Without even trying, the green screen appeared. Numbers appeared, they were familiar, I wanted to educate my self on my town. So, before I could count the numbers, what could be described as an old western scene, became of my surroundings. I saw no beauty, only numbers, small sequence. It hurt me inside, to have feelings, but at the same time not. I retreated to my green screen. It appeared to have rust on its lower left corner. Everything felt comfortable in this screen. The numbers made sense, there were equations, and patterns. I could be what I was meant for, a robot. While seeming to fulfill my purpose, I heard an echo, possibly what was left of my imprisoned consious, crying to come out. That's all I was any more, a prison. I left it that way, if my consious, and emotion was to weak, than leave it there.
I had discovered that even when I was in my green room, I could hear and slightly see people. When I heard someone enter, I continued with my buzzing. Every time I saw a number or letter, the cranking, and whirling of my machine mind became louder, and slower. And the rust became more visible.
"Sofia, your skin! It's got rips in it!" Marci was holding onto my hand. "Your cold to!" She was a good soul. But she couldn't help, no one could; not if I couldn't hear the faint echo of life left in me.
"That is normal. I'm fine go on now," I had mastered the not suspicious voice, but it wasn't my voice that spoke, it was that of a machine. Which is what I was. I heard her scamper off, and a few moments later my mother entered.
"Sofia! Oh, no Sofia. Your-" she began to cry, and soon enough everyone was in my room. Mother had turned around father and Mr. Samuel Mitths stared as they watched my shell become inmobile. I trade to move. I even tried to listen to my echo, and speak. But the rust climbed over all numbers. The echo was quiet. Mother turned around, and looked at me in horror.
"NOOO!" She screamed. Before my vision of anything dissapeared, I felt one single wet line trace down the now partially exposed metal. There was one thing I felt, anger. I was mad that I was so horrifying, and unuseful that I caused my mother tears. I was angry that I couldn't move, or speak, or bring the echo which died in its own prison, back. I was mostly angry at whoever made me, I no longer wanted to learn, or even live, I had one new mission, I wanted revenge. But I was a prison, and the only thing that was left alive, was anger and dangerous rage, trapped, forced to build up inside a mournful shell, unable to move. I do remember wondering what would happen if suddenly I could move. Then, an unwanted peace, relaxed my body. There I lay, almost glad I couldn't hurt anyone, I could only prepare myself for my rageful furry I would release on the cruel world.
