I wrote this as a very tired Alyianna during exam time in June. I didn't think I was going to post this, but I decided to anyway.
Swipe, swipe. My hand moves a cloth rhythmically over the kitchen floor. Rhythmically and automatically.
They have succeeded. I am now a robot, good for nothing but poring over textbook and chunking out test scores for my parents. It's not for me anymore - I'm too tired and despondent and too robotic to think about that.
They've made me into the new woman, made in their image. I'm ready to listen to and then spew out any propaganda they tell me. But I when repeat it, it's in a tired voice. Who cares about Hobbes and Locke and Rousseau and Smith?