"The difference between technology and slavery is that slaves are fully aware that they are not free"
Perfection. Oh how I dwelled on the erotic idea of absolute tranquility. The dwelling I seized and the work I used, I created it. My perfect Utopia. My perfection.
I walked inside the front door, after coming back from a beautiful walk in the daylight. The daylight. The light to my darkness. My house was so cozy. It was a darkened red with a hit of white on the roof. It stood two stories tall. It has a small chimney coming out from the side. The smoke came out. Someone was inside.
When I entered I was welcomed with the smell of apple pie and cinnamon sticks. Treats. Michelangelo was singing a happy tune and he pulled the pie from the oven, brought it to his face, and took a large sniff of it. He smiled at its aroma. He looked up at me, his face lighting up. His lips were moving, gibberish. He was greeting me, welcoming me home. I said my hellos and walked into the living room. Raphael was on the couch, the sound of the television blared. I watched as my brother jumped into the air multiple times, watching the passes played in the football game he was watching. It was the same teams, same score, same game. Leonardo was on the chair, reading his newspaper to himself. The head line was scribble. Muffled, unreadable. But he sat there, content with what he was reading, even the smallest of smiles on his face. Perfect.
I walked into the dojo, smelling the incense of dragon fruit. It was so peaceful. My father, Master Splinter, was sitting in the middle, meditating. I came up to him, I sat in front of him. He opened his eyes to me, he smiled at me, warm and sequential. His care, his love, all written in that expression. One I can never forget but reminded daily. He was talking to me, he always talked to me. Although it was never understood, I knew his speech. He was telling me how amazing of a son I was. How brilliant I was to create such a master piece. He applauded me. He showed me what was true. This world I had was true. I was bright, it was enlightening. It was my world.
"Donnie!" As if cold water was splashed on me, my world was diminishing. I told him he needn't not to talk. He shouldn't talk, never talk. I raised my hands over my head, and pulled slowly till my bright, beautiful world, turned dark, turned grey, became my past.
"Donnie!" He always screamed, always my name. But it didn't matter, he was no longer real to me anymore. I stood up from my dusty desk, one that was only used to hold my true home, and set my helmet down, my only connection to home.. I grabbed my flashlight, only needed sometimes and shined it over my old, degraded world. This reality no longer existed. It was no longer needed, neither were the beings in it.
I walked down the old, dusty hallway to the door where they were. The old creaks of the door flooded my ears, making me hiss in disgust. I look inside and they looked at me. These were looks that were not in my world. These were looks of anger, of rage. Raphael was huffing, tiring himself out with all the yelling. But he can't attack me even if he wanted to. His body chained to the wall. Just like Leo. But I took care of his screams long ago. His body thinned and the stitching on his lips looked to have loosened. Michelangelo was on his side, facing away from me. His soul has finally left this installment and has escaped to something better, something more.
"Don.." That growl. No no that will never do in my simulation. I looked down at my fierce brother, oh he was angry.
"What do you want now?" I asked.
"Ya bastard! Mikey's dead because of you!" He screamed. Oh? Then he must have recently passed. That means I will have time before the body decomposes and the smell reaches my room. No need for any heavy lifting for now.
"It will be of no use for me." I said.
"Your brother is dead! And it's of no use for you!? What kind of monster are you!" He would scream, he always screamed.
"This Michelangelo was never part of my simulation-"
"Your simulation is nothing more than a damn computer game Donnie! We're your brothers! We're real! Not your damn game!" He had his reasoning, but it was nothing compared to mine. My love for the wires, the buttons and programs. With my knowledge, I created a world where I could live as something compared to normal. How could a brute like Raphael ever understand that sensitive part of my life? The Raphael in my world was nothing of this. He played his sports, he fought with the punching bag, he and Leo never bickered. It was perfect. My world in my software process was perfect. He would never understand.
"Soon, you will be nothing. Not even a memory. My family is in the other room. You and your siblings are nothing but a virus I must dispose of. Like the rat." Yes that imposter. He tried to stop me. When I took away Michelangelo's eyes, he tried to stop me. But I got to him first. I ended his spiteful tactics against my programing. So that thing lays on the floor of my bedroom in my perfect world.
I had no reason to listen to this thing anymore. He started to scream again, Leonardo just stared at me with anger, but it did not faze me. My family was waiting for me.
I turned on my computer once more, I opened my program and restarted the simulation.
I walked into the door, welcomed with the smell of apple pie and cinnamon sticks. Mikey's bright blue eyes welcoming me home. Raphael watching the game, Leonardo reading the paper; father telling me how proud he was, how grateful, how happy he was because of my actions. I had my home, I had my family. I had my perfection. Even the screams of the imposters could never change my world, my happiness. My love for technology, for my love of family, and of peace. My world, my heart, my simulation.
