Code # Broken

Chapter 2

Number 01000010 01000111 00100011 00110000 00110000 01000110 00110011 00110111 01000100 has been activated - Preparing divertissement... Character complete; simulating now.

"7:30. Wake up. Leave residence. Stand at corner on sidewalk. Begin loop: Step forward. Turn right. Pause. Repeat from 8:00 A.M. to 9:00 A.M. When approached, stop and observe. When spoken to, respond tersely."

I was coded to be quiet and brooding. Yet another background character.

"9:00 A.M. Walk to square. 9:30 A.M. Arrive at café. Order mostly sweets. When finished, observe crowd."

You can understand how monotonous such a simple code would seem after a while.

"10:30 A.M. Leave café. Walk into square. Sit at fountain and observe crowd. 5:00 P.M. Proceed to place of residence. 5:30 P.M. Arrive at place of residence."

This, however, was where my code ended. I always thought it was silly that there was no instruction after that. I suppose you could say that at 5:30, I was left to my own devices. Within the constraints of my house, that is.

I don't mean to be stereotypical to my coded character, but in my "free" time I usually read or watched others go about their routine out the window. I practiced combat skills with my custom staff. I studied psychology and coding. I did my best to expand the natural limits of my digitalized mind.

But enough about me. Less character, more background.

I was sitting in the café as always, poking at the rubbery frosting of the strawberry cake sitting on the counter in front of me. I glanced up at the emotionless, dead eyes of the café worker as if expecting her to say something unusual or thought-provoking.

Instead, I got the usual. "How is your day going, kiddo?"

I sighed and stared back down at my plate. "Never been better."

I wanted to get up, to leave early, to dip my hair into the fountain and to count the coins that have been thrown in by other meaningless placeholders such as I. I longed to move on, but yet I was stuck in this place with a plate full of plastic.

I looked up at the clock. Still 9:45.

I took the fork in my hands and prodded the pink mush. I would have to eat it sometime or other, or I would be breaking the routine. But to be honest, sugary food makes me sick. I have to order it because it's in my code, but you wouldn't believe how much I'd enjoy a couple slices of honest-to-God cheese. The lack of a cheese-loving quality in my code is an outrage.

I listened to the passing conversations between familiar characters. If I wanted to, I could recite each and every line of stereotypical Wednesday café dialogue. "Oh, my gosh, Becky! Did you see what she was wearing?" "Oh... I thought it was kind-of a cute outfit." "Ugh, whatever. I can't believe she would go out in [insert characteristic of female main character's current outfit here]. A complete fashion abomination!"

It disgusts me how these people just stick to their code without a single out-of-line thought or question. I wouldn't be able to stand such a strict routine.

I just couldn't force myself to take a bite of the cake. It tasted the same every time because the workers are simply programmed to add the same amount of ingredients every time they make anything. I'd had each dessert item on the café menu at least once by the "beginning." I've yet to find one I remotely enjoy.

I examined my character tag, which screamed "mistake" more than ever now that a new, incomplete statistic was displayed.

Coral

Age 17

BG

Level: <?//%.;

As if I needed any more confirmation that someone like me isn't supposed to be here. It's not enough that I'm a background character; I'm a buggy, incomplete one.

Why can't there be some other way? I contemplated. Why is there no true way to break from the path I always walk?

Not to crack. Just to break, a little, just enough. To see the rest of the world, beyond my limited field of view from where I stand each day. An escape. A release. But I didn't want to be alone in it. What's the fun in being free if you have no one with whom to share your freedom with?

If I could just walk away... If I could summon the strength to just break away. But on my own, I don't even know if I could do it. Honestly, I don't know what would happen if I did. Surely the program has some backup or failsafe, right? My program could be terminated. So many things could go wrong, but...

I don't have to do it alone. Surely I'm not the only person who's ever contemplated freeing themselves. Another soul like me will break away, and with our combined strength we can truly separate from our codes.

I thought and speculated and -- dare I say -- daydreamed about the future, fiery excitement running through my very veins. I allowed myself to lose track of time in my plotting and conspiring. I let myself ignore the shackles of cardboard cake and imagine all that could be. And for a short moment, though I was sitting in the café, my spirit was unfettered; unchained for the first time, but certainly not the last.

A growing ringing in my ears startled me back to reality as the world began to blur and black out. I shut my eyes tight and opened them. All was returned to normal, however the ringing took a while to fade away and I saw that the cake had disappeared. The café worker had already taken my plate and began to clean it.

I glanced at the clock in surprise and was jerked out of my chair by my code and forced into my regular routine, heart racing. The experience was shocking and terrifying, yet oddly invigorating. It did not discourage me from wanting to crack, but only further elevated my burning hope.

I ignored the worker's cheerful "Have a nice day!" as I was pushed outside into the square, hardly bothering to fight against the childish grin threatening to show itself on my face. Someday I'll be free. It doesn't even have to be today; I can be patient. As long as I have hope, I can wait as long as I need to.

I glanced up. If I hadn't, I might have missed it, but out of the corner of my eye I saw a girl around my age step towards the center of the square, head down. I mimicked her movements, slowly making my way towards the middle despite the gravity-like pull tugging me backwards.

Soon enough, there were four others along with us, doing the same. And as if our minds were one, we all simultaneously broke into a sprint.

This is it, I told myself. I don't know why; I don't know how. But this is it.

I braced for impact.