I'm Broken
"Good morning!" The small girl started running to her new guest.
"Sati, no!" Seraph grabbed her.
"Seraph?" Sati asked innocently.
The Oracle walked ahead of them. She was hoping to get Smith to talk to her today. She stepped into her kitchen.
"What are you doing!?" The Oracle yelled.
The Oracle quickly got a cloth and grabbed Smith's wrist. He looked at her, as if he didn't know what was wrong. The Oracle squeezed the cloth tighter on Smith's wrist, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.
Smith opened his mouth, ready to object, but only lowered his head.
"Someone once asked me that." Smith whispered. "I think it was Brown. . . It could have been Jones. . ."
The Oracle stared at Smith, shocked. She looked down and saw the knife in his hand.
"What were you doing?" She asked.
Smith didn't answer, only allowed the Oracle to take his arm.
Smith looked up and saw Seraph holding Sati close to him. Seraphs stared at him with his sunglasses on, and look ready to shoot him. Smith turned away, he knew that was expected.
The Oracle grabbed the knife, and put it in the sink. She wetted the cloth, and put it back on Smith's cuts.
"Hold it down." She instructed Smith.
He did as he was told, with no argument.
"You can't cut yourself." The Oracle said.
"Why not?" Smith asked, speaking directly to her for the first time. "Why can't I cut myself, it is my choice."
"You shouldn't make choices that hurt yourself."
Smith looked down.
"I already have." Smith whispered.
His choices caused him to die twice already.
The Oracle stopped for a moment, and only stared at him.
Sati got out of Seraph's hold, and ran to Smith.
"Good morning." She said.
Smith only stared at her, and lowered his head.
"Sati, go get Smith some bandages." The Oracle said.
The little girl was off.
"Come on, get up." The Oracle gestured.
Smith stayed on the floor. The Oracle sighed, and grabbed his arm.
"Get up." She commanded softly.
Smith looked down, and with her help stood up. He stood straight for a moment, without any aid, but soon almost tripped, and caught himself with the counter again. The Oracle helped Smith to the table, and Seraph offered no help.
"Where are my sunglasses?" Smith asked, wanting to shield his eyes from the daylight.
No one replied.
Smith sat on the chair, and the Oracle across from him. He looked at the table, and saw a cookie bowl.
"You fixed it." Smith observed.
"What?" The Oracle asked.
"The cookie bowl." He explained.
Sati came running in with a box of white bandages.
"Here." Sati held it up to Smith.
Smith stared at her for a moment, before slowly grabbing the box, and setting it down on the table.
"Now, I'm sure you have many questions." The Oracle said.
Smith stayed silent, and stared off into space.
Yes he had many questions. Many of his life, his defeat, why he sat where he did. But those questions were irrelevant to him. Knowing the answers would serve him no purpose, the point was he was alive. And the Oracle didn't want him hurt.
"You've been sleeping on my couch for nearly a week, you know. Sati was so worried that you wouldn't wake up." The Oracle smiled.
Smith looked up slightly.
"Why am I alive? How could I be alive?" Smith asked.
The only questions he needed answers to.
The Oracle smiled.
"Well, that's a little complicated." She leaned back in her chair. "I found you Smith. In a building from the fight. I took you in, rescued you from the Mainframe. They were doing scans over and over again, checking for you. Sooner or later they would've noticed you."
Smith raised an eyebrow.
"Why did you save me?" Smith asked in an Agent's voice.
"Because I had to make a choice." The Oracle said simply.
"A choice?" Smith echoed.
"I chose to spare your life, Smith."
He never wanted to say this word again, this word just at the tips of his lips, the word that inevitably did this to him. The word that made him forget what he was, that made him scream with rage, and cower in fear.
"Why?" He asked.
"Because you hold the potential to do something great Smith. But you also have the potential to do something horrible as well." The Oracle leaned in closer to him.
"What? What will I do?"
"I don't have the answer to that." The Oracle said.
"Why not?"
"Because no one can see beyond the choices they do not understand. I have choices ahead of me."
Smith looked down, and reached for the bandages to begin putting them on.
He was going to do something great, or something horrible. Something great, something horrible. Save the world, destroy it. Take it in his hand again, and decide his fate. If he had the power to do that again, he knew his answer. But then, Smith didn't really care. He only knew he was far from that kind of strength.
"Is, Mr. Anderson. . .?" Smith trailed off.
The Oracle lowered her head.
"Yes." She said.
Smith almost smiled. He had lived, while Mr. Anderson had not. In a way he was victorious. Then he felt a horrible pain in his ribs. In a way it was Mr. Anderson who won.
