MOAT 2342 - Zilla (Era 2 - Episode 22 - Tira’s Diary Audiobook)

Описание: Disclaimer: This was made with the assistance of AI.

Tira's Diary (Youtube):    • 124). Tira's Diary (AI Audiobook)  
Tira's Diary (Notion): https://www.notion.so/Tira-s-Diary-Au...
Dear Mother,

I think I understand Zilla better now.

I don’t think that she was trying to hurt me.

I heard her talking the other day. I don’t think she knew I was close enough to hear. She was quiet, the way people are when they think they’re being careful. She said my name like it was something fragile.

She was talking about my orange eye.

She said it wasn’t right to pretend it didn’t mean anything. She said some things are signs, whether people like it or not. She said it wasn’t fair to the others to ignore patterns just because they’re uncomfortable.

Someone else asked what kind of patterns.

Zilla said the diary. She said the graveyard. She said how I talk to myself sometimes. She didn’t say *curse*, but she didn’t have to. The word was already there, waiting.

She said she wasn’t accusing me, that I didn’t choose my eye color. She said she just thought it was better to be honest. She said morality only works if you name risks before they grow, like weeds in a garden.

I don’t think she was lying.

That’s the worst part.

It feels like I’m something they have to manage. Not punish — just *contain*. Like a sickness you don’t talk about out loud because everyone has to keep living in the same space.

I’ve always known my eye was different. A part of me is releived to hear someone say it out loud.

It doesn’t seem to matter how careful I am. Or how patient. Or how useful. It feels like I’m being measured against something I didn’t choose. Like I started the game already behind and no one is allowed to say that’s what’s happening.

I don’t think Zilla hates me. I think she believes she’s doing the right thing. That’s what makes it so hard to argue with. How do you prove you’re safe when the problem isn’t what you do, but what you *are*?

I keep wondering if this is why nothing ever changes. Why I can do everything right and still feel this lingering wrong.

I think everyone knows and just doesn’t say it. Sometimes I think they’re being nice because they have to be. Because we all eat together. Sleep under the same roof. Pretend not to notice things that would make it harder to get through the day.

I don’t know how to redeem something that was decided before I ever spoke.

I can wear the blue lens, but everyone already knows. And those who don’t might feel betrayed when they find out. That’s why I stopped wearing it for parents at least.

I don’t feel angry. I just feel hollow.

I wish you were here. Not to fix it — just to have someone else here who has orange eyes.

your daughter,

Tira