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Reading all these articles about traveling that I need to cover reminds me of my family.
How I miss them, especially my sister. Before the war, we would go have a picnic in a clearing near the forest every weekend. My sister and I would make flower crowns out of the daisies growing there. We would make one for everyone, even for my dad and my older brother. Dad would put them on his head, not at all embarrassed. It was a different story for my brother, however. We begged him to wear the flower crown on his head for just a few seconds, just enough time to snap a photo.
I burned a lot of photos of me and my family including that one. Happy people have no history, after all.
Honestly, our family didn’t even think the fighting would reach the countryside, but it did. Military forces were everywhere, and there was a curfew in place. We couldn’t go to the park anymore. They said it wasn’t safe because the rebels could be hiding in the woods.
My family disappeared from my life one by one. The president called for boys eighteen to thirty years of age to serve in the military, so my brother went with the soldiers. My dad was too old, so he stayed with us. A year after, he came back to us in a wooden box. It was the first time I saw my dad cry. Mom was taken hostage by the rebels one morning when she went to the market. She died protecting another hostage from getting shot. Dad was taken away by soldiers, after stealing food from them. It was my fault, I got sick and… It was just my sister and I left at the end of the war.
Everyone in the country was devastated by the time the fighting ended. No one had the will to work anymore. No one was happy. So, the government decided to release pills all citizens needed to take, to keep us happy and productive. My sister refused to take the pill, so she needed to be educated. She was taken away for “reprogramming,” as they called it. I haven’t seen her since, but I know she’s okay. We were all given tasks, so maybe she was sent to do a different one.
What am I thinking about my family? There’s no use thinking about the past. What matters is the present. I caught a glimpse at the clock, it’s 10 AM. No wonder I’ve been thinking about sad things. It’s been an hour since I had my last pill!
“Happiness is a choice,” I said. It’s the words on every poster on every wall in the office to remind us to take the pill. It was a mantra by everyone.
I took one pill from the bottle and swallowed it.