out of my philosophical reverie.
"Must you make everything into a weapon, Ley?" I sigh dramatically as I crane my head to the side, shooting my roommate a playful glare.
"I can hear you mumbling. Again. I'm trying to sleep," She retorts with a groan as she covers her head with the flimsy excuse for a pillow that comes with the room, to reiterate her point. She sighs as she turns to the side, those fathomless brown eyes of hers, so similar to mine, boring into me, "and so do you. Tomorrow's a big day, Mory."
Mory. The pet name our mother used to call me back when I thought she loved us, before she found out we were 'Tainted' and gave us up to the Movement without a second thought.
"Amora..." my sister begins with a soft, sad sigh as she sees the small frown that's near involuntary whenever memories of our past resurface.
"Relax, Analeia. I'm fine," I say with a reassuring smile, even as the familiar rise of bile tickles my throat "You're right. We do need to go to sleep. After all, it's not every day that the hands of another choose one's fate, amiright?" I say with a wink, but the joke falls flat.
"Oof, tough crowd...," I say, finally eliciting a smile from her before I turn off the lights with a close of my fist and the familiar soft whoosh of wind.