Hello! I am the weak female lead in this dystopian Y.A. action movie, and I really just need to lie down. Ever since we ran away from Society six days ago, my ankle’s been acting weird. Not, like, broken-weird, but every time I step down it kind of makes this clicking noise? Wait, it just did it again. Did you hear that?
Our ragtag group of renegades knows that there’s no turning back, now that the stakes are life or death. I’ve grown to trust many of them, except Chris. Maybe I’m reading into things, but he’s never asked me a single question about myself, even though he’s made an effort to talk to literally everyone else. Also, yesterday, I offered him a bite of my roasted rat and he didn’t even say thank you. I just feel like he hates me. Do you think he hates me? . . .
Society’s Guard has almost discovered us several times, and when we hid in that moldy basement—not the first one but the second one—I think I inhaled something bad. My face was close to the exposed wall and now my throat is scratchy? I’m a hypochondriac so it could totally be nothing, but it could also be cancer. . . .
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Last night, we were captured by Society’s Guard and betrayed by Chris, who gave up our safe-house coördinates in exchange for immunity and six cans of beans. Literally, why does he hate me?!
Now we are all in prison, waiting for the Pr0gRaM, which is a serum Society injects into our brains, to rid us of any freethinking, critical, individualistic impulses until we are all mindless, loyal drones. I jokingly asked one of the guards if he could just re- Pr0gRaM my brain to get rid of my A.D.H.D., and he laughed. Maybe I should try standup comedy? . . .
Huzzah! A resistance of misfits within Society’s walls has broken us out of prison and now we have regrouped to fight another day. However, the two men I have been embroiled in a love triangle with this whole time have forced me to choose between them. Stressful! One is someone I’ve known my entire life. The other is someone I’ve known for five days and talked to twice. This choice is a hard one, and I am paralyzed with anxiety! Especially because one is blond and I don’t do blonds. I will most likely date both men for as long as I can and then, ultimately, either take a cyanide pill or marry the one I like less.
Also, I haven’t taken a shower in two weeks and I feel like I have a U.T.I. . . .
For some strange reason, I have been voted to be the leader of this final uprising against Society. I believe they have mistaken me for another brunette named Rebecca who is good at stuff like this. Regardless, I had to make a big speech in front of the entire resistance to fire them up for battle, but public speaking is my greatest fear and I feel like I said some weird stuff! Like, I kept calling people “girlies,” and I feel like I shouldn’t have mentioned how scary Society’s new laser-your-eyeballs-out-of-your-head guns are. Morale is low, and I am spiralling that this is all my fault! . . .
The battle against Society is over and the resistance has won! We lost many men, even Chris, but their deaths, his especially, were necessary sacrifices for the greater movement. The evil leader of Society has surrendered, and, in a symbolic act, I shot and killed him in front of all of Society. I had never shot a gun before, so I first shot his knee, and then I shot his arm, and then I shot that same knee a couple more times by accident. He died very slowly and publicly and it was so awkward! . . .
It’s been a few months since the big battle, and life is peaceful, at last. There is no more war, no more repression, and no more poverty. Everything is great, and I have completely moved through the trauma of all the death I experienced. Even my love-triangle situation has been resolved. I married the one I like less! Do you think I made the wrong decision? ♦
