“You’ve got to stop sitting in front of that box and go outside. It’s going to rot your brain. Go play with the other kids.”
Worst piece of advice ever.
Of course, it was easy for him to say, with two good legs. I suppose he thought if I just went outside and tried it, just…started running then I’d be like Forrest Gump when the brace comes off and he just runs and runs and runs. Only, it doesn’t work like that in the real world. Not for me. I have Polio. Probably thinking a vaccine ought to have taken care of that, but… Matthew Smith never got that book. Now, don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying he was a bad man, in fact for what he does; he’s quite good. But…I think some repressed urge in him, made him press upon me more.
As if, through me he could make up for not being more himself. I should have been perfect. It would have fit the mold for his life. Picture perfect CEO, he was jet set and ready, following the almighty dollar where ever it bid him go. I should have been that next addition; the one that fell perfectly into place. For a while, I was. I can see that much through pictures. Home videos. He played the doting father unparallel. And then, I got sick.
I can’t blame him for that either. He traveled a lot, it was part of his job description and the nanny was nice. I guess he like most people, simply assumed that because the world was vaccinated from diseases that people rarely hear about anymore and because I was supposed to be ‘special’ that vaccines were, well, quite probably a product of Pentex to help take over the world and prepare the population for possession. Sometimes they are, sometimes they aren’t. Clearly, that one wasn’t. And it didn’t kill me, but…it didn’t leave me untouched either.
When I survived it, but didn’t come out whole, he…changed. Stayed away more, pushed harder when he was there and cared less. I was imperfect. His contribution to society was flawed. Who’d want to thank him for damaged goods? He blamed her. I never knew her. She died six months before I was born. I did find out how she died though. There was footage of it, I found it, on a mock-up of youtube done strictly for those of the ‘other’ element, ran by a couple of cyber junkies trying to brag about Pentex.
Well, Fred found it. It’s…hard to explain. Mostly he, sometimes she. He tried to explain it once, but I didn’t exactly understand. Anyway, he’s the spirit that follows me around. I thought I was crazy, when I was younger, I kept seeing someone no one else could and the video games would talk back. I didn’t get outside much, wasn’t any point when I couldn’t run around like they could. So I did other things, television, video games, computers too; when they became something that everyone in the world could access. Turns out, I was good with them. Really good.
I can do anything.
Serious Smith, isn’t much for the real world. She’ll go for days without eating, and sometimes she forgets to brush her hair. Her skin is terribly pale because she rarely sees the sun and she can’t tell you what the weather looks like out her bedroom window, but she can rework your bank account and your criminal record with a couple of clicks. She can also fix just about anything around the house that breaks. Says machines just talk to her. Of course, actual people aren’t the same. Sometimes she stutters and forgets what she’s trying to say. Most of the time, she just hides behind those damned glasses and goes to find something to fix.
Serious is ever curious and always out for a buck; online she tends a website that’s on the ‘other’ side of things, catering to custom made fetishes and hacking if the price is right.
Entirely too curious for her own good, the girl’s intrigued by vampires without the good sense to stay away; and appears to useless to be much of a threat.
There’s more, probably, but it’s late and I can’t think of them; essentially you can approach with practically any idea and I’d probably be game for it.