[ WP ] In the realm where souls reside before we 're born , everything is pretty great . There 's no poverty , no one wants for anything , everyone knows their role and purpose . It is , essentially , perfect . But that perfection is accomplished via draconian law : the only punishment is the `` birth penalty ''

In Elysium, life ends with birth. 
 
 Sure, it seems like a utopia. Maybe it even was at one point. It must have been for things to get like this. But now, it ’ s as far as it could be. 
 
 I ’ m on the run. If they find me – and they will, they always do – I will be here no more. My soul will be ripped from my body and transported into the aether, gone until I walk amongst the mortals. The husk will be fed to the hound that catches me, most likely. 
 
 It ’ s been thirteen days since they sent out the search party for me. According to them, I ’ ve committed treason against my fellow kind. If treason is speaking against the unreasonable laws, then I guess I ’ m as guilty as charged. But it shouldn ’ t be that way. And I plan to stop it. 
 
 You see, the thing about a utopia is it needs unwavering synchronicity. If a single cog in the machine is jammed, it needs to be removed immediately. After all, no one will notice the problem if it ’ s out of sight. Not as long it wrapped up in the need to purge “ negative influences for the betterment of society ”. One cog is nothing compared to the wellbeing of the machine. 
 
 I ’ m one of those cogs. 
 
 I don ’ t have much time. Alone, I can ’ t stop them. However, there is still one chance to make an impact. And if it works, it will definitely leave its mark on the world. 
 
 A rogue wind runs past me, freezing my sweat-laden clothes. I glance down, watching the sea of people move to their various destinations. They move in harmony, no clutter despite the hundreds of people moving towards different places. They ’ re all unaware, each naïve to what is behind the scenes. As they eat form the hand that feeds them, the other is slowly but surely wrapping around their throat. 
 
 I take in a deep breath, closing my eyes. I can ’ t remember how high I am yet I know it ’ s more than enough. My feet teeter on the edge of the building, the weight of my body threatening to bring me crashing down. After exhaling, I succumb to gravity ’ s pull, leaning forward. 
 
 As I fall, the wind shrieks in my ears. Yet it can ’ t block out my buzzing mind. I ’ ve still so much to think about in these last moments. I ’ ve never felt so free before. And to think, my sacrifice will not only save me from experiencing birth but possibly thousands of others. If only I had realized this earlier. As I collided to the ground, I let out a sigh. 
 
 I ’ ve found my purpose.
