Savannah Watson

Unique

The room was bare and blinding white. A sea of people of all ages stood in line at attention. When the line moved, every person took a single mechanical step forward, creating a homogenous echoing sound that rattled around the silent room. Everyone moved the same but looked different. Different hair, different skin, different eyes, different height, different weight.

But not for much longer.

Once they stepped up for their turn, they would be Modified. They would no longer be outcasts, no longer on the outside. They would fit into the molds of society. They would be perfect.

What was the small sacrifice of individuality compared to the enormous gift of belonging?