Life in MemoriesI'm scared. I can feel them watching me, calculating my growth. Every inch I grow is another inch to my awakening. I'm not sure how I know the things I know, I've never even opened my eyes to see the ones who created me. Their chatter in distinct, even filtered through the liquid I'm suspended in. Though the langue they speak is foreign from the langue I remember, I can somehow understand a little of what they are saying. They are talking about how I'm almost fully mature. Apparently they have noticed that my brain activity is at a high level. They know that I'm conscious.Gripping my legs tighter in my fetal position, I bury my head in my knees and squeeze my eyes closed. I don't want to wake up. I'm not supposed to wake up. This world is not my home. I can remember who I was before. I remember the sun, the grass and the cool breeze. A little house in a vast sea of identical ones. But that one was mine. It was yellow and had a little white fence with browned grass. Inside was my life.