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Wings of a Mechanical Butterfly

Short story By: forbidden secrets
Other


Androids are proved to be insignificant to humans for the most part besides being a means of way to replace humans under the age of 22 if they are prematurely killed in the future. Ultimately a secret society now known by the name of The People Replacement Program or The PRP have engineered one robot called Eliria (Engineered life intended replacement intelligence anthropoid) to take the place of a young recently deceased youth named Verena. Eliria is the exact replica of Verena. Only Verena’s parents are supposed to know of this change and if anyone else ever found out it would be catastrophic. Will Eliria be able to lead the existence of someone else when she knows she was destined for more?


Submitted:Dec 28, 2012    Reads: 19    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   


The beginning of an end

My existence revolves around one single factor, not one of being happily brought into the world, no, instead my existence rides on the purpose of being here due the fact that someone else is not. A dreamless mind sent to a place where none have woken up from, death's uneasy bed. The initial inspiration for my being, one who I have unwillingly become, one who's life I am about to lead. The butterfly's life, to start with nothing but ugliness, a thing unwanted only to have eyes glanced upon as passing, only to undergo metamorphosis and revealed to all as enticing. Thus the transformation I have almost completed yet completion shall never be a true option, for the face which I wear now is not my own, nor shall it ever be.

An untimely flame ignited by the desire of others, plagued with ideas within their firm grasp. Swirling around their heads theses ideas went, for their goal was to recreate a girl who had once been named Verena, a girl whose name is spoken yet is not heard. The very being of my existence is owed to her, for a blessing along with a curse has come with her passing. But soon I shall be freed, an entity no longer

I am enclosed in a room with walls the sickly color of yellow with an unidentified man. Helpless eyes scrutinize the figure in front of me, looming in the darkness picking away tools needed for the disassembling process. A symphony of trailing whispers fall one by one into a line as the words flood from his mouth, each one an inaudible blurb. Thus the shadows devour the last of the sunlight's rays chasing away the sunlight into oblivion. Tomorrow's old toxins are washed away with a new presence binding yesterday and today together, blurring the clear lines of reality. I wait as absolution comes to greet me.

A/N: I orginally planned this to be a novel but I don't know if I can force myself to write one so for now it shall remain a short story with an idea I've been longing to work with.





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