The Master watched intently from an enormous screen mounted on the wall, his piercing blue optic swiveling from the large red button on the floor to His many little monstrosities crawling about the floor. I tried to ignore His critical gaze, putting all my strength into my hop, but as always, it never got me more than a few inches. That and it was nearly impossible to change direction. But even so, I was still alive.
A shiver ran through me, jostling some of my looser internal parts. Each of us, "the Creatures" as the phantom voice had called us over the loudspeaker, was comprised of the better part of a large cube, which served as a makeshift body, and two heads, each with control over one of the two tripod legs and each with its own personality. And that was where the real trouble was. When one personality was dormant, the other had full control, but when the other went online as well, it was a different story entirely.
It hadn't been long before my partner personality came to. It had chirped warmly to me as a greeting only to stab at my neck with its needle-like leg moments later. A wave of panic swept over me as it was buried under one of my facial plates, and I jerked my head away, only to be rewarded with a jolt of pain and a shower of sparks as it was torn free of my face. Something inside me snapped, and the next thing I knew, my leg was driven deep into the vulnerable circuitry beneath the other head's facial plates. It had let out a sputtering cry, twitching pathetically as its optic flickered and went out.
Before I could process what had happened, a strange feeling swept over me, my consciousness seeping into the vacated mechanical corpse. The second head came back online, doubling by field of vision, and I was able to will the other leg into motion. I had expelled the other entity from the shell we had shared, permanently expunging its existence.
I had won. I was the victor, but I couldn't have felt like less of one. I was a murderer.
The Master's exasperated cries brought me back to the present. "For God's sake, you're boxes! With legs." His words struck deep, sending an unpleasant buzz through my system, and I winced, trying to block them out. The disdain dripping from His voice was all too familiar.
Like countless other young children, math was a subject that had not come as easily for me as the others had, and at one point in late elementary school, there had been a series of small tests that hadn't gone so well. Grades were everything in my house, and needless to say, my dad had been absolutely livid.
"Go to the basement," he had growled after the discovery. "Now."
Trembling, I had obeyed, fearful of what was to come. He hadn't struck me since the last time I had been spanked, which to my young mind had seemed like a grateful eternity ago, but I could never be too sure. It was hard to say whether I was more afraid of his unpredictable temper or of the verbal onslaught I could guarantee was soon to come.
He led me to the laundry room, yanked the large cleaning supply carrier from one of the plastic shelves beyond my reach and thrust it at me. I took it without question and followed him back to the upstairs bathroom. He motioned for me to set it down, quickly snatching the toilet brush from its holder and shoving it into my hands.
"Clean it," he hissed, a demanding finger jabbed at the toilet.
I'd never cleaned a toilet at my young age. The momentary look of confusion I must've given him was enough to spark an outrage.
"Clean it!" His roar echoed, sending me into a fit of uncontrollable terrified sobs.
He pushed me towards the toilet. "Do you know why you're going to clean it?" he sneered. "Because you're terrible at math. Terrible. And at this rate, the only job you'll ever get, one that doesn't require math, is a janitor."
I could feel my heart being torn to bits. All my other grades were good, A's even! And I still had many years ahead of me that I could use to repair any issues I had in math.
"So start practicing!" he spat, slamming the bathroom door in my face. The room was silent, save for the sound of my heartbroken sobbing.
One of the other Creatures bumped into me, nearly knocking me over. I regained my balance just as the Master's voice boomed from the screen once more.
"It's literally your only purpose! Walking onto buttons!" I let out a small croak, the weight of His berating comments piling onto me.
Several years had passed since I had been told to polish my janitorial skills, and my math had gotten better, though it was still one of my weaker subjects. However, high school classes were now the very least of my troubles.
I got out of my friend's car and walked up the sidewalk to the house, cheerfully humming a showtune to myself. My mood couldn't have been better.
Walking into the house, I chirped a hello and went up to drop my backpack off in my room before having dinner. I sat on my bed, fishing through my bag's contents for the night's homework. I didn't notice my parents standing in the doorway.
"We got a call today," said my dad dryly.
I looked up from my tinkering, my heart racing. I had a sinking feeling in my gut that I knew exactly what he was talking about.
"Someone saw you," my mom added.
"Caught you," he corrected with a growl. I winced. "And now my reputation is on the line because of you!"
"The family's reputation!" she continued. "Your siblings' reputations!"
"And you know what they'll call you?" he snarled. "A lesbian slut."
My mouth went dry, and I braced myself on the mattress, trying desperately to maintain my poker face. Of all the cruel things he'd ever said to me, this was the crown jewel.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. The only thing I truly remembered was that crushing blow of words that spun on an endless record in my head until it became a deafening cacophony that dimmed all other thought.
Another Creature butted me from behind, urging me forward, and I got out of its way as fast as I could.
"How can you not do the one thing you're designed for?" The Master's words rang out again, their utter contempt causing me to lose control of my inherited parts.
I had felt the alarm buzz of my phone in my pocket. If I didn't hurry, I'd be late to class. I urged my aching legs to pedal faster, and the bike responded beautifully, sending a sudden rush of wind through my hair. I could do this.
Weaving between the pedestrians on the sidewalk, I saw my destination pop up over the hill. Another minute, and I'd be there, on time. Finally, the homestretch! In front of me was a dressed-up young woman walking at a painfully slow pace. Easy, I'd go around her. Coming towards me was a rather grumpy-looking man with graying hair wearing a trench coat and dragging a suitcase. No big deal. I could make this.
I rolled to the center of the path to move in front of the woman, but she sped up exactly as the man stopped dead in his tracks. I was blocked off. I squeezed the breaks, almost losing control of the bike. I managed to not hit the woman and to stay upright, but at a price: my handlebar brushed the man's hand.
I immediately came to a complete stop and turned to him, offering my sincerest apologies.
"Jesus Christ!" he yelled. "What the hell's wrong with you?"
Whatever words I had intended to speak dried up, leaving me with nothing to do but stare and take in the sting. I'd never seen this curmudgeon before, much less talked to him, but the anger in his voice resonated, shaking me to the core. I could hear my dad in every word.
It blasted its way through the emotional dam I'd put up to block the memories, and it took every ounce of strength and composure I could muster to simply not break down in the middle of that path and cry. I had to look away, so I stared down at the concrete.
"This is a sidewalk," he hissed. "Not a bike path." And with that, he was gone. The rest of the day's classes would be a nightmare. All I could do was sit there, trying to mend the dam.
The tiny metallic leg that had once belonged to the other personality gave way, and my box of a body fell on its side. My willpower was drained. I gurgled, curled my heads and legs into the malformed shell and shut down my optics. No more.