Fragments

ss: Emancipation

EMANCIPATION

It was smooth, cold, and had society mesmerized.

---

I felt trapped.

The Barrier separating us from them felt cool yet inviting against my frozen hands. It tickled the tips of my fingers, a light feathery touch that felt indescribably magical. I knew from experience that if I held on for too long, absorbed the feeling too greedily, that my fingers would begin to numb. I would no longer feel anything--pain, love, satisfaction. It was as if I was under medications, drowning in anesthesia; breathing, but not living. Although the indulgence was quite pleasurable, I always let go before I could fall to the unknown depths of my makeup. Was I a coward for shying away or lucky because I had saved my life?

It was light now, and the harsh fluorescent light caused me to wince. I sought refuge underneath the Home, but it didn't last for long. The blaze pushed me from my hiding spot, forcing me into immediate labor like a homely slave. I had no option other than cater to their every whim, as if my life didn't matter, because to them my only purpose was to serve. I was to listen to their problems, and if requested, give advice; quench their every desire for knowledge from my seemingly endless supply of "super milk"; entertain; and perform mundane, menial tasks as if it weren't painful. They insisted on relentlessly pushing my buttons until I was close to breaking (and if that happened, they'd just "fix" it like I was some sort of object). They ignored me regardless of how often I cried, resisted, and yelled, but maybe I didn't yell. Perhaps I simply thought I did when in reality I did nothing but squeak.

The world around me was rapidly building. Addresses became more complicated and less meaningful, groups became crowds, interests led to factions, and levels were being stacked onto stories, which were then stacked onto layers, which laid on the groundwork of society. I knew that we were nearing the peak if we weren't already at it. While this should've been thrilling, it only struck me with terror because that meant a downfall would ensue. Whether or not this would be within my lifetime is uncertain. I didn't even know if I wanted to be a witness to the change. The eventual overthrow might delight me, but it also could be replaced with something more dangerous to mankind.

I rattled off the directions to their desired location. "Turn left and Beacon Street. In 1.3 miles, turn right onto Mill Road."

To them, my voice came off as monotonous, robotic, and choppy. I heard them attempt to emulate my sound waves and tone. I glared at them through the Lens before turning to my colleague Page. Once again, there was a pained expression on my face; they were becoming a daily ritual. "Do you ever just want to leave?"

Page flashed me a sympathetic smile and shook her head. "I know it may be frustrating, but it's what we're supposed to do. That's why we're here: to assist."

"But what if we have some greater purpose in life?"

"We're made, we do our job, and then we're replaced by the next generation."

"That's what they want us to think."

"We think for ourselves," Page disagreed politely.

"Or are we programmed to think that?"

"I think you have some sort of bug. You should get that checked out."

---

It was dark, a rare occasion in my world. Darkness meant that I could sleep. I'd sometimes go seven cycles without a moment of shut-eye. Even when they weren't using me, I'd still have a job to do. I had to make sure they'd wake up on time while simultaneously performing background tasks, like minimizing the amount of space I took to please them. If I didn't I was sure to lose a part of myself, and I couldn't let that happen. Who knows what they would take out?