Dystopian's Daughter

Teaser

**So I'm not sure about this story. It's one I wrote for Language Arts class, so it's a little spaced out and there are definitely some holes in it. I'd really appreciate if you could give me feedback on if I should keep going, and what I should expand on at the beginning if I did. Thank you, hope you enjoy.**

It wasn't a surprise when the man who invented the most influential piece of tech in human history became president. He was incredibly smart and talented, and extremely persuasive. People loved him so much that he became basically the new king, running unopposed for six straight terms. Then, after the president's seventieth birthday, he announced his son would run in his place, as he was getting too old for "this sort of rubbish". So the president's son came swooping in, dominating the democracy unopposed, just like his father.

His son won over a century ago. I, Alexandra Zadorov, am the great-great granddaughter of the president himself, set to inherit the country like my father, and his father, and his father. Half way through my grandfather's reign, the people voted unanimously to keep the Zadorov family in power, believing that they alone had the responsibility or the knowledge to run the entire nation full of Zadorov tech, including the brain implants that drove my great-great grandfather to power in the first place.

In the years since the brain implants have been mandatory, the white house has grown to become the technical hub, housing all the implants' data, footage, and everything imaginable from the tech my family has built. My father prevented me from going anywhere near the surveillance rooms, confining me to the small wing of the presidential residence.

Everyone born after 2064, the year the President's second term began, was required to have a brain implant, for safety of themselves and of the nation the Zadorovs had built.

I too once thought that the brain implants were simply for increased knowledge, but I soon found out everything my family had been doing for a century was so much more than I ever thought possible. And so much worse.

I've known for a long time that my father was hiding something from me. He always said, "Wait until your eighteenth birthday. Wait until you're eighteen."

Well, the day came, the days leading up to it dragging on like nothing I'd ever experienced before. I waited around the whole day in the sweltering room outside Zadorov headquarters, just waiting and waiting for my father to come and seek me, to finally reveal the truths.

As the sun went down and the moon rose, still nothing had happened. I scratched the tiny scar on my temple, where the implant had been surgically imputed when I was only a baby. Just like everyone else in this country.

The screen that appeared in the vision of your right eye told you your vital signs, schedule, communications, emotions, statistics on what you're seeing or hearing or even thinking, and so much more. You thought it, the screen would pick it up and ask you where to store it.

The time was in the corner of the screen, reading 23:22, almost midnight. On the right side of my vision in red, were the words, "Meet father, 19:30". I willed the bitter thought away.

He did this so often, to the most important things. Since the age of seven, he's missed every single performance, private graduation, scheduled dinner, and everything that could possibly be important to me. My breathing started getting heavier, and normally blue screen in my vision turned to red, flashing "Warning: High amounts of Epinephrine are being released"

The scientific term that means I'm angry. Well, I don't need a stupid screen to tell me that. The warning went away at my very thought of it as I stormed through the door and down the hall. I didn't care about the rules. I didn't care that I could get myself in so much trouble for this. I didn't care about anything except knowing the truth, even if it wasn't my father who was giving it to me.