You will never be free of me. You will never be free of me until both of my children are safe.[to Serena]
Whether this is my end or a new beginning, I have no way of knowing. I have given myself over into the hands of strangers. I have no choice. It can’t be helped. And so I step up, into the darkness within or else the light.
There’s a window with white curtains, and the glass is shatterproof. But it isn’t running away they’re afraid of. A Handmaid wouldn’t get far. It’s those other escapes. The ones you can open in yourself given a cutting edge. Or a twisted sheet and a chandelier.
Now I’m awake to the world. I was asleep before. That’s how we let it happen. When they slaughtered Congress, we didn’t wake up. When they blamed terrorists and suspended the Constitution, we didn’t wake up then either. They said it would be temporary. Nothing changes instantaneously. In a gradually heating bathtub, you’d be boiled to death before you knew it.
It’s their own fault. They should have never given us uniforms if they didn’t want us to be an army.
I would like to be without shame. I would like to be shameless. I would like to be ignorant. Then I would not know how ignorant I was.
Who can remember pain, once it’s over? All that remains of it is a shadow. Not in the mind even, in the flesh. Pain marks you, but too deep to see. Out of sight, out of mind.
We get so comfortable with walls. It doesn’t even take that long. Wear the red dress, wear the wings, shut your mouth, be a good girl. Roll over and spread your legs. Yes, ma’am. May the Lord open.
We come together in peace. To celebrate the babies born in our district. We dedicate ourselves and our children to God. It takes a village… and machine guns. Who among them can be persuaded? Who can be turned, ignited, to burn this s*** place to the ground?