Nate wonders about his existence.
|Word Count 563
My name is Nate
I'm not sure if these are my own thoughts, if I can have my own thoughts, or if they are simply what my creator wants me to think. I'm not sure as I am simply a figment of someone's imagination.
So, as I see it, I would like to tell you a little bit about myself. I live in an American home, a basic two story town house. I wear the exact same clothes every day and I don't deviate from my routine much. I don't have needs like real people. I don't have to eat, or sleep, or use the restroom. I guess it's because I don't really exist, only in the mind of my creator.
I don't know who he or she is, all I know is that once they put a pencil to paper I come to life. Odd I know, no one else around me seems to notice. Can they think like me? Probably not. I'm not sure what there is to say about myself other then my name is Nate and I live in a made up world full of talking animals and shrubs. Yes, shrubs. Someone must have felt really creative one night.
They usually vary in color, the shrubs. One day I went outside and one was purple! That made me quite confused about my role in this life. My routine consists of making breakfast for my cat, Fred, then going to work at a farm. It's not my farm, it's a lovely woman's farm who doesn't know much about it at all. Then, after work, I go home and play with Fred and some times see my neighbor. Susan, my neighbor, doesn't seem to understand that she is alive. Maybe she's not like me. Maybe she can't think. It gets all confusing to me. Sometimes I wonder if I'm supposed to be able to think like I do.
The creator seems to be upset with what I am doing at times (although he is the one that makes me do it!) because he destroys my hand with a small pink ball. It hurts! Sometimes the ball destroys my face! I can't see or hear or even think sometimes. I try not to think about things, I don't think I'm supposed to. When the creator leaves I try to talk to the shrubs, ask them questions, but they don't move.
I like to walk in my rectangle world, I find that I can't leave so I try to make the best of it. I like to create things myself. Sometimes in my world I find pencils and I can draw pictures. That's when I'm happy the most. Maybe the creator is happy when he creates me. Sometimes I wish he wouldn't come back so I can live with out fear. It's scary, not knowing what is going to happen to you, and when. It's hard to live like that.
There is not much more about me to be said, not much more I really know about myself. Perhaps one day there will be answers to my own questions about my existence. As of this moment all I know is that my name is Nate, I wear the same thing every day (a pair of overalls over top a white and red striped shirt with brown shoes), and I don't think I'm supposed to know I exist.