Fiction Fragment Friday
I missed posting last week due to being in the hospital. With that in mind I wanted to come back strong this week. I took a writing prompt of telling a story in the format of a character writing in a journal. Of course being me I had to add some twists to that concept. What I ended up with is a story that while a first rough draft I do truly love. I hope you enjoy.
April 1st, 2053,
For the record I’m only doing this stupid journal because my psychiatrist has been nagging me to start one for a month now. I suppose I could have just told him I did without actually doing it, but I’m a terrible liar and I just know he would see right through me. I hate going, but it is court mandated so I don’t really have a choice. Let’s be honest I don’t have a choice in anything, and I never have.
May 3rd 2053,
Today was another day in court. There are so many things that have to be sorted out. The world just wasn’t ready for me. To have laws against something you have to first accept that that thing is possible. I think this might be a bit easier on my brothers. My psychiatrist says that I’m jealous of them. He tries to make me understand that they are in the same situation I am, but that isn’t really true. They had a sense of purpose. A reason to live that I was never given. They were here to do something, not just to exist.
May 5th, 2053,
I met more of my “family” today. A nephew, his wife, and their children were allowed visitation for the first time. They just kept staring at me not quite sure what to say. The kids ran around the room playing. I guess they probably didn’t understand any more than I did at first. My nephew though looked at me like I was wrong. I know he thinks I’m an abomination. I just don’t know if it is because of what I am, or because of who I was cloned from.
May 6th, 2053,
My nephew came back by himself today. He apologized for the way he acted. He wanted me to know that he knew I wasn’t him, but that I just looked so much like him in old pictures. There is a real struggle with identity here and not just in my head. The world over wants to know how much of a person is made up of their experiences vs their genetics. Do I have the potential of being just as bad as him? I don’t know the answer to these questions. I’m tired of the world asking what I will become when I’m still struggling to figure out who I am now. I want family but they are not really my family. They are his. My only real family is my fellow clones. Maybe it is time I start talking to them.
May 7th, 2053,
I went to the group session today for my fellow clones. I thought they had it easier, but I was so wrong. I was made to be a backup. Provide spare organs for my creator if he needed them. Most of them were made to be guards and soldiers. They were programmed with memories of training thy never actually recieved. While I see my face in them we are not actually the same after all. I was a blank slate, but they were mass produced copies with all the same memories. I share a body with them, but they all share a body and mind with each other. Most of them may have been awake and functioning already when the island was raided, but they had even less choice than I did. Some of them are struggling with the guilt of having killed some of the soldiers that we now think of as our liberators. They may struggle with the same identity issues I do, but they also struggle with regret from actual actions. I had never taken an action, so I had nothing to regret. I should have listened to Dr. Patrick earlier about these sessions.
May 8th, 2053,
I met someone today. She is smart, funny, and the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. We ate lunch together in the cafeteria. I guess she doesn’t have any friends working here yet, so she sat with me. Is it cliche to say that I’ve never had anyone make me feel like this before when I’ve only been awake for about six months? I can’t wait to see her again.
May 15th, 2053,
It feels like the whole world has disappeared out from under me. This past week spending time with Miranda has been the only highlight of my short life. Of course, it was too good to be true. It turns out she is not part of the staff after all. She is another clone just like me. She was genetically manipulated to be female and modified to be exactly what he wanted. It makes me sick to my stomach to think that the person made to be the perfect woman for him is also perfect for me. What does that say about me and how much I am actually like him? Plus, she is genetically me, or at very least equivalent to a twin sister to me. How messed up does a person have to be that they think the perfect person for themself is themself? What kind of trust issues does that person have? Am I asking those questions about him or me? Is there really a difference?
May 16th, 2053,
I have been brought in to consult on my creator’s work. I don’t know what they think I can do. I was given just the basic blank template of knowledge not memories or training. I might have his intellect, but I don’t have any of the years of study and experimentation he did. I don’t have the framework to understand his work. They hope that I will see something they haven’t. That I might think like him. I don’t know if I should be offended by that or terrified that they might be right. The soldiers had their genes tweaked to be physically superior and their minds conditioned to be better at their jobs. I am a pure copy with no manipulation.
I skipped lunch today. I can’t face Miranda yet.
May 20th, 2053,
Miranda and I spoke today. She wants to try and make this work, but I just don’t think I can. She was literally made to love him. Is that influencing how she feels about me since I’m the closest thing to him in existence? Is it too creepy since she is kind of like my sibling? She has assured me that she cannot have children so that is not a factor, but mentally I cannot get over the fact that we were both cloned from the same individual.
May 25th, 2053,
It scares me how quickly I have taken to his work. I may not have the framework, but I understand it anyway. I have picked up so much in a very short time frame. I was able to crack the encryption on his journal and have started reading through his entries. Yes he journaled too. One more thing we have in common. The password was M1r@nd@. I don’t understand how I seem to know so much in the back of my head without ever having the memories.
June 1st, 2053,
I was a backup, but not just for my organs. I have gotten to the part in the journal about me. He took brain scans of himself and imprinted it on me. Unlike the others he suppressed these memories. They could only start unlocking upon his death. They have been coming back to me slowly since I started reading the journal. I feel like each day I’m becoming a little less myself and a little more him. I haven’t told anyone about this. There seems to be something in my head stopping me from doing so.
July 25th, 2053,
My ultimate failsafe was a complete success. I never should have doubted my genius. I have used my preprogrammed phrases to once again take control of my soldiers. This government facility is now mine, but I’m sure they will come for it. This will be my last entry as I am preparing my troops to move out to one of my failsafe bunkers in Iowa. With Miranda by my side, I will rebuild to my former glory and when I do they will pay for what they have done to me. Yes, they will all pay.
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