Meaningless.
Without meaning.
Everything is meaningless. My life, my homework, my friends… meaningless. Myself. I am meaningless.
I feel as if something sacred and precious has been stolen from me. Ripped straight out of my body. My soul captured inside a rusty bird cage and stowed away in a dark cavern, forever solemn and… meaningless. The ultimate theft.
Why should I go to school? What's the point? I already know everything anyways. I'm just an artificial being of utmost intelligence. I couldn't get any smarter. Book smarts, that is, but the truth is I'm dumber than Sissy. Perhaps I wouldn't have been robbed if I were smarter. More adjusted to Earth. Less Naive. Less meaningless.
The biggest question I continue to ask myself is… am I really just a mere virtual being? Or… am I human?
If I weren't human… could what have happened to me… really happened? I've certainly got human anatomy. And the parts work, too. I'm not a malfunctioning robot. I've either been craft fully put together, or… they were already there in the first place. Because I'm a human.
Why should I even get out of bed in the morning? Why do I need to sleep, if I'm not human? Because I am human. Why do I need to use the restroom? Because I am human.
Why was he able to hurt me like that? Because my body is like every other human girl. Because I'm human.
A meaningless human.
My own life is meaningless. I have no mother, no father, no brothers and sisters. I have nothing. I am nothing. Meaningless.
Without meaning.
What is this emotion? I don't feel anything at all. Emotions are feelings. Can I feel something that is nothing? Is nothing an emotion?
I feel numb. The numbness is better than the pain, though. I don't feel like eating, like breathing, like talking… nothing.
"Aelita?"
I don't even feel like listening to Jeremie. Jeremie is meaningless. He only liked me when I was inside the supercomputer. Because then… I wasn't meaningless. Or was I? A pathetic damsel in distress.
"Aelita… are you in there?"
In where? I don't know where I am. Where am I? Am I even still alive? I honestly wish I wasn't. I feel as if part of me died the other night, and now all that's left is an empty shell of what I once was. My own life was stolen from me. If that's not theft, I don't know what is.
"Aelita, I need to talk to you! It's urgent!"
What could be more urgent than the fact I'm laying here on my bed, dying? Or am I already dead? You can't die, if you're already dead. Can't leave when you're already gone.
The door creaks open oh so slowly and gently. I can hear it, but I don't look. What am I even looking at? My ceiling. The ceiling has more meaning than I do.
"Aelita… what's wrong?"
I feel one miniscule drop of water squeeze out of the depths of my sorrowing eyes. It travels down my face and tickles my cheeks. My pale, ghostly cheeks. Once pink and thriving, but now cold and lifeless. I've got no color. What is pink? I don't like the color pink.
I feel a hand brush the tear away. I want to swipe at it, but I can't bring myself to move. I want to disappear. I want the pain to stop. I can feel it starting to bleed again. It's warm, yet cool at the same time. It stings. I can't even bring myself to wince at the pain. I don't want to move, to breathe, to even live. I just want to die.
But I'm already dead.
"Aelita… please… tell me what's going on."
I turn my head. I feel my own neck creaking from my sluggish movements. My gaze does not even meet his; I just stare at the perfectly etched threading of his blue turtle-neck sweater. I clear my throat as my crackled statement squeezes out of the hoarseness of my dry, swollen throat.
"I've been robbed."