Words of Wisdom:

"No-one is listening until you fart." - Sheetal

Dystopian Short Story: Intro

  • Date Submitted: 10/28/2015 06:35 AM
  • Flesch-Kincaid Score: 68.9 
  • Words: 285
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Due to the brittle situations of constant fights among various types of human beings, the government
decided to group their citizens into countless Sectors.

That was the first line from the first page of the decayed, ripped book within the brick walls of the
government building.

It was 2088.


Nerve wrecked and jittery, I planted myself on the black, metal chair at the back corner of the
disheveled hall. Thousands of wooden doors, each one carved with a unique pattern, aligned perfectly
around the concrete walls. In front of me was a massive crowd, chattering softly with an even, remote
voice. By the word massive, it refers to the entire sixteen-year-old population in the city.
Unquestionably, the teenagers were separated into countless groups. Boundaries were made clearly by
an extensive red fetter, separating each sector accurately.

Glancing from the back of the hall, the young faces were expressionless. Though they had dissimilar
appearances, they gave me the same impressions. They were like robots. Everyone was lining in a
straight line, facing the front and standing unbelievably straight with both hands attacked to their
outer thighs.

Like infinite black holes, their eyes seemed to never focus on a certain point.

“Passion is not burning in them. I can’t see any exceptions,” I claimed patently because they look
completely opposite from my image in the mirror. In the reflection, the colors of my life, my passion,
and my dream were enriched in the dark pupils. When I searched deep in my eyes, I saw infinite
hope. I could glimpse my soul.

I used to believe that everyone was special in their own way, but from what I saw, I figured out I was


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