Illicit Fate

Hours passed as I flipped through my perfect grades, boringly checking them again and again. Tonight was set, knife in my boot as I was getting ready to kill a man.

The bots passed by my room near the time of my scheduled lunch hour, watching me eat my stale bread, poking it from afar. "Your brother is in the infirmary," They announced, emotionless and automatic. Just like every single day.

That kid beater would get his due. 

I grinned back. "My grades?"

"Perfect as always, Rockers." My last name was sung in my ears as common, the exact same thing they used to address my brother. "You should tell your sibling, Rin, to stop seeking out that man. His behavior has been predicted a million times before"-they leaned in-" and it has never been wrong."

I nodded as if my poor brother had a choice, momentarily and patiently replying, "I'll keep that in mind the next time I see him."

Their stands relaxed, shoulders fixing posture. They were great when it came to staring someone down, making them feel small. Shame that didn't work on me. 

They sang, "You will be attending your graduation."

All statements. No questions. Once again-like everything in this society-so very predictable. 

The bots concluded, "Stats have shown a hundred percent attendance in your part. As for Rin...we're afraid not so much but we do predict that you will encourage his presence. If not, we predict you will use that beating stick we gave you."

I forced my head up and down, in what I wanted, to look like a nod. As a combo, I offered the smallest of bows, clenching teeth and displaying a smile. "Well, you've never been wrong, have you?"

The bots continued to stay still. "You're not a rule-breaker, Rockers. We expect nothing more or less from you." They gazed at each other in agreement, metal heads clanking and screeching. It annoyed me, immensely. "After all, you are the perfect girl."

I added, simultaneously, "Likewise."

They left the room, slamming the door and reminding me of the knife itching near my foot. Too bad that beating stick had been sharpened by it. Maybe then they would have had a chance against me when I hacked their core system. 

Sure, their predictions continued. They never stopped and there was nothing I could do about that but I had proven successful when it came to their sensing cameras. Now they wouldn't be able to locate anything below my upper bodice so my knife and all other weapons any student carried wouldn't be detected by any of the bots.  

"Your welcome," I hissed as I sneaked out of my room and met my brother in his own bedroom. They were right next to each other as everything seemed to be for siblings here, juxtaposed beside one another like the bots' comparisons and attention. 

Not that I truly cared. The point was survival. If I had learned anything the past few years, it was exactly that. Survive. Survive. 

I tugged at my brother's arm. "We better hurry. Whatever punishment you're planning to give Harold must be done before-"

"Don't say his name. He doesn't deserve any kindness for how he's treated you."

My brother, Rin, nodded, remembering the bruises, scars, and emotional ruin. What came out of him was an inhumane growl. It made me satisfied.

Rin insisted, "It's time for karma to catch up to him."

My head bobbled in agreement, and as we rounded our quarter's most hidden corner, spotting Harold's house, I whispered, "Well, then I guess I'm karma."

*** 

Harold's home was, nonetheless, a disappointment as always. I had expected nothing more but still, you would have expected a bigger mess from a beater. Instead, we were faced with splatted pieces of broken glass all over the floor and a half-crying/half-sleeping man at the end of the room. He snored loudly as we approached him, feet lighter than a mouse. When we get near arm's length I noticed that his legs were attached to his chest and his body had curled instantly in the shape of a circle. 

Pathetic, and he knew it. 

The bots should have never taken his wife away, I thought. Not out of pity for the man but out of spite. 

All the excuses the bots had given ended in proving no points, claiming that the woman was 'predicted' to have a better life without him. I wondered what they would say now if I confronted them, knowing that Harold would be a drunk beating man for the rest of his life. 

The presence from the bots still hung in the air. You could tell they had visited by the missing beer bottles from his basement. His stacks were gone and his weird collection of items had gone down with it. 

"Stay outside," I ordered Rin and he obeyed, not with the knowledge that I was going to kill this man.

What was expecting from me anyway? For him and me to have a nice chat? I don't think so. 

Not for what he did to my brother. Not for what he has had to go through. All the pain and torture. 

Rin may have had pity for him but I sure wouldn't. No excuses on how hurting a child helped him calm down. No. 

Perfect girl. Perfect girl. 

The bots must have predicted accurately. They always do, don't they? 

Perfect girl. Perfect girl.

I killed him mid-snore, plunging my knife into his heart, and then wiping my bloody hands with his kitchen towel. No predictions could have seen this coming from a mile down the road.

Perfect girl. Perfect girl. 

I didn't hide his body. Let the bots find him. Bloody knife had done a good job. I had done a good job. 

Perfect girl. Perfect girl. 

The predictions had been wrong. Wrong and now broken. Not by me but by something stronger. My illicit fate. 

How could have the bots predicted that their perfect girl killed a man?