The moment I got home, I threw up.
It was the first time in my life that I’d ever vomited. My stomach twisted and turned, spitting up whatever it could. By the time every last ounce of fluid had been expelled from my gut, my vision was blurry. My hands shook on the bathroom floor as I slouched back against the wall, head toppling against the crumbling tiles. The soft buzzing of the lightbulb above pulsed in my ears, creating a hazy backdrop for the overwhelming ringing in my ears.
Everything had been a lie. Every. Last. Bit. For seventeen years, I’d been spoonfed lies. Mom and Dad had told me we were the world’s saviors, sparing them from dark futures of unpredictability and despair. We were the reason people were happy. Humanity thrived thanks to our inventions. They told me there was nothing out in the real world worth our worry. No one who mattered more than ourselves. Only a few months ago, I never would’ve imagined that they were wrong.
They knew so little. How could they sit there and tell me there wasn’t a single soul out there worthy of being loved? Had they met everyone? Had they sat down with every person in our city, interviewed them, and then determined that care was something they were unworthy of? They couldn’t have. They had made an assumption and sentenced the whole city to the consequences. People were isolated in their own worlds of blissful ignorance, spending thousands on robots that didn’t care whether or not they lived or died.
I remembered the joy I’d gotten from talking to my chatbots. I’d loved the way they praised me, how they found no issue with anything I said, even if it was a bit brattish. To be honest, I still loved it. What person didn’t like a bit of unnecessary praise? I’d been just as much a victim as anyone else. I’d fallen in love with the predictability, the ability to live in a world where everything was catered to you, and everything loved you. I was the center of the world there. Everyone was. Who wouldn’t fall in love with that?
But seeing the way Craven, Fickle, Link, and Alden lived had changed everything. How could they survive without knowing what the next day would bring? How could they choose to exist in a world they weren’t the center of, and how could their hearts carry so much care for people they barely understood? My parents had told me several times over that the ultimate flaw of human connection was that you could never understand 100% of someone. There would always be something you didn’t know, some part they always kept hidden. That was why technology was so great: it didn’t hesitate to be transparent with you. There was nothing a robot would hide. Instead, it would turn everything it had into something you adored. That was why you could love it unconditionally. So what did those people see in each other?
They were all clearly hiding something. Alden would barely show any negative emotion, no matter how upset he may be. Craven was unable to vocalize what annoyed him, leading to unpredictable outbursts. Link definitely had something to hide, though I hadn’t found out what it was. Fickle…she didn’t even need to hide anything to be annoying. However, despite all of it, they were close as family, probably even closer. I’d never seen my family interact as they did. My family barely ever spoke to each other. I’d thought that was normal, but seeing those photos of Alden’s family had been a slap in the face. Humans were supposed to interact. We were social beings. Our circles were meant to be of other people like us, not robots.
So, where did that put me? If everything I’ve ever known has been a lie, then what do I do now? My head was spinning as the ringing in my ears gradually died down. Part of me wanted to convince myself it wasn’t true. I wanted to run back into the comfort of my headset, tell my mother I had learned my lesson, and spend the rest of my life in blissful ignorance. I didn’t have any problems there. It was safe. The other part, however, was far too traumatized to ever go back. Images of the man in the apartment building, smiling happily as both his body and environment decayed, flashed through my head. I didn’t want to be like that. I didn’t want to be destroyed, especially while I didn’t know it.
There was only one choice left for me then: join whatever rebellion the fools at my school had started.
