Disclaimer: I do not own The Matrix or any of it's characters, blah blah blah, yap yap yap.
This story takes place before the time of The Matrix
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My Name is Matthew Stevenson.
Or, it was.
I was born into a world that was not my own, and became a pretty successful man, until one day when everything changed…
This is my story.
I was born into an urban area, a place whose name no longer has no meaning to me, to very rich parents. I was the third child in the Stevenson family, with just as much respect as my sisters, Rachel and Alexa. I was born two years after them. I went through life absentmindedly, always thinking of what was ahead rather than what was happening at the moment. And that just happened to save my life. One night, when everyone was asleep, including me, there was a fire in our house. The smoke alarms did not go off. I had recently suffered from disturbing dreams, in which I would find myself in a strange pod among millions. What was most disturbing in these dreams was that I felt that they were not dreams, that they were as real as the world that I lived in each and every day. I had that dream again, only this time, I reached behind me and pulled at a plug behind my back. The pain was so intense that I screamed out loud, hoping to wake up. And I did. In a mental hospital, seven miles away.