Conviction
Author's Note: This is my first Matrix fic, so please be kind to me! I also want to say a huge thank you to my beta Nicene. :D
Disclaimer: I don't own The Matrix, or any of the characters included. They are the sole property of the amazing Wachowski brothers. However, I do own Fathom and Eve, so I can do whatever I want to them!
Beginning: Needing People
In apartment 611, in a sleepy tower block, a phone was ringing.
Meg rolled over in her narrow bed and groaned. She brushed her long, ebony hair out of her eyes and looked at her watch. 6:00am.
'Shit.'
The phone was still ringing. She slowly picked it up, and pressed the receiver to her ear.
'Hello?' she muttered, her voice low and harsh from sleep. A man's voice answered, one that she recognised, one that she welcomed, which was unusual. Her heart began to beat faster and she sat up straight as she began to comprehend what he was saying.
'This line is tapped, so I must be brief. Now we have managed to keep you a secret for long enough, but the enemy has found you. They know who you are, they know where you live, and your life is no longer safe. Lie low today, and meet us at midnight on Ferry Street. Fathom will be waiting for you. It is time for you to leave. Do you understand?'
'Yes…Yes I do.'
'Good. Be careful.' A click, and he was gone. But she soon would be too. Why was she so scared? After all, this is what she had been waiting for for so long. The red pill. 3 months she had waited, 3 months she had known that every single thing she did, every action, every thought, had no consequence, because she was living a lie. The Matrix. Control so powerful that even though she knew what was happening, she was powerless to stop it, powerless to leave, because she was a part of the system. The thought filled her with revulsion.
She believed she deserved to be unplugged. Sure enough, finding the answer to the question was all that had kept her going after her life had begun to fall apart. She raised her eyes and looked around the room, remembering how she had come here with her few belongings after it had happened…
Today was a bad day. 16 year old Meg knew that as soon as she walked through the door. She heard her father's voice yelling, his speech slurred from the quantity of gin he had consumed, and her mother pleading with him. She hated them both. Her father, an abusive alcoholic, and her mother, too weak to tell anyone or get help, even for her children's sake. And then there was her sister, Madison. Meg didn't know where the hell she was, but she wasn't going to help now. Madison had practically disowned her family, descending deeper into herself, and her computer. Meg knew she hacked, and didn't give a damn. It wasn't her problem and she had enough to work with at the moment.
Meg spun round, at the noise of a bullet. She ran into the kitchen and saw her mother, transfixed, staring at the gun in her father's hand as he swayed crazily. Neither of them noticed the skinny girl's presence. Her father swung the gun around, towards her mother, but then carried on swinging it, until the barrel was resting against his temple.
'James,' whispered her mother.
The noise of the shot echoed through the room. Her mother screamed, and Meg turned tail and ran, unthinking, unfeeling, like a machine. She acted on instinct, running as fast as she could, away from the house, the blood, the death.
Something was wrong with the world.
The police came and went, cause of death was identified as suicide, the funeral was over and done with. Meg passed through it all with an incredulity, feeling that it wasn't meant to happen, it wasn't happening. Madison attended some of the proceedings, but only when she absolutely had to, and even then, always with a glazed look in her icy blue eyes, like her mind was somewhere else. She didn't care anymore and Meg resolved to be like that. After all, what was the point of needing people? All that was was a weakness. She would never be hurt again. She needed no one. The thought filled her with a sense of power.
All was well with her new philosophy, provided unconsciously by her sister. Her mother struggled to keep the house running, but Meg didn't care. Her grades dropped at school, but she didn't care. Without knowing it, she drifted deeper into her own mind and became silent, watching, analysing everyone's every move, cold and unfeeling. Until the night they found it. Meg remembered so well.
She followed the police upstairs, the endless winding staircase with the stone cold floor tiles. Even without the reason she was here, the whole building had a feeling about it, almost ethereal, like it was from another world. It was so much more… Meg couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it felt as if this place put the whole rest of her life into shadow, like a dream. This place was so much more real. Her mind was occupied with these thoughts until the first policeman opened the tall double doors next to her, and she saw it. Her sister's body, as cold as the tiled floor. Her mother burst into tears. Stupid bitch, Meg thought. You never cared, you never gave a damn. Does she have to die to make you realise that? Meg took one last look at Madison's face, her straight black hair, her pale skin, so much like her own, before walking out. She was so silent, her mother never noticed until she was gone.
She went back to their house and took her belongings, in various suitcases and bags, all her savings, and one other thing. Madison's computer. Something inside her told her that this thing was connected with her sister's death, and she had to find out what. She left the house as soon as she could, knowing that she would not be able to stand living alone with her mother. Some time, she knew she would crack, and all the anger, at her mother, her life, the feeling she had that something was not quite right, would come spilling out, and that would be bad for the both of them.
So? Review please and tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is appreciated, but if you hate it please at least tell me why. Depending on the reviews I get this story may be continued or not- who knows..