"Do you know what that says Smith?" The Oracle pointed upward.
Smith looked up to see a sign above the door. Another language, but of course a former Agent knew it.
"Know thyself." Smith said.
The Oracle nodded.
"Do you?" She asked.
Smith took a moment to consider.
"Yes. . ." He whispered. "I'm broken."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He didn't count the days. He didn't want to bother. He only stared at his scabbing cuts, not helping but scratch them a little. He looked away, and tried to forget his weakness.
The Oracle stood alone, smiling on the balcony. She stared out into the busy Matrix.
"Why is it so loud?" Smith asked.
The Oracle looked over.
"What?"
"Why is it always so loud?" He repeated.
"I don't hear anything." The Oracle stepped in.
"But. . . It's so loud. . ." Smith looked up at her.
"Smith, I don't hear anything."
"But. . . They're talking. They're running, and firing guns. The Agents. . . The Mainframe is telling them to continue. People are screaming!" Smith looked up at her in horror. "No. . . I can hear them. . ."
Smith slowly lowered his head, and put his hands over his ears.
"I can hear them!" He screamed in horror.
He could smell them and hear them now.
"Why won't they stop it!?"
All he ever did was try to escape them. All he ever wanted was to stop the smells from grabbing him and choking him, and yet forcing him to breath, forcing him to live. All he ever wanted was to get away from them. That's all, even if that meant killing them. But no. . . They had to do this to him.
"I can hear them!" Smith yelled.
He pushed his ears, trying to get the noise to go away, but it was like the smells, it never did, and never would.
The Oracle walked slowly towards Smith. She patted him on the shoulder, and pitied the poor former Agent, former Virus.
"Make them go away!" Smith begged, he couldn't be cursed twice.
The Oracle sat down next to him, and grabbed his hands. She took them away from his ears so he would hear her, and hear everything else. She knew there was nothing he could do about it, and he would have to live with it. But she didn't know if he could live with two things plaguing him.
"I can't." She said, trying to get him to look at her.
"It hurts. . ." Smith lowered his head, and covered himself with his arms.
The Oracle grabbed him by the shoulders.
"I know. . . I know. . ." She tried to comfort.
But in reality she had no idea. She couldn't imagine smelling something so horrible it made him kill, something so ear shattering it made him go to his knees. She didn't know what it was like to be cursed. She didn't realize how much it hurt him knowing he was going to be like this forever. She didn't realize how tempting it was to punch her, and run out the door to try and kill them again and again. She didn't know. No one knew.
And he couldn't imagine a life without these curses. He wished he could, but it had been for too long before them. Everything was so far away now. The life he was held, the power he was had. They were gone. And something made Smith believe they weren't coming back.
He didn't know what hope was, he had never felt it before. So he didn't hope for anything better than this. He didn't hope someday things would be better. He didn't hope that one day, something would change, something would be added to the equation.
He just knew it was going to be like this from now on, and he couldn't take it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Good morning!" She said with glee, looking up at him.
He looked down at her, supporting himself by the railing on the balcony. He only stared, and looked back to the city. He had watched the fake sun rise five times now. He saw nothing more but coding.
He could still hear them, he could still smell them. But the noise had blended and dulled, he supposed he had gotten used to it, just like the smells. But they were still there.
Sati squinted her nose, and him not replying, and looked out into the balcony to try to see what he was looking at.
"What are you looking at?" She gave up searching.
Smith didn't reply. He squinted scanning the city he once owned the streets in. He looked down.
"Do you know where my sunglasses are?" He asked, finally talking to the little girl.
"No." She said quietly.
Smith sighed, and once again looked into the city.
"No one knows what it's like. To be a sad man. To be a bad man. Behind Blue Eyes." Sati half whispered, half sang.
Smith looked over at her.
"No one knows what it's like. To be hated. To be fated into telling lies." She continued.
Smith tried ignoring her, and looking to his right.
"But my dreams aren't as empty, as my conscious seems to be. I have hours. Only lonely, my love is vengeance. That's never free." She continued.
Something compels him to speak these words, and he dares not question what.
"What are you saying?" Smith looked down at her.
Sati was delighted her guest was finally speaking to her.
"It's a song. The Oracle sang me it once. She said it was about you." Sati explained.
"Me?" Smith asked.
He had to hold back continuing his sentence with, 'me, me, me.' He had to realize he was only one again. He was not a choir singing perfectly, not an army screaming. He was just himself. And he was thinking like one as well.
"Yes." Sati smiled.
Curiosity is such a flaw. He knew this, he always knew this.
