the journal of literature and the arts at saint david’ s school
Ray tried to recall when The System took control, or who controlled it. The furthest back he could remember was the first time he had received a gift from The System. It was many years ago, and just like yesterday, the whole society had gathered to request their gifts. Much younger and completely different then, Ray was at first skeptical that anything he wanted would appear, but soon enough it was time. He simply said,“ System, give me a brand new house.” Without missing a beat, The System approved the request, and a house was built. It even came with two sets of keys. It was perfect inside and out, every flower in the garden exactly the same, every blade of grass perfectly cut and attended to. He was so happy and beaming with what he thought was joy. But after a few more years and a few more gifts, the novelty wore off, and suddenly he felt he had been thrown down a deep hole of confusion.
Ray approached his home that had once made him so content, trying to find clues as to when The System had come to power. As he walked the streets he noticed the simple, predictable conversations others had: same tone, same laugh. It was all the same, almost as if variations of each other were only different by appearance. He saw how beneath the surface of this perfect society something felt wrong— almost rehearsed. He saw a leaf freely blowing through the wind.
Does this leaf have more freedom than me? he asked himself. This made him ponder, Are we ever truly free if someone can always control us?
He thought of his“ companion” Jim, hollow inside with such pointless contentment. Then Ray’ s thoughts sharpened. What if I ask The System for something only I can give? Something it cannot? I’ ll try next year. I will ask. For the first time in many years, Ray felt something, something real. He walked
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