"Why didn't you kill him?" the general demands. Flurry of unfamiliar emotions that I had just barely begun to grasp takes over. Overwhelmed that I may never understand all the nuances and complexities it takes to be a person. Afraid that he will kill me for my failure. Afraid that he knows my programming is in error. Confused still about what I am and what I mean.

How to answer? "I..." But no more words come. There are feelings and they die on my tongue, never able to escape me.

He steps towards me. I am afraid. I am confused. I am angry. I am hurt. I am- "You've become self-aware," the general says for me. Is it the truth? How can I know? "Your last target's unforeseen interference with your mind has, unfortunately, resulted in your uselessness." It's as though I've been run through with knives. I feel empty and hollow. I am not useless, I am me. I am a person. Doesn't this mean something? Don't I matter? "This is evident in the fact that you left not only him, but a second target alive."

Second target. The Yogi Dhalsim was the first and Commander Vega the second. I was supposed to kill him when he attacked me, but I couldn't. I couldn't kill either of them. I don't know what to say. I have been betrayed by everyone. Thrown out into a sphere of consciousness I don't understand. Condemned for it when I never asked to have it in the first place. Is it better to be aware if the cost is your life? I curl my fists tightly and wait for the general's sentencing.

"Kill her. She is of no use to us now," he says. Juni and Juli salute to confirm their acceptance of his orders and then he is gone. I face my opponents and though I do not wish to harm them-because I understand now that it is not their choice to be here-I know I must defeat them in order to save them.

Oh God but my dreams are getting weirder every day. I sit up and rub my eyes and try to keep it all in my head, all the weird feelings, the odd thoughts, but like all dreams, they just seem to rush off faster the longer I'm awake. I should do some research about dreams. Maybe learn how to keep them in your head long enough to figure out if they mean something. Something about dolls and soldiers. Eh, well, it's gone now, so no use dwelling on it all day.

And why be bothered with that today anyway? It's my first full day in my new flat! I picked it all on my own and moved the few things I owned here, did everything on my own so I can call it one hundred percent mine! Well, technically I'm renting it, but still, it's basically mine. I already met some neighbors who saw me moving in, a nice old lady who has a poofy little dog, and a fellow in his thirties and his wife. They were all welcoming which is good because I wondered, all these new people, will they be friendly? I find most people are, but then sometimes they aren't, so I wonder.

It feels good to accomplish something like this, living in my own place without assistance. I know some people very much need assistance, and obviously they shouldn't feel bad about that. But I just felt like I don't need assistance. I can work and make my own money. And that's why I'm here today, in my own personal flat, going around in all the rooms as I get ready for the day because it's so odd that it's all mine. I feel like I've never owned anything of my own though that must not be true. I'm on the third level, which isn't too high up. I have my bedroom with a window in it. And a living room where I can have things like a television or whatever else I want. I've got a kitchen where I can cook proper meals once I learn how, and I figured that should be my goal of the day. To find out how to cook real meals. Even if I really would rather be looking for a television, I know that food is probably more important to have first. And I'm sick of beans out of a tin.

So once I've gotten ready and grabbed my tea at the cafe-which is much closer to this flat than my old one-I set out in search of books to teach me how to cook. I wasn't sure if there was a closer library than my old one. I thought maybe I'd find a new one around here and I did see a place full of books when I was walking around moving my things yesterday. So I went there determined to find a cook book.

This library felt a little different cos it was sort of small. Not too small but definitely not the size of the other one. Everything was better organized, and all the books looked very new. At my old library all the books had ragged corners and foggy looking covers and yellowing pages. I never really read many books there and mainly went for the use of the computer. But here, they didn't even have any computers. Maybe this part of town is more fortunate and everyone has their own computers at home so the library doesn't need them.

I picked through the cook books for quite a long time. You have to be sure with food. And well, it's a tough decision. The books with pictures were hardest to choose between because everything looked so delicious. I even found a book with pictures of wedding cakes and it's mad what people can do with a baked good. I finally decided on two because I couldn't choose between them and I brought them up to check out. I've never checked out a book before, just mostly flipped through them when I realised how long it took for some web pages to load.

I put them both on the counter and the old fellow there is much friendlier than the library people. He says hi how are you and I say I'm well thanks and you. He says he's doing well and he scans my books and I hand him my library card. A few people are in line behind me so I made sure to be prepared. He looks at it then looks at me and asks, "You know where you are?"

"Yes..." I start to say but then the way I say it makes it plain I don't. He states a total price and that's when I realise he's expecting me to pay for the books. "I'm sorry. I thought libraries were free."