"What is the rest?" Smith asked.
"No one knows what it's like. To feel these feelings like I do. And I blame you." Sati now sang with a beautiful young girl. "No one bites back as hard on their Anger. None of my pain and woe can show through. But my dreams aren't as empty as my conscience seems to be. I have hours, only lonely. My love is vengeance that's never free. When my fist clenches, crack it open before I use it and lose my cool."
She smiled at Smith. Smith looked down, and analyzed her words carefully. He didn't care about how beautiful she sounded, the talent this young girl had. He only heard the words, and realized them in himself.
"When I smile, tell me some bad news before I laugh and act like a fool. If I swallow anything evil put your finger down my throat. If I shiver, please give me a blanket keep me warm, let me wear your coat. No one knows what it's like. To be a bad man. To be a sad man."
Sati paused. Smith looked over at her, wanting her to finish. He looked over at her. She only had to make sure he had blue eyes. She had to make sure. And they were the most wonderful blue eyes she had ever seen.
"Behind Blue Eyes." She finished.
There was a long pause, as she waited patiently for her guest to respond.
Smith didn't say anything, nothing at all. He only leaned down, and put his head in his hands. He closed his blue eyes. He was a bad man. He was a sad man. He felt things like no one else would understand. He wanted vengeance. He always had made a fist. He had dreams. He was never free. And no one would understand. But he wasn't a man. He would never be a man. He was Smith, the program. The former Agent, former Virus. All he had were his blue eyes that were so wrong on an Agent.
"She says the song is about you." Sati repeated.
Smith said nothing.
"Did it hurt?" Smith asked. "When you became me?"
The child looked away.
"A little." She admitted.
"No. I mean when you were me. Did it hurt?" He asked again.
She looked up at him, and blinked, not understanding.
"I don't know." She said.
Smith looked down disappointed.
"Why are you so forgiving? I hurt you." Smith said, repeated 'why' again.
Sati smiled.
"Because everyone needs forgiveness." Sati said.
Smith opened his mouth, ready to say that, that didn't explain it to him. But he looked at her. She was only a child, she did not understand, and Smith lowered his head.
Seraph watched them closely from inside.
"It hurts." He whispered, knowing this little girl wouldn't understand. "I'm broken. I'm broken. . ."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next Chapter: I'll Be Good
"Good morning!" The small girl started running to her new guest.
"Sati, no!" Seraph grabbed her.
"Seraph?" Sati asked innocently.
The Oracle walked ahead of them. She was hoping to get Smith to talk to her today. She stepped into her kitchen.
"What are you doing!?" The Oracle yelled.
The Oracle quickly got a cloth and grabbed Smith's wrist. He looked at her, as if he didn't know what was wrong. The Oracle squeezed the cloth tighter on Smith's wrist, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.
Smith opened his mouth, ready to object, but only lowered his head.
"Someone once asked me that." Smith whispered. "I think it was Brown. . . It could have been Jones. . ."
The Oracle stared at Smith, shocked. She looked down and saw the knife in his hand.
"What were you doing?" She asked.
Smith didn't answer, only allowed the Oracle to take his arm.
Smith looked up and saw Seraph holding Sati close to him. Seraphs stared at him with his sunglasses on, and look ready to shoot him. Smith turned away, he knew that was expected.
The Oracle grabbed the knife, and put it in the sink. She wetted the cloth, and put it back on Smith's cuts.
"Hold it down." She instructed Smith.
He did as he was told, with no argument.
"You can't cut yourself." The Oracle said.
"Why not?" Smith asked, speaking directly to her for the first time. "Why can't I cut myself, it is my choice."
"You shouldn't make choices that hurt yourself."
Smith looked down.
"I already have." Smith whispered.
His choices caused him to die twice already.
The Oracle stopped for a moment, and only stared at him.
Sati got out of Seraph's hold, and ran to Smith.
"Good morning." She said.
Smith only stared at her, and lowered his head.
"Sati, go get Smith some bandages." The Oracle said.
The little girl was off.
"Come on, get up." The Oracle gestured.
Smith stayed on the floor. The Oracle sighed, and grabbed his arm.
"Get up." She commanded softly.
Smith looked down, and with her help stood up. He stood straight for a moment, without any aid, but soon almost tripped, and caught himself with the counter again. The Oracle helped Smith to the table, and Seraph offered no help.
"Where are my sunglasses?" Smith asked, wanting to shield his eyes from the daylight.
No one replied.
Smith sat on the chair, and the Oracle across from him. He looked at the table, and saw a cookie bowl.
"You fixed it." Smith observed.
