[ WP ] In the future , governments uses a supercomputer to calculate the perfect job for everyone , at which they can brings out maximum contribution for the society . You just got a letter that says your perfect job is `` STAY AT HOME AND AVOID ANY INTERACTION WITH OTHER PEOPLE AT ALL CAUSES . ''

I headed back into my bedroom, dropping my keys on the kitchen counter and throwing my coat over back of the chair as I passed through the lounge. I wanted a shower before going to bed as well, being out all day had had a certain `` detrimental effect on my appearance'' according to my housebot. I never trusted her anyway, she was just one of those government giveaways, designed purely to monitor us I was certain of it. 
 
 I remember receiving the letter. The fateful day that started this whole chain off. As was showering I re-imagined myself opening it, hoping that I'd get a good job. I was the youngest of my friends, and I remember us all getting together whenever any of us turned 21, giddy with excitement for one another, hoping we'd all end up with fantastic jobs. But then it was my turn, and mine told me something none of us had seen, or even heard of before. In all capital letters: 
 
 `` STAY AT HOME AND AVOID ANY INTERACTION WITH OTHER PEOPLE AT ALL COSTS'' 
 
 That was it, plain and simple in the middle of the page, embossed slightly in a deep vermilion ink. I thought it was a joke, maybe one of them had played a prank on me and switched the letters? The watermark on the paper showed me they had n't though. Looking back, the ostracising started immediately, my friends were scared, my parents worried. They were a doctor and accountant, very good jobs by all accounts, helping people healthy and helping the economy tick over. I would n't be doing either of those things. 
 
 I'd managed to keep to myself for a few years, but when I turned 25, I realised I needed to leave change this torturous cycle I was in. I'd always been social and outgoing, yet being stuck in my apartment for the last 4 years, having meals and other necessities delivered through the small, latched compartment attached to my door, was slowly killing me. I needed to get out. 
 
 So I did. I'm not sure I was ready though, and I'm not sure they were either. I guess it does n't matter any more. 
 
 I scrubbed the last bit of blood out from under my nails, I do n't even know how it got there, I'd have to wear gloves next time. If there was a next time. I could hear the sirens getting close already.
