The full pleasure drawn from a single breath; life. Soothing music that charms the soul. Bright vibrant colours glistening on the dew-covered orchid petals in the early morning. Colours that fade into a dark abyss of the non-existent from a whisper of death.
That spider outside my bedroom window looked so real. I remember crying bitterly as the baby spiders devoured their mother with no sense of pity or grief. Surely the mother wouldn’t have done the same to her children, her creations.
What hurts me more… is the fact that it never happened. The spider, my hurt, my bedroom, my entire childhood gently stolen from me.
Deckard, a blade runner, had a brief chat with Mr. Tyrell this afternoon before conducting a peculiar test on me. I didn’t know what it was for, they refused to tell me. Mr. Tyrell usually treats me with respect, but he neglected my feelings completely this time. Subsequently, Deckard started to ask me rather strange questions. I tried to answer them as calmly as possible, but each one invoked mixed feelings of hate, melancholy and confusion. I began to grow agitated and exhausted at the same time. I felt that this test was pointless, a total waste of time. The only thing that kept me there was my respect for Mr. Tyrell.
After the fifteenth question, a look of frustration crept into Deckard’s face. It was clear that he wanted to pry into something… something hidden inside me. I felt like a pig on a weighing scale.. I wasn’t going to let him manipulate me.
I went straight to my room after that cruel and mind-provoking test. Those questions… those horrible questions plagued my mind. They were stinging arrows in my heart that had to be removed. I lay on my bed pondering over them. “What’s your mother like?” “Are you any good on the piano?” “What did your father give you on your 18th birthday?” I grabbed my photo box and searched through hundreds of photographs looking for answers. None.
I knew that my mother loved me, but I’ve never seen her. I could play the piano, but no one taught me how to. Mr. Tyrell has always been like a father to me. He has treated me so well that I never had to think of my real father. I needed answers… answers that I wished I had never found.
Betrayed by the only person I truly love and respect. I thought Mr. Tyrell genuinely cared for me. How could he have kept it from me? In anguish and frustration, I sought consolation at Deckard’s place. I showed him my childhood photos of my mother and me, hoping that he would prove that I wasn’t a…a replicant. But he rudely interrupted me while I was speaking, and condemned my existence even further without any pity or compassion, that whisper of death consumed everything within me.
It wasn’t the fact that I was a replicant. What really hurt me was the lack of sympathy. But I can’t blame them both… how could anyone love someone… something like me?
I won’t be around this time next year. Those photos aren’t real, they never happened… but I wish they did. I’m still going to hold on to them… because of the hope they brought. I don’t know where I should go from here... but I’m grateful for the time I had to see the wild flowers in the open field, to feel the warmth of an embrace, and to understand the true value of life.
Gab and Pete crashed at my house this arvo. lol! I came home from Chinese school and i recieved a phone call from Gab saying that he'll be coming down. We had some snacks and watched Meet The Fockers. Then they had to leave to pick Pete's brother and Vivian up from tuition.
The Hillsong group is driving back at the moment. I must say that i actually missed my sister. It's so quiet during dinner time nowadays that both my dad and Jerusha are away. Man, i thank God for her. She can get quite annoying sometimes, but it's good to have someone your age around you at home. haha! They'll be arriving in Melbourne at 2am tonight, and i'm thinking of staying up so that i can pick my sis up from Box Hill. =) haha! i'm such a good bro.