"What?" The Oracle asked.
"The cookie bowl." He explained.
Sati came running in with a box of white bandages.
"Here." Sati held it up to Smith.
Smith stared at her for a moment, before slowly grabbing the box, and setting it down on the table.
"Now, I'm sure you have many questions." The Oracle said.
Smith stayed silent, and stared off into space.
Yes he had many questions. Many of his life, his defeat, why he sat where he did. But those questions were irrelevant to him. Knowing the answers would serve him no purpose, the point was he was alive. And the Oracle didn't want him hurt.
"You've been sleeping on my couch for nearly a week, you know. Sati was so worried that you wouldn't wake up." The Oracle smiled.
Smith looked up slightly.
"Why am I alive? How could I be alive?" Smith asked.
The only questions he needed answers to.
The Oracle smiled.
"Well, that's a little complicated." She leaned back in her chair. "I found you Smith. In a building from the fight. I took you in, rescued you from the Mainframe. They were doing scans over and over again, checking for you. Sooner or later they would've noticed you."
Smith raised an eyebrow.
"Why did you save me?" Smith asked in an Agent's voice.
"Because I had to make a choice." The Oracle said simply.
"A choice?" Smith echoed.
"I chose to spare your life, Smith."
He never wanted to say this word again, this word just at the tips of his lips, the word that inevitably did this to him. The word that made him forget what he was, that made him scream with rage, and cower in fear.
"Why?" He asked.
"Because you hold the potential to do something great Smith. But you also have the potential to do something horrible as well." The Oracle leaned in closer to him.
"What? What will I do?"
"I don't have the answer to that." The Oracle said.
"Why not?"
"Because no one can see beyond the choices they do not understand. I have choices ahead of me."
Smith looked down, and reached for the bandages to begin putting them on.
He was going to do something great, or something horrible. Something great, something horrible. Save the world, destroy it. Take it in his hand again, and decide his fate. If he had the power to do that again, he knew his answer. But then, Smith didn't really care. He only knew he was far from that kind of strength.
"Is, Mr. Anderson. . .?" Smith trailed off.
The Oracle lowered her head.
"Yes." She said.
Smith almost smiled. He had lived, while Mr. Anderson had not. In a way he was victorious. Then he felt a horrible pain in his ribs. In a way it was Mr. Anderson who won.
"Do you know what that says Smith?" The Oracle pointed upward.
Smith looked up to see a sign above the door. Another language, but of course a former Agent knew it.
"Know thyself." Smith said.
The Oracle nodded.
"Do you?" She asked.
Smith took a moment to consider.
"Yes. . ." He whispered. "I'm broken."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He didn't count the days. He didn't want to bother. He only stared at his scabbing cuts, not helping but scratch them a little. He looked away, and tried to forget his weakness.
The Oracle stood alone, smiling on the balcony. She stared out into the busy Matrix.
"Why is it so loud?" Smith asked.
The Oracle looked over.
"What?"
"Why is it always so loud?" He repeated.
"I don't hear anything." The Oracle stepped in.
"But. . . It's so loud. . ." Smith looked up at her.
"Smith, I don't hear anything."
"But. . . They're talking. They're running, and firing guns. The Agents. . . The Mainframe is telling them to continue. People are screaming!" Smith looked up at her in horror. "No. . . I can hear them. . ."
Smith slowly lowered his head, and put his hands over his ears.
"I can hear them!" He screamed in horror.
He could smell them and hear them now.
"Why won't they stop it!?"
All he ever did was try to escape them. All he ever wanted was to stop the smells from grabbing him and choking him, and yet forcing him to breath, forcing him to live. All he ever wanted was to get away from them. That's all, even if that meant killing them. But no. . . They had to do this to him.
"I can hear them!" Smith yelled.
He pushed his ears, trying to get the noise to go away, but it was like the smells, it never did, and never would.
The Oracle walked slowly towards Smith. She patted him on the shoulder, and pitied the poor former Agent, former Virus.
"Make them go away!" Smith begged, he couldn't be cursed twice.
The Oracle sat down next to him, and grabbed his hands. She took them away from his ears so he would hear her, and hear everything else. She knew there was nothing he could do about it, and he would have to live with it. But she didn't know if he could live with two things plaguing him.
"I can't." She said, trying to get him to look at her.
"It hurts. . ." Smith lowered his head, and covered himself with his arms.
The Oracle grabbed him by the shoulders.
"I know. . . I know. . ." She tried to comfort.
