Creation
I’ve always had a wild imagination. Dreams of what might have been, and what still might be. I’ve had my fair share of my alternate realities. It’s hard keeping them inside sometimes, so I’ve decided to start writing them.
A red brick wall. I spent forever trying to figure out what it was. It would flash in front of my eyes, blocking everything out for a second then disappear just as suddenly. After a while it morphed into a pair of red eyes. Anime style, centred in creamy skin. Staring at me, square in the eye. So I stared back. And then I got it - I was seeing my own self. I was seeing everything I could ever be.
Now I’m sitting on top of a building. A skyscraper, in the centre of Neo-Tokyo, but I could see all the stars. I must have gotten there by flying or something, because there’s no stairs. It doesn’t matter though, because I never care about coming down, I’m sitting on top of it for no reason. Well not totally for no reason - I’m pouring a beer down the side. Just watching it all pour out. No reason to be doing it, I just… am. Clear night, a bit on the chilly side, the wind’s whipping me and my eyes are stinging, but I’m happy. Next second, you’re beside me and we’re both pouring beer off the side of the building and laughing. I can see that you’re happy.
My computer is voice-responsive, completely customised. It has a black case, and there are blue neon cables lighting my room. It’s a very techno atmosphere. Electronic dance music is being pumped out by my speakers, which are actually on the ceiling. The acoustics are better like that. I know that I hooked everything up myself, I can feel it. It’s like a sanctuary to me. Anybody else would get a headache from the ceaseless humming and glowing, but it makes me feel sane and comfortable. I have excellent hacking skills too. I can find anything I want. I’ve been looking for information for you for the past three weeks. I have a feeling I’m going to see you some time soon. I want to show you that I’m not scared and I understand who you are. My fingers fly across the keyboard. The keys are black, and my eyes follow the blue glowing of the screen as the cursor travels at incomprehensible speeds.
You’re working. I see you first. We glare at each other. I’m with my friends. I walk over and separate myself from the group. I pull the file out of my black satchel bag. A manila folder, stuffed with papers. Everything you need to know. I give it to you, give you a sharp look and go back to my group, silent as ever. I feel your eyes on me still, and think of the power I’ve just given you. A dozen lives now rest in your hands.