~One~

I left my room with a pop-tart in one hand and my mp3 in the other. I stumbled down the stairs, and yawned, feeling my jaw pop.
"Zero!" my mother called from the kitchen. I limped over, my left leg creaking.
"Nope, this is a ghost. Nice to meet you." I rolled my eyes.
"Did you take out the trash from your room?" She asked me, totally ignoring my comment.
"I was supposed to do that? Oh, well then no, I did not."
"Wow. I asked you to do that five minutes ago, and you come down the stairs with a pop-tart! Seriously, you can't keep one little task in your head for more than a minute. I mean for re- You aren't even listening to me!"
I wasn't, too. I was oiling my leg joints, enjoying the song I was listening to. But I fixed her with my saddest look. "I was too!"
"Then what did I just say?" She asked, crossing her arms. I tried a different approach.
"Uh, nice shirt. Is it new?"
"I wore it last week."
"Shoot..." I muttered. "Uh..." I looked back at my leg sheepishly.
"Good Lord. Of all the children I could have given birth to, why did it have to be you?" She walked to the door, taking her keys off of the hook. "I'm off. Try not to be yourself some more, okay?"
"Thanks mom. You make me feel so good," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
"Welcome! Ciao~" She walked off, slamming the door behind her. I sighed. "What a witch..." I oiled my leg again, then patted the thick metal. I didn't like these fake limbs, despite the fact that I made them. That was my job.
Instead of going to school, I stayed at home, working on "mecha parts" for those who wanted to be able to live normally after the loss of a limb. My father created this medicine that could get rid of the years of rehab you needed in order to live with prosthetic limbs. Unfortunately for me, he used my

rehabilitation in order to figure it out. So basically, he used me as a guinea pig for his experiments. Does that seem cruel? I suppose, but back then, I thought that helping "daddy" was the best thing I could do for him. It took up most of my time, and I thought I was happy. That is, until he died last year.
I guess you could say I'm easily influenced and trust people easily, but in actuality, I'm not. I can hardly trust anyone these days. I didn't even trust my father until the day before he died. I decided that I'd wear a mask of sorts, that I'd come off as laid back and carefree. But the hard truth is, I worry too much. And I care too little. But I suppose I'm getting boring. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Zero. I'm seventeen years old and have three limbs made of metal; Both my arms and my left leg. I have sea green eyes and navy black hair. I am slightly interested in a school like experience. Seriously. Because I've never been in one.
I work in a shop for body parts made of metal. It is gross. I hate it. But I tough it out and do it anyway. After all, I needed the money. WE needed the money; Me, my little sister, and my mother.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 24.04.2012

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