Short Story: The Chains

Anaya Moin narrates a dystopian story that serves as a brutal metaphor for the cycles we call normal life as it follows Will, a boy who watches his friends break under the weight of a System that demands everything and gives back only trinkets.

Everyone is born in a room.

The day Will was born, just like every other, he was granted a room of his own. His room was situated in the middle of a corridor, positioned straight ahead and directly across from his parents’ room. To his left was George’s room, and to his right was James’s…two of his closest friends.

All the rooms could open, connecting the inhabitants with each other. All except one. At the very end of the corridor stood the last door. It had no handle anyone could remember touching, no scratches, and no dents… it was just there. People whispered that it was a door to the “Outside.” According to them, it was a threshold to beauty and mountains, a door to the magnificent sunsets of the world, and to wind that didn’t smell of metal and sweat. It was a door to freedom. Freedom… a word that felt dangerous for little Will even to contemplate.