But in reality she had no idea. She couldn't imagine smelling something so horrible it made him kill, something so ear shattering it made him go to his knees. She didn't know what it was like to be cursed. She didn't realize how much it hurt him knowing he was going to be like this forever. She didn't realize how tempting it was to punch her, and run out the door to try and kill them again and again. She didn't know. No one knew.
And he couldn't imagine a life without these curses. He wished he could, but it had been for too long before them. Everything was so far away now. The life he was held, the power he was had. They were gone. And something made Smith believe they weren't coming back.
He didn't know what hope was, he had never felt it before. So he didn't hope for anything better than this. He didn't hope someday things would be better. He didn't hope that one day, something would change, something would be added to the equation.
He just knew it was going to be like this from now on, and he couldn't take it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Good morning!" She said with glee, looking up at him.
He looked down at her, supporting himself by the railing on the balcony. He only stared, and looked back to the city. He had watched the fake sun rise five times now. He saw nothing more but coding.
He could still hear them, he could still smell them. But the noise had blended and dulled, he supposed he had gotten used to it, just like the smells. But they were still there.
Sati squinted her nose, and him not replying, and looked out into the balcony to try to see what he was looking at.
"What are you looking at?" She gave up searching.
Smith didn't reply. He squinted scanning the city he once owned the streets in. He looked down.
"Do you know where my sunglasses are?" He asked, finally talking to the little girl.
"No." She said quietly.
Smith sighed, and once again looked into the city.
"No one knows what it's like. To be a sad man. To be a bad man. Behind Blue Eyes." Sati half whispered, half sang.
Smith looked over at her.
"No one knows what it's like. To be hated. To be fated into telling lies." She continued.
Smith tried ignoring her, and looking to his right.
"But my dreams aren't as empty, as my conscious seems to be. I have hours. Only lonely, my love is vengeance. That's never free." She continued.
Something compels him to speak these words, and he dares not question what.
"What are you saying?" Smith looked down at her.
Sati was delighted her guest was finally speaking to her.
"It's a song. The Oracle sang me it once. She said it was about you." Sati explained.
"Me?" Smith asked.
He had to hold back continuing his sentence with, 'me, me, me.' He had to realize he was only one again. He was not a choir singing perfectly, not an army screaming. He was just himself. And he was thinking like one as well.
"Yes." Sati smiled.
Curiosity is such a flaw. He knew this, he always knew this.
"What is the rest?" Smith asked.
"No one knows what it's like. To feel these feelings like I do. And I blame you." Sati now sang with a beautiful young girl. "No one bites back as hard on their Anger. None of my pain and woe can show through. But my dreams aren't as empty as my conscience seems to be. I have hours, only lonely. My love is vengeance that's never free. When my fist clenches, crack it open before I use it and lose my cool."
She smiled at Smith. Smith looked down, and analyzed her words carefully. He didn't care about how beautiful she sounded, the talent this young girl had. He only heard the words, and realized them in himself.
"When I smile, tell me some bad news before I laugh and act like a fool. If I swallow anything evil put your finger down my throat. If I shiver, please give me a blanket keep me warm, let me wear your coat. No one knows what it's like. To be a bad man. To be a sad man."
Sati paused. Smith looked over at her, wanting her to finish. He looked over at her. She only had to make sure he had blue eyes. She had to make sure. And they were the most wonderful blue eyes she had ever seen.
"Behind Blue Eyes." She finished.
There was a long pause, as she waited patiently for her guest to respond.
Smith didn't say anything, nothing at all. He only leaned down, and put his head in his hands. He closed his blue eyes. He was a bad man. He was a sad man. He felt things like no one else would understand. He wanted vengeance. He always had made a fist. He had dreams. He was never free. And no one would understand. But he wasn't a man. He would never be a man. He was Smith, the program. The former Agent, former Virus. All he had were his blue eyes that were so wrong on an Agent.
"She says the song is about you." Sati repeated.
Smith said nothing.
"Did it hurt?" Smith asked. "When you became me?"
The child looked away.
"A little." She admitted.
"No. I mean when you were me. Did it hurt?" He asked again.
She looked up at him, and blinked, not understanding.
"I don't know." She said.
Smith looked down disappointed.
"Why are you so forgiving? I hurt you." Smith said, repeated 'why' again.
Sati smiled.
"Because everyone needs forgiveness." Sati said.
Smith opened his mouth, ready to say that, that didn't explain it to him. But he looked at her. She was only a child, she did not understand, and Smith lowered his head.
Seraph watched them closely from inside.
"It hurts." He whispered, knowing this little girl wouldn't understand. "I'm broken. I'm broken. . ."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next Chapter: I'll Be Good