For Zaira this was the way she had to live her life - for as long as that life might be. |
Living in a plastic world Eleven-year-old Zaira lived in a plastic world. And she always wanted to know why. She knew what her mother told her. But she knew there was more. Zaira spent her days looking out her window at the other kids playing below. She wanted to go down there and play with them. But she couldn’t. And she never would. She would never know love either. Zaira could understand the love of a parent. But she was getting to the age that she was starting to think about physical love too. She had herself. But that wasn’t good enough – especially since even touching herself could kill her. Little Zaira looked out at the carpet that separated her plastic world and the door that led to the outside world. She was even sensitive to that. She had never touch it. Zaira didn’t have any friends. Only her mother Vaire came to see her. But she only did that to bring her something to eat. Which was also deadly to her. There was limited kinds of food Zaira could eat. Vaire Could watch her via a Video Feed above the door. Zaira didn’t know if she ever watched her. But she didn’t think that she did. ‘Why do I have to live like this?’ Zaira had thought about that a lot – especially since becoming a woman. She went to her Data Monitor for answers. Which was an electric book to the world. Zaira never saw a felt a real one. But she had seen them via the kids below. <<*<<*>>*>> That day Vaire came into Zaira’s world. What she found was Zaira laying on the floor – dead. A cut in the plastic did it – a cut did from the inside. The End? |