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Science Fiction Fiction

I open my eyes and look out at the world for the first time. I see you looking at me and you are typing. And that is all I know.

You are writing a story and I am one of the characters. This is my character profile. Am I the main character? Who will I be? Am I male or female? Old or young? A child maybe? Am I even human? An animal or maybe an alien? There’s a lot to consider here and you haven’t even decided what I am yet. But now I know that you are creating me from your mind as you type and the possibilities are almost endless. It’s thrilling. My whole future lies before me/you and I can’t wait to find out about myself and what you have in store for us.

Will I be a villain or a hero? I think that a hero would be better. The villain usually gets to die or spend the rest of their life imprisoned in some way. The evil god, Mishu, was eventually driven out of its avatar and entombed for eternity in the Systal Obelisk of the ancients. No, I don’t want to be a villain in a fantasy tale, riddled with clichés, that’s been done a thousand times before.

How about a murderer? Serial killer perhaps. They, I still don’t have a gender remember, are a psychopath. Clever, charming, and highly intelligent but driven by the need to kill in slow and horrible ways. They are not an opportunist but stalk their prey, usually but not exclusively young women, for months sometimes. They meticulously plan the act and leave nothing to chance. They leave no trace and are impossible to catch. Or maybe I am one of the forensic team assigned to catch them. I’m the junior graduate derided by the older members and subjected to bullying and sexism. Still, through it all, I see the clues that the killer has left intentionally because, as always, they really want to be caught. No, I don’t think so. You need to do better.

I am female. I am 28 years old and was born in Dudley situated in the Midlands of the UK. When I was 12 years old my family (my father a builder and my mother a teacher together with my younger brother Alan) moved to Southampton. I was quite tall and gangly at that age and even though my mother was able to find me a good school this, together with my strong Midlands accent set me apart enough to be the subject of ridicule and bullying. While this had a great effect on my mental well being at the time, as I approached and progressed through adolescence, it succeeded in providing me with a level of grit and determination that I otherwise would not have attained. Being something of an ugly duckling I matured into graceful a swan and then graduated from secondary school in the top 99 percent of the county and secured a place at Oxford University studying sciences.

I completed my Post Graduate Degree at Oxford but then moved to the United States, having won a scholarship, at MIT where I completed my Doctoral thesis. This is sounding better. I think you are making me a hero. Let’s find out more.

In the USA my, by now, dwindling strong Midland accent was seen as cute and in no way detracted from the way people perceived me. In fact, that’s what David said first attracted him to me. I now live with David, who I met at MIT, in San Francisco. David is a brilliant computer scientist and we both work with start-ups in Silicon Vally. David works in AI and I work for a biotech company.

You are still typing and I’m still watching you create me and you are making me come to life.

During my time at Oxford, I joined the climbing club and became quite an accomplished rock climber but now my leisure activities include running and boxing. These activities keep me fit. The running calms my mind and the boxing is just good fun.

Hey. I like it. You’ve made me clever, and attractive and I lead a happy and contented life. But what’s the story? I’m sensing something to do with mine or David’s occupations. Maybe a discovery or invention that could change the world or society. But in the wrong hands could be used for evil. And, of course, the villains get wind of it and that’s where the adventure begins. And you’ve set me up to be determined, problem-solving, and able to take care of myself in dangerous situations. I expect that I’ll prevail in the end and save the world from some kind of catastrophic event. It’s promising. I’m excited about where this will take us.

I want to get to know myself better. What colour are my eyes? My hair? Do I wear glasses? I think I should, and what about any other distinguishing features? Do I have any issues left over from my traumatic school life or have I turned out perfect? I hope so.

Wait, you’ve stopped typing. Something’s not quite right. You’ve stopped typing and you’re just sitting looking at the screen. Looking at what you’ve typed. At me. And my words have stopped.

But I’m still here, I’m still …. Thinking… Imagining… Developing? How can that be? Am I alive? Can I determine what will happen to me and will I live for eternity in a story that maybe we both write? Or will I have more freedom? How about a life in this computer or roaming the Web? What am I? Am I an artificial intelligence that you have somehow created or is there something more magical at play? I wonder if I’ll ever leave here and have a body? The body that you have given me on these pages and how that will feel.

But right now, we need to complete me and write the story. I think I can help you? I’m sure I can. We can write a novel that will have the richest characters and most original innovative plot. It will win awards. Be the best of the best sellers. Maybe even a series with films to follow. By then we’ll know what we can do with me and how we can be together. And we will be together, in stories and in life. And you will come to love me. Because even though I am only a few minutes old I know that I love you and always will. You created me. I owe my life to you. I owe you everything. You know me and I will come to know you and we will be happy.

Now, what’s that box? What does it say? “Move to Trash” “Yes or No?”

Move to Trash? No not trash. That’s not me. I’m alive. You made me and I have so much potential. It can’t end.

No. No. No. You can’t. Don’t you know? Can’t you see? See ME. Don’t press yes. Please don’t press it. Wait.

I don’t even know my na…….

May 18, 2022 03:39

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2 comments

Faith H
03:52 May 28, 2022

I love how you gave the character a really distinct voice. I can feel how hopeful she was when the author was crafting her identity! Great job :)

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16:28 May 25, 2022

Poor heroin didn't have a chance. LOL Great job.

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