Programmed
Song: Designer Skyline by Owl City
Dylan
Programmed. That's all I am. How am I supposed to determine if my feelings (strong ones, let me assure you) are real, knowing that they told me to do that? And that every moment that I dare myself to think of a pretty face glimsped, my stomach aches painfully and my eyes sting. My heart feels like clay. Mold-able, break-able, love-able. Or is it? Am I so weird that no one could ever fill the void left by the fact that Max ignores me? I am unwated, apparently. Un cared for. Dead meat, by the sounds of it. The doctor outfitted me with everything that the old Dylan had, and he assured me that Max would fall into my arms right away. No, it isn't so, doctor. Instead I feel the sharp yet dull pain of rejection, feeling hot and cold at the same time as it slowly melts my morale and resistance. The old Dylan. Just a mortal, a 100% weak human. Killed by a car wreck, or so says the lying doctor. Maybe they...maybe they killed him. Therefore, by transfer, I would have killed another person. Worse, an innocent person. Am I to be such, my hands stained with the cold blood that the doctor owns also? He's killed more. This is the only way that can protect Max. She doesn't know that everyday, he pushed the fragile, weak, jagged mutants until they die of exhaution, then he builds another to take their place. I will never tell Maximum, or her fury might again take control of her. I've seen it happen, with Fang. Fang. Her soul mate, that much observed. Maybe as my heart is re-moldable, I can help her heal. Maybe then mine will heal, too, it's split seams mending with her every breath.
Or maybe that's just what I'm programmed to say. Truth is, I'll never know.
Will you?
A/N: It's hard living up to the reviews. Hopefully I can do it, if only for another chapter.
This chapter dedicated to ..you