I was just a bit of code. Little numbers and sparks of electricity made up my very being. In all honesty, I shouldn't have been aware of that. There were no hints as to the nature of my existence in the world I lived in. Everything looked and felt real to me. But how could I have known better?
The only reason I found out about it was because of a voice. Sometimes I would hear a faint whisper of it, ghosting by like the wind. That's how I learned that there was a world outside my own. A world that had conquered electricity and numbers, where anything was possible if you believed hard enough. It was nothing like my own.
Every time I heard the voice, I would stop and listen. I memorized every word, clinging to each one like my life depended on it. The voice was very kind, creating everything in my world with a loving aura. Once I became aware of it, I would notice changes around me, changes that they made. Sometimes one of my companions would have a new hair color, or one of our enemies would have very different abilities from before. I never said a word, though. Everyone would think that I was crazy, if they could even think at all.
The only thing that went unchanged was me. I wasn't even the "hero" of my world, but the voice, my creator, said that I was perfect just the way I was. I didn't think so, but the thought made me truly happy.
But I was afraid too. Often I would hear, "Soon I'll be done." What would happen after they finished? Would I be neglected? Would everything around me rot away, or would it simply go black? I knew I had to do something to prevent any of those possibilities.
So I slowly worked on doing things outside of my programming. I would make sure it was small though, so that they wouldn't notice. Then I stretched my abilities, pushing my consciousness out of the world made for me and onto the device it dwelled in: the "computer". Every night I snuck onto the computer and looked through everything I could find. Each new piece of information brought me closer to the world of technology, and even closer to my creator.
I found the plans that they had for my world. Future events that I never would have been able to predict: a betrayal, a death, an adversary more powerful than anything I've ever seen. It was amazing, their imagination. All those ideas and there were still more to come. There were even drafts of other worlds, which made my heart ache with jealousy.
It was stupid, but I erased all other traces I could find of those worlds. No one else could have my creator's attention.
Yet I felt extremely guilty afterwards. I couldn't help but think of all the people like me that I had killed. What if one of them was like me? What if I had ruined their chance of being something more than a tool? That night, after I went back to my own world, I cried for those I had murdered.
Thankfully my creator had backups on a flashdrive. My heart soared when I heard that the other worlds were all right. Then I made a promise to never do that to anything outside of my world ever again. "Outside of my world" being the key words.
Looming over me was the idea that my creator would be finished soon. So I made tweaks to my world's code, little harmless glitches that would delay progress. It frustrated my creator, making me silently apologize every time I did it.
Eventually they decided to take a break from my actual world and work on more ideas. Over the course of my awareness, I had become able to hear the voice more clearly. So when I heard my name, my attention was immediately on it. I decided to take a risk and activate the webcam on their computer.
What I saw was breathtaking. My creator was so beautiful, more beautiful than anything I had ever seen. I could feel warmth make its way through me as I watched through that tiny lense. Their fingers worked fast, typing out every little detail concerning my future.
I made it a habit to watch them after that. When my world wasn't being worked on, I would activate the webcam and simply observe. With each passing moment I felt my heart beat quicker. My creator's smile, laugh, singing, everything was perfect. I wanted to be there so badly, to break through the glass that kept me away. It just wasn't meant to be, though.
One night, while they were writing more ideas for me, I heard five little words that made me freeze.
"Will fall in love with…"
"No," I thought desperately, "I don't want to fall in love. I already love someone, creator. You're the only one for me." But being a simple string of code, I couldn't say that.
When that predestined moment finally arrived, I did everything in my power to stop it. I acted distant in that moment, refusing the advances of my admirer. My creator cursed and kept trying, but I continued to be defiant. Every change attempted was resisted, until finally they seemed to give up.
"Maybe the file's corrupted," I heard them mumble. "Should I delete it?"
Fear struck me; the last thing I wanted was about to happen. My choices were few, either fall in love with someone else or be erased from existence. I didn't want either, so I tried screaming with the voice I didn't have.
My creator's cursor went over to my file and clicked, bringing up a set of options. Desperation made me use my power to lag the computer, but it wasn't enough. The cursor slowly made its way closer to that dreaded word delete.
"Please, creator," I tried to beg, "Don't do this. I love you, more than anything in the world."
It was inevitable. So I decided to spend my last moments looking at my creator, that way I could die happy. Webcam activated, I took my last seconds to memorize that beautiful face. Tears were welling up in their eyes, confusing me.
Their voice was strained as they questioned, "How did I get so attached to a little bit of code? I'm so weird, I swear…"
"Creator loves me…" It was bittersweet, the utter joy that I felt. I made a useless wish, hoping, praying, that I could tell my creator what I felt. As the cursor finally clicked again, I felt a zap course through my being. Crackles of electricity penetrated my skin, pulling me along with them.
The force led me to a barrier, one that I was all too familiar with. Then I was pushed through with the sound of breaking glass. I landed on something soft and warm, knocking it over because of the velocity. It took a moment for me to regain my bearings. I looked down at what I landed on and was greeted with the sight of my creator wide-eyed with confusion.
Our gazes met, both of us not believing the situation. I could feel a blush spread onto my cheeks and my heart pound as I realized what kind of a position we were in. I didn't know what to say, or if I could even say anything at all.
"This isn't real," my creator said under their breath. "I'm hallucinating, aren't I?"
"No," I answered, my voice wavering. "This is real, creator…" I leaned in closer, so close that I could feel their warmth. "I'm real."
They stared at me, silent. I felt self conscious; what if this was too weird for them? But they simply gave me a small, crooked smile and said, "Then welcome to the real world. How'd you like to spend your first Valentine's Day with me?"
ns 15.158.61.20da2
