A city illuminates in red and blue. Painting their steaks of neon across the streets, allowing light to reflect from the puddles on the cobble stone path. So that's what I see while hanging upside down on the rooftop with my feet holding firm to the bars. I entrust the air and natural forces of gravity with my life, all the while not caring to fall.
Water leaks from the sockets of my eyes. Sending an electric buzz through my veins and short circuiting my vision.
I hate crying.
The last time I cried was before the government took me in as a guinea pig for their "social experiment" being torn from my father who said "they were good people who will take care of me" but knowing he was lying through his teeth to protect his own life. Reflecting on that memory when waking up from the anaesthetic made me cry along with the uncomfortable adjustment of holding robotic parts in my body.
They made me a weapon.
Well fuck them.
I'm not their weapon.
I don't know how many tears I spent that night nor for the entire month. But I haven't cried since... until this moment.
"Co'mon Acutita, let's go back to the dorm before Zella knows you're up here."
I already want to let my feet slide, free falling in the air is better than returning to that facility.
"Just let me breath." I say.