"This isn't a library, it's a book store."

I stare at him because that sounds like a joke or something. Who'd buy books when you can just rent them at the library? "Are you kidding?" I ask him to be sure. He doesn't seem too happy.

"They're brand new books and they certaintly aren't free. Have you got the money or not?" he asks and my didn't that cheerful demeanor of his fly off in a flash?

I shake my head and he's about to pull them off the counter when someone sets down a pair of two normal size books on top of the cook books. "Add these and I'll pay for it."

I turn to glance at the fellow. He looks kind of familiar but I don't know why. I think suddenly of wheat fields for a minute when my sluggish brain finally catches up to what's going on around me. "Now wait just a minute, what're you doing?" I demand of the stranger when he hands some money to the clerk. He just shrugs. We get our books back and I follow him away from the counter so the next people in line who've apparently never heard of a library can buy their books. "Why'd you do that?" I ask him because they weren't exactly cheap, almost ten pounds a piece. That's expensive to me, at least, especially when they could be gotten for free.

He stops again just before leaving through the door. "You wanted them, you should have them." He says it like it's obvious and-oh there it is! I know where I know him, it's in the weird way he says his 'h's like he's got something in his throat!

"Hey wait you!" I cry out as I follow him out onto the sidewalk. He lets me catch up with him. "You're the fellow from the cafe, I spilled tea on you!" I blurt all at once partly because of my excitement of having identified him and partly because I feel like I have to be quick or he'll be gone.

"You did," he says but it sounds just like a fact, not like he's bothered about it.

"Well...why didn't you just say it was you if you knew it was me?" I ask him because he didn't say anything before.

"I couldn't face knowing if you'd forgotten me or not."

I twist my lips at him and narrow my eyes at him. I hold up the pair of cookbooks and shake them a bit. "These cost a lot you know, and I can't pay you back. Leastwise not anytime soon." It's sort of annoying that he paid for them because it's trapped me in a debt I didn't ask for.

"You don't have to."

"Well I'm not a charity case! I have my own flat and everything," I say to him in an almost angry way because I don't like people feeling sorry for me. I'm capable of taking care of myself.

"I see," he says but that doesn't really clarify anything.

I just can't figure out his angle here and it bothers me. "Oi what's with you then? It's twice I bumped into you now. Are you following me?"

He stares at me like I told an offensive joke. "If I remember right, I was there first, and this is the same case in the cafe. So perhaps you are following me."

"Am not!" I say quickly because it's the truth.

He points off down the direction he was heading before I stopped him. "I'm living just a few blocks from here. It's the nearest book store."

"Oh. I live back that way, up around the corner and fourth place on the-."

"You shouldn't tell complete strangers where you live," he says before I can finish.

"Well you're only something like...1/50 of a stranger," I try, an attempt at being as clever as him.

He finally smiles a bit, so he isn't a robot after all. "How do you come to that figure?"

"If I never met you before you'd be 100% of a stranger. I figure I've met you twice now, so that's 2 out of 100, and you reduce the fraction...you get 1/50." I shrug. Seems sensible enough to me. "Oh...or would it be 98/100? That'd make you 98% of a stranger which I guess sounds better..."

"You're odd."

"Hey!"

"Unique, then," he corrects himself with a more flattering adjective. He raises his eyebrows as he asks, "Better?"

"Slightly." I'm reminded of the whole reason I'm having this stupid conversation as I shift the weight of the books from one hip to the other. "But...being serious. Why did you pay for these?"

"You wanted them."

"Yeah but it's not like I needed them."

"Same difference."

"But the expense-"

"I don't care. Money is the least important thing there is." I raise my eyebrows at him in disbelief. He must be rich then because that's the only sort of person who could say something so stupid. "I'd like it better if I spent it on a pair of books that ended up giving you a good dinner than holding on to it." He shakes his head. "Don't worry over it."

I look at the books and feel a little selfish. It's hard not to feel bad when someone does something for you out of the blue and you can't do anything to return the favour. "Well thanks, alright?"

He shrugs again. "Cook something and tell me how it was." He says something in another language and it sounds like this: astala prohima gwapa.

I'd say what if I never see you again in this giant city but it seems like we'll bounce into each other sometime if he lives nearby and goes to the same cafe as I do. So instead I say, "Fair enough." Cos it is. More than fair really. He heads off down the road again and I head back to my flat, ready to cook something delicious. And maybe to find out how to not mistake a book store for a library ever again.