I believe They came to me, in the dead of night, and turned me into a robot. Not immediately, but in intermittence. I am not even sure who 'They' are; no one is, not really.
First, They took my bones and replaced them with bionic, silicone based material. Next, they extracted my veins and attached a convoluted network of wires in their place. I could feel their rigid circuitry beneath my skin, alien and disconcerting. Then, They harvested my organs, one by one, and left complex machineries inside the empty cavities to support what little human life there is that remains, if there is any.
I could feel my self mutating, day by day, metamorphosing into something artificial, into some grotesque android changeling. I am scared to wake up someday to discover that I am no longer me, my memories eradicated, my consciousness digitalized. Are my thoughts still even mine, or are they a mere program, a bio-digital illusion mimicking my thought pattern? Feels like it. I had to do something.
I told my parents about this and they looked concerned. They told me to wait in my room while they discussed a few things. I could hear their muffled argument through the walls. Has my hearing improved? I believe it did. My senses feel more acute somehow. They have done a thorough job. I need to do something fast.
I sneaked out of the room and went to the kitchen. My dad was talking to someone on the phone from the parlor; must be the family doctor. They didn't notice me. I looked through the drawers silently until I found what I was looking for.
They must have called for me, my parents, but I was too absorbed to notice. Only when I heard my father's shrieks did I stop. I turned towards him and saw him rigid by the door, a look of horror and unhindered disgust spreading through his face. Good. Maybe now that he sees what They have done to me, he will believe me.
"Dad, quick, help me! We need to get these things out of me."
I resumed what I was doing and began hacking at and pulling my artificial guts out. Fluid crimson flowed out of me in torrents, forming a thick pool around me. This can't be blood. It must be a special fuel they use, or some mechanical lubricant. I have to remove everything they put in me lest I turn into a robot. I can't turn into a robot. Please, no. I want to remain a real boy.
First, They took my bones and replaced them with bionic, silicone based material. Next, they extracted my veins and attached a convoluted network of wires in their place. I could feel their rigid circuitry beneath my skin, alien and disconcerting. Then, They harvested my organs, one by one, and left complex machineries inside the empty cavities to support what little human life there is that remains, if there is any.
I could feel my self mutating, day by day, metamorphosing into something artificial, into some grotesque android changeling. I am scared to wake up someday to discover that I am no longer me, my memories eradicated, my consciousness digitalized. Are my thoughts still even mine, or are they a mere program, a bio-digital illusion mimicking my thought pattern? Feels like it. I had to do something.
I told my parents about this and they looked concerned. They told me to wait in my room while they discussed a few things. I could hear their muffled argument through the walls. Has my hearing improved? I believe it did. My senses feel more acute somehow. They have done a thorough job. I need to do something fast.
I sneaked out of the room and went to the kitchen. My dad was talking to someone on the phone from the parlor; must be the family doctor. They didn't notice me. I looked through the drawers silently until I found what I was looking for.
They must have called for me, my parents, but I was too absorbed to notice. Only when I heard my father's shrieks did I stop. I turned towards him and saw him rigid by the door, a look of horror and unhindered disgust spreading through his face. Good. Maybe now that he sees what They have done to me, he will believe me.
"Dad, quick, help me! We need to get these things out of me."
I resumed what I was doing and began hacking at and pulling my artificial guts out. Fluid crimson flowed out of me in torrents, forming a thick pool around me. This can't be blood. It must be a special fuel they use, or some mechanical lubricant. I have to remove everything they put in me lest I turn into a robot. I can't turn into a robot. Please, no. I want to remain a real boy.
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