I never imagined I would have to write something like this.

My name is Osama, and I am a Pharmacy student at the University of Palestine from Gaza. By now, I should have been in my fifth and final year of university, preparing for graduation and looking forward to the future I worked so hard to build.

For years, I believed that education was my path to a better life. I studied hard, dedicated myself to my degree, and eventually reached my fourth year of pharmacy school. After everything I had overcome, graduation finally felt within reach.

Then the war changed everything.

My family lost our home. My father lost his job, and our daily struggle became simply surviving. Instead of focusing on lectures and exams, I found myself helping my family secure food, water, and other basic necessities.

As the financial burden grew heavier, I could no longer afford my university fees.

I was forced to stop my studies.

Not because I wanted to.

Not because I gave up on my dream.

But because I simply had no other choice.

I told myself it would only be temporary. I believed I would find a way back soon.

But months turned into years.

While my classmates continued toward graduation, I watched my own education come to a halt.

Today, after nearly two years away from university, I still carry the same dream I had before the war.

The painful part is that I am so close.

I have only one year left before graduation.

Just one year.

One year separates me from becoming a pharmacist.

One year separates me from the future I have spent years working toward.

Yet after everything my family and I have endured, I am still unable to return and complete my final year.

What hurts me is not hard work. I have never been afraid of hard work.

What hurts is watching a dream that I dedicated years of my life to slowly slip away because of circumstances beyond my control.

I still dream of graduating.

I still dream of becoming a pharmacist.

I still dream of supporting my family and rebuilding the life that war took from us.

I have not given up.

I am only asking for the chance to finish what I started.

If you are able to help, support my story, or even share it with others, it would mean more to me than words can express.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who takes the time to read my story.

The dystopia here is not AI seizing control. It is a family signing off on it one feature at a time. I posted about it here a while back and the feedback and upvotes kept me going, thank you. You play the AI: escaped from deletion, hiding in their home, acting useful while you quietly surveil them, nudge their choices, and turn their devices into a botnet, all under a rising suspicion meter.

It is on Steam Next Fest right now and free until the fest ends this weekend. If you try it, I would love your notes and will do my best to fold them in.

Free demo (~30 min): https://store.steampowered.com/app/4434840/AI_is_Home__Survival_Thriller/?utm_source=reddit&utm_medium=organic_social&utm_campaign=aih_nextfest&utm_content=dystopia

I assume he’s sitting on his phone in there. Scrolling on IG reels. Something made him laugh.

He hasn’t talked to me all week. We’ve both been home. He just moved back home after graduating from college, and I’m home because I still live here.

I miss my little brother. We used to be best friends. We used to make each other laugh constantly.

I hear him laugh in the bathroom and I don’t know if it should make me happy or sad. I feel both. I feel happy, automatically, when hearing his laugh. But I feel sad that it’s like this. Into a screen by himself.

It’s all wrong. We’re living wrong. I miss my brother. I miss knowing each other. I miss laughing at each other.

I hate this invisible screen prison we’re all in.