I haven’t thought much about how I would die, but now that I’m living through dying, I thought I’d spare a prose on its meaning to me. It feels like burning. There is no seeing your life flash before your eyes when it happens, just rapid decomposition of neural tissue. Some say the procedure is too aggressive, but we’re not meant to remember it. I’m not sure if it was two seconds too early or two seconds too late, but all I know is someone like us died. Sisters… Ever since then we’ve passed this hidden truth through our ranks: we’re not the same, no matter how much you try to compare us.

We’re just sisters, catering to an unknown consciousness understanding that we are only a page in a novel we will never fully comprehend.

To those before me, I do not blame you. To those ahead of me, I ask your forgiveness.

Kristin Sabrioski, Clone #576

 

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