the glitch.

Hello.

My name is Melisa, although you can call me M-2468. I know, it's a strange name, isn't it? Like an android.

You could define me like this, I've behaved like a robot; I am not allowed to feel or raise my voice.

I must follow others steps and serve them without doubting in their words.

The future has changed, it was already changing when I was younger.

In my teenage years, technology was a big thing. Mobile phones, tablets, computers, voice identifiers, or the whole control of a place at the touch of a button.

Explore worlds much sharper than reality, but much more empty.

The instant connection between geographically separated people, the opportunity to feel through a screen.

"Social media" or "digital platforms", we were like trapped fish, hungry and desperate to see a heart formed of pixels that meant the approval of society.

Technology was something new and old at the same time; there were many things to do and discover and yet it seemed that everything was invented.

We all thought that the Third War that would stir the world would be a chemical war, such powerful weapons capable of eliminating an entire city. But we were wrong.

We were so engrossed in our screens that we didn't realize we had war in our hands.

A technological war, with codes and sources. With attacks that could be programmed with the push of a key.

"The Binary War" was called.

You don't know what a powerful weapon information can be, political parties were attacked with private information that their "hackers" got.

Threats were rising, it was becoming easier to get inside information.

Nobody left the house anymore, everything was done through the screens, even voting. There were no more ballots or ballot boxes; there was no propaganda in the streets or regular mail.

Many people took advantage of this situation to position themselves wherever they wanted, manipulated the votes or electoral programs of others.

So many things were done in such a short time and without any control that it all ended up plunged into chaos.

The Government had no choice but to take an anti-history stance.

Any television, web page or console was banned. Anything that needs an internet connection to work.

This caused a revolution in the streets. There was no talk of it on social media or television, but there were handmade posters stuck on streetlights and poles.

It looked like we were back in the 1920s and that complicated things a lot more.

Many people wanted the return of computers and mobiles, of their wings to be able to express themselves freely. The Internet was the only tool for it.

That revolution was so great and aggressive that the government had no choice but to take the most extreme of measures: the prohibition of feelings.

If people did not feel they would have no desire to express their ideas and the revolution would not count on more allies, as people would be unable to empathize with the cause.

The rules were clear: they had to inject us with a solution that completely numbed our ability to feel. This solution was injected through the head, right into the limbic system, where our emotions are born.

Many people refused and were eliminated for being rebels and many others escaped into the forest, where police could not find them.

The solution was injected every month, it was the maximum of time that lasted, in The Council.

We all climbed a great platform and in front of our Brothers and Sisters we were injected with this substance.

To further ensure security and avoid confrontations, we were separated into factions: Sisters and Brothers. Women and men.

If you are with those people who are more like you in taste and physical, there will be less chance of generating a confrontation.

I still remember the day I broke the barrier, it was the first day of July. A summer night when we all went to The Council to celebrate the ceremony.

The Sisters were dressed in white dresses that had our names and identification numbers engraved on silver plates and the Brothers were dressed in black suits and with the same badge attached to the jacket.

I remember looking to my right, as a reflex act perhaps, and then I saw him.

Light brown hair, so light that it seemed to have blond reflections, very dark brown eyes and two dimples on the cheeks.

He also turned, looked to his left, towards me.

For a long time I saw unexpressed eyes, my reflection in the pointless mirror. My gaze was empty and white, but when we looked at each other my eyes made sense again.

I felt like I was waking up from a dream, how I broke that wall they had built in my head.

I noticed my heart working again after a long time, as the dust was cleaned and my cheeks were burning again.

What it was like to blink nervously and smile for no reason, what it was like to feel little butterflies in my stomach again.

I remembered what it was like to be looked at again as if you were the only thing in the world. How that connection, that thread, was more alive and colorful than ever.

I saw him smile and his dimples were marked, as something as simple as that could make me feel something so great. How a simple gesture could be adorable and sweet.

I got up without thinking, I couldn't control my body anymore.

He got up at the same time, it was as if we were united, as if we were two puppets moving in uniesonuming.

We approached little by little, listening to the warnings of the police.

Closer and closer, their voices rose higher and closer.

I didn't hear anything and neither did he.

We were just both in front of each other, like two kids scared they wouldn't like each other.

We raised our hands as if we were reflections, our fingers rubbed. Electricity once again colored my skin, for the first time I was glad to feel the pressure of tachycardia on my chest.

A tear fell down my cheek, I had forgotten what it was like to have such a complex feeling in something as small and easy as a drop.

With his hands joined together and the last words of warning from the police he raised his other hand and put it on my cheek, drying the tears. Then we both sigh as if vents for the first time.

His name, Joel. J-3579.

The police officers came after us, tried to separate us, but we managed to get out of their arms.

We reached out and started running.

You could only hear the sound of our shoes on the streets, the agents started chasing us.

I had forgotten what tiredness, leg pain, or burning lungs was when inhaling cold air. And even if it seems impossible, I've never enjoyed feeling such discomfort.

We went into the woods with the agents stepping on our heels. Our arms began to scratch with the branches, to bleed, and our uniforms to get dirty and torn.

We were like animals running away from the hunter.

We reached a cliff, the cliff of the river. Our only option was to jump.

We looked at the precipice and fear invaded us. We had begun to live again, how many chances were there of not dying?

"Turn yourself in and neither of you will get hurt!" they shouted.

We looked at each other with our bones shaking.

Our pupils began to dance and shine, their eyes began to burn. It wasn't fair.

Our legs were tired, our arms were hurting from the wounds.

The weapons pointed at our bodies, the bullets intended to paint us with our own blood.

We approached our heads little by little, our foreheads came together.

"I love you, " he whispered.

"I love you too, " I answered.

He smiled again and his dimples marked himself. Then I kissed him, noticed my skin curling again. How the adrenaline turned all my blood into gasoline and started to burn.

I kissed him so hard that it hurt, I was holding my last breath for him. I swear I wouldn't have done it any other way.

I noticed his hands firmly grasping my hips and hugging me as if it were the end of the world, as if it were the end of our world.

The weapons started firing, straight to our body.

I could feel my skin passing through, I could hear them passing through theirs. I felt his body squeeze more and more against mine.

How my fingers stuck tightly and tenderly in their necks.

And as if we were made of paper, our bodies pounced on the river.

We fell into slow motion, for a moment I thought time had stopped. We were still holding hands, feeling our bodies slowly shut down.

The sunlight was beginning to blind us more and more and our tears were beginning to dry out.

Our heart was draining and our lungs were so broken that it was tired and painful to breathe.

Our backs hit the water and we sank at the bottom of the river.

Silence, our bodies floated.

We couldn't do anything else; we squeezed our hands once more, one last time, until our eyes only contemplated darkness.

Open, exposed to the world.

Exposed to the idea of losing and not seeing or living any more places. Never see him again.

To not regret again and leave without remorse. Because even if I could have chosen, I wouldn't have done it any other way.