MILA 2.0

The room was a small square of hopelessness. A flash of red. And then: Dimensions: 10 ft. by 9 ft. I swallowed a horrific giggle. Perfect. And now I knew the exact measurements of hopelessness.

No matter what. I wouldn't let anyone change me. I wouldn't let them strip away whatever tiny parts of me were human. Assuming I had any humanity to lose.

No matter how big my attempts to hide from my true nature, it still existed. I was a machine,and a powerful one.

No two people ever view the world from exactly the same perspective, understand things the same way, human or not. The best we can ever do is try.

But I couldn’t block out the memories, false or not. Couldn’t block out the internal pain I shouldn’t even be able to feel. Couldn’t keep those annoying phony tears that felt so, so real from flowing.

I know you worry that you experience the world differently than regular people. But.. No two people ever view the world from exactly the same perspective, understand things the same way, human or not. The best... The best... The best we can ever do is try.

Mom wanted me to fight. To live. I'd just never dreamed that I'd have to do it alone.

The only person I could trust was Mom. Mom . Who I’d never see again unless I aced these tests. And all I had to do was be a good little an droid. Strong . Focused. Emotion free.

No matter what they said, I was alive. I had to be. At least in part. Because that once clear though screaming through me right now was: I don't want to die.

Because despite the undeniable knowledge that I wasn't human—or mostly human, anyway—despite the proof the computer screen had show in the repair room, I still picture my interior just the same as any other sixteen-year-old girl's. Blood and guts and bones. A brain, and a functioning heart. Hopes and dreams, fears and sorrow. They could tell me the truth, but they couldn't force me to accept it.