"In a world where conformity is survival, defiance is the first step towards liberation." — Unknown Aurelia had just turned 17, and for her birthday, she received an assigned bed and uniform in a government-run housing facility. Young women were often sent to these facilities for protection and moral education. Aurelia's arrival at Facility #7 was marked by the sterile clank of gates and the ceaseless hum of surveillance drones above—a chilling reminder of the administration's ever-watchful eyes. The facility's bare white walls, bolted furniture, and omnipresent guards—dubbed 'disciplinary mentors'—embodied the oppressive control exerted over every aspect of the occupants' lives. From strictly scheduled days filled with grueling education sessions to silent, monitored meals in the communal hall, every moment was designed to appear as if it were protection and higher learning. But Aurelia knew better.

I avoid the cold as much as humanly possible. And now, with everything delivered, I practically hibernate. Winter, to me, is anything below 8 degrees Celsius. Anything less, and my ability to function decreases drastically. Today, the cold is the only thing keeping me alive, shock enough to bring me back to reality, pain enough to stop me from drawing my own blood. There's no silver this time, only darkness.