Creative Projects by the University of Montpellier's Master Students in English Studies
My body has always been up for discussion. Before I even understood what “overweight” meant, remarks were already flying. Little jabs at family dinners, unsolicited advice, stares when I reached out for a second piece of cake. Early on, the world made it clear: my body was taking up too much space.
“My name’s Killa, and I’m ten. I live in a village named Quentena, on the Altiplano in Bolivia. My parents and my older brother grow potatoes. I help them on weekends, but I spend the rest of my time in the nearest boarding school. I leave the village every Monday morning before the sun rises. I walk with two other children to the big road where we wait for the bus. We walk one hour, and we ride one hour.
Hello there, my dear me, my old friend.
Life hasn’t done me any favours
Until now, for countless hours
And this is what I wanted to end.
I wish humanity could wake up and collectively make a decision,
Let’s listen to our hearts, as this world is in dire need of correction.
I am filled with so much pain and doubt inside myself.
When we see ourselves through their lens, we’re no longer ourselves.
I was born without a name. I went by my designation number.
The war was still raging.
I was told that I was born because of the war. The others don’t have the X at the end of their designations like I do. I have it because my prototype was genetically enhanced to fight in the war.
When the war ended, they told me my name was Sam and I had a family to go live with. I argued that I had been born to fight a war, not to live an ordinary life. They told me I would have to be terminated since there was no war left to fight.
So, I did what all the other soldiers did—I packed my bags and I went home.
