*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1421935-Pixelated
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Emotional · #1421935
The ups and downs of life. What's real about yours?
There was once a Girl who was mostly made of pixels. Type A negative blood flowed through her pixelated fingers, through her pixelated eyes, through her brain of dying tissue and inevitable little pixels which were only there for show, a holographic shadow of her former emotions. Nothing was real for her. Nothing was felt, except the blood and the keys of the worn black keyboard under her pixelated fingertips.

Her heart labored and strained, struggling to keep the life-giving blood flowing through the millions of tiny specks which connected her to the Computer and to life. It beat quickly, sending agony through her with each pulse, but the pixelated girl couldn't move. She could only continue to type, hoping the stubborn organ would just stop soon. But it simply wouldn't. The heart refused to become as holographic as the rest of her. It refused to let her merge seamlessly to the Computer, to leave life. It was such a resilient thing, her heart. It wouldn't let her go.

A single wet tear fell from the Girl's pixelated eye, leaving a dead streak of black down her pixelated face, but still she continued to type. She felt pain. She felt detachment. She felt hurt and lonely, but if she concentrated hard enough, it would all go away. If she watched the pixelated computer screen, it would go away. She felt more pixels sneak to her mind, to the solid parts of her body which were still left, becoming a part of that beautiful Computer with the bright pixel screen. But not one was allowed to her heart. Her heart still kept beating.

Her stomach had long since faded away, she knew. It was why she couldn't eat. She didn't need to. She felt the power from the plug in the wall. It kept her typing, kept the screen glowing, kept her burdened human heart beating. She was connected at the fingertips to that machine. It was all she needed. It was all she wanted. Oh, why wouldn't her heart just stop?

There was Someone in the room now. In the cold, bare room which contained only the Girl and the Computer. Someone who wasn't full of pixels or mechanical gears. No, it was all skin and bones and blood and tissue. A full person was in the room.

The Girl's heartbeat quickened even more, and she was sure the thing would finally burst. It sent another flow of tears to her holographic eyes, sent her blood rushing so fast through the pixels in her limbs that she could no longer move. Not even her fingertips could move over the keyboard. She wanted to scream, to cry out in pain and despair, to die or to live, to move, to do something besides sit through this paralyzing agony. Oh, let it burst! Let her blood turn to pixels, let her melt to the Computer, let her do something! This was worse than death. This was Heaven, and this was Hell, and this was pulling at her from all sides and compressing her in. Her agony was too great for her to tell which.

She felt something on her heart, something different and soothing. It was Someone's hand, soft and helpful, aiding the organ in its strain, slowing it down with its soft caress. Slowly, the pain subsided, and the pixels began to disappear.

The patient hand continued to heal her, continued to repel the pixels from its flesh and hers as they jumped back into the Computer. The device grew angry, but the hand didn't care. It only soothed the Girl's heart, only took away the pain, only pulled her closer and closer to humanity. She relaxed at last, falling backwards into the Someone's careful arms, her fingertips disconnecting at last from the worn keyboard. The Computer raged, exerting a loud humming noise and shaking slightly. It tried to pull her back, tried to reconnect to her sore fingertips, but it couldn't now. The pixel girl had already taken her first gasp of the cold, filling air.

The pixels slowly disappeared, going one by one with her deep, heavy breaths. She was alive! She could think! She could feel warm arms embracing her, and she was safe at last, safe in those arms, and her almost human eyes stared up at her savior in awe and love and thanks. The human eyes stared back at her in pity and care, a smile coming to the face before her. She was so confused, but it was okay. She only wanted those eyes, that smile, those warm and protective arms.

They didn't move for a long time, and then the Someone wanted to leave, but the Girl couldn't go. She wasn't strong enough to go. Her half-real muscles could not move her. Someoone needed to leave now, though. The outside was calling. Someone couldn't stay with the Girl forever.

Suddenly, the Girl was alone.

Her breathing grew labored again, her heart painful and weak. Someone was gone, would not come back. Someone thought she'd be okay, but was wrong. So, so wrong. She felt cold now, and she screamed in pain. Her heart would fail if Someone didn't come back to slow it down from its frantic pace. She felt herself pixelating again and worked hard not to let it happen. No, she must be real now. She must endure this agony. She must work past it, because that's what humans do. Real, salty tears flowed from her eyes, covering her reddening face, falling over her neck and her changing fingers.

Everything in her was dying now. She couldn't hold any longer. She couldn't keep herself alive, no matter how she tried. Her human parts were changing again, her type A negative blood turning into malnourished pixels which caused her to gasp loudly for breath. The human she'd become couldn't live with pixels for blood. She needed the hot liquid in her veins. She needed the warm, careful arms to bring it back, life-giving blood in a pixelating body, but her Someone was gone forever. She couldn't stop from changing.

The Computer sensed her weakness, and it hummed loudly again, shaking more than ever, calling to her, but she couldn't come. She wouldn't come. She must be human. She must be real. She mustn't let it take her. But the Girl's fingers were already rising, already going against her will to touch the worn keyboard.

And suddenly, the Girl felt nothing. Every nerve in her human body turned to pixels, every drop of blood unreal, every movement no longer her own, but one of the Computer before her. In only seconds, the Girl was gone. All that was left of her was a lone and resilient heart, beating on the Computer's bright, pixelated screen.

© Copyright 2008 Graffiti (sonicstopwatch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1421935-Pixelated