@wid0wd : prompts accepting. Well, whether or not you face the future, it happens, right?
Future? when did you ever have time or the curiosity to even think about the future . . . it was always the next job, the next mission. that future and longing for something called life was ripped from you it seems from when you were born. raised in walls only filled with weapons and build you into the perfect weapon. that longing was gone since the day you had your first kill. a sixteen year old having her first kill while other teenage girls coy over crushes and worried about their looks— a personality you often camouflaged as when you had your jobs that involved infiltrating schools— or at twenty one, when you had first experienced freedom for the slightest moment being far from the tundra winter of canada, a job finally trusting you to travel far from your professor, (Still knowing that you were always being watched. Never free ever).
all of these were memories, these missions are what you play back when she mentions future because is there really ever going to be a future for you? for girls like you. No. It will always be the next job, and if not, the knowledge and acceptance that you could die any day and still it will be as if you never existed.
“What future? My future is getting up in the morning, with no other prospect but another mindless kill, and if it’s not that it’s me pretending to have a life just to infiltrate another corrupt politician here, and there, and everyone without a single person ever knowing who I really am. and if I died tomorrow no one will ever remember me. So what future are we talking about?”
