((For school I had to write a short story on one of the 16 characteristics of life. This is what I wrote.... duh... XP))

Mistakes

Everything was perfect. No mistakes.

Everywhere the girl looked, she saw the same thing: dismal buildings sorrounded by equally dismal people. People that all looked the same. Same color eyes, same color hair… even same body form.

No one was different. No mistakes.

But it didn’t really faze her as sad or abnormal. No, this was how things always were these days. After all, everyone was born with the same genes, atoms, molecules… This race, “humans,” had been altered to be perfect. They were the healthiest race in the universe.

No imperfections. No mistakes.

Very few people even considered a different life. This was best, right? There wasn’t such a thing as cancer anymore; AIDs were certainly a thing of the past. And the genes and diseases that created imperfections—“defects”—were long gone.

No, life was better this way for everyone.

No imperfections, or diseases, or “defects.”

No mistakes.

But with everything taken to make life “better,” in some ways, it made things worse. Whatever made a person unique—their eyes, their smile, their insane or lovable personality… it was gone. All gone.

No one realized that mistakes were essential in life. You need mistakes to learn, to shape yourself into a better person, to live. Without mistakes, the world is boring and pointless. Everything would be the same.