It was my seventeenth birthday, the first day of the last year of life as I knew it.
I could clearly see the maleficent glint of the gold-inked “Eye of the Lord” symbol—the government seal of New North—shimmering on the letter in my father’s hand. It sent a shiver down my spine, as if the eye was really watching me.
So many citizens of New North feel safe and protected under the watchful Eye of the Lord. But to me, all I see is that I will soon be stripped of the freedoms and joys of my life.
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