I was born in January.

So I am January, and everything that it entails. I bear the same name as a million other Januaries just like me, the same look, the same genetic makeup, the same job, the same face, the same goals, and the same dreams. I am and will be a secretary for the rest of my life. I am good at what I do; I was made for my job, and my job was made for me.

I am Same.

I have lived the same as every other January like me for 17 years. And a year from now, on the first of January, I will die from the same genetic defect every January has died from. No January has ever lived past 18.

No January has ever wanted to...until now.

I believe I have been infected with the Unsame Virus. My head aches, throbs, and pounds without ever stopping. Before now, I never felt pain. I know I must turn myself in. That is the only logical thing to do.

It all started with the hideous Unsame One who crossed my path, and thrust a strange object into my hands. It is he who is to blame, and it is I who must fight this. I cannot shut out my master, keeper, and overseer, Time - nor disobey the clock. I will forever march to its dictates and remain true.

I am a Same One.

I was born Same.

I have lived Same.

And I will die Same.

I am January.

I am Same.