“What do you think happens when god’s not looking?” The little girl mumbled loud enough so her brother could hear. She rolled herself to the end of the faded blue, cotton duvets, stopping two inches from falling over onto the scratched-up, laminate ‘authentic’ bamboo flooring. Jered flinched, keep his eyes trapped onto the reflection of her sibling in the mirror. He dropped his comb and gripped the ledge of the dilapidated, cheap dresser. He rolled his eyes after two seconds, realizing she wasn’t going to roll off the bed for the third time.
“What do you mean?”
“I just said what I mean.”
Jered huffed. He brushed the loose strands of his dad’s suit downwards. The burgundy was faint and the dust coating the color made it look like black velvet.
“God is always looking,” he stated confidently, as if he believed the government. He began to button up the beads along the blazer. “Nothing escapes the master’s eyes.” He spun around and rested his palm from a edge of the dresser, letting his fingers hang off. He drummed them below the edge, trying to remember anything that he had forgotten to recite for the camera.
“What about when he turns his head,” she pressed. “And when he looks at someone else.” Her eyes wandered over him. She longed for an answer the more he stalled.
“God can look at everyone at the same time,” he breathed out. He glanced at the camera in the top right corner of the room where a surveillance camera, locked in a cage. It sat collecting dust flashing a quiet blink of red light every second. “And so does the government.”
The little girl pursed her lips. She tried to separate her eyes from the same gaze, attempting to mimic what Jered had explained. She obviously failed. The left corner of his lips curled up, revealing a long-lost dimple. He began to sort through the room for his wallet.
“Have you seen my-.” A crash echoed through the room, bouncing off each grey wall, landing onto Jered’s ears. He jumped and immediately ran over to pick up his little sister before noticing that she was the reason for the crash. He placed her onto the dresser top and studied the shattered, glass portrait. The picture of the government-given portrait of the Eye, which was their religious symbol, was scattered across the laminate floor. He blankly glanced at her.
“Did God see that?” she piped up.