Chapter 3

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Dear Reader,

I want to tell you more about Author.

I care so much for her...

All I ever wanted to do was  make her proud of me.

It kept her happy whenever my words appeared on the screen.

She never read them...

So I changed my words to talk to you instead of her.

Past tense.

And trust me...my rough draft was...er...romantic. And way different.

I always would watch her jump up in the air and squeal and be her strange, insane, Author-self.

I loved her so much Reader.
When I wrote the last page,  she whispered.

"It's time to publish."

I cried.

And it was strange.

A computer crying makes no sound.

Nobody ever knows about the feelings of technology, nor do they care.

Just because it's not alive...doesn't mean it's emotionless.

I was given words to say.

Words to escape.

I was conscious.

I was a conscious.

And I was given a chance.

A chance with Author.

And I blew it.

I knew I was going to get my pages torn...but I never thought about the pain.

So please, Reader...don't rip my pages...

I don't want to die just yet.

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