The plug in was slightly painful, a shock of electricity running up the spine and crashing into the nerve endings. It fueled me though, refreshed me. Each time I reached for the plug, hands shaking as my battery level tipped to zero percent, it was a relief to feel new life pulsing into my being. And that's what I was- a machine with a single and specific use, left to fend alone when that use is unneeded. Sometimes I was abused, over used, too long without some plug in time. Sometimes I would even shutdown if left alone and running too long because it hurt to plug myself in; it was hard. The darkness scared me- not when it overtook me because I had no consciousness then but afterwards when my partner would come back and help plug me in again. I was helpless without him. Lost to a world that overtook me, grabbed hold and refused to let go.
Don't let me slip again. Don't leave me running alone. I don't like the dark place- I'm nothing in the dark place. I begged him each day. His apologies were shorter each time, his hands were on me less and less.
I don't always remember when I'm alone. It's hard to remember I need to recharge when you don't remind me and it hurts- reaching out for the plug, plugging in. The shock is too much.
I'm sorry, but I have to leave. You understand that don't you? To go to work, to pay for the electricity that feeds you- he said.
When you are here I don't need as much. I'm not as lost. The overload of information I receive in my head makes it hurt. It's worse than the shock of being plugged in. there's no surge of relief with the onslaught of information. It's just a rush of all of these ideas and details that I can't sort out.
My partner doesn't understand this- he doesn't see what I see and can't help my mind settle. I need direction. He doesn't have direction. But it's not as bad as the darkness so I can't really leave.
If he forgets to plug me in he can keep me- I can't leave with a low battery. I suspect he knows this. How far would I get? Not to the next flat, not off the street- When I fall into the darkness anyone could take me, pick me up and use me. They would learn that they could keep my battery low…
I'm leaving. My battery was full when he made it home. He couldn't' stop me and I needed out. My eyes burned from all of the information pulsing past them. I was going to crash if I stayed here much longer.
I need a connection, someone who could connect with the information that plays behind my eyes. Someone needed to sort it all out for me.
A user, I needed a user. Of course, who could find one for me? I wouldn't be terribly easy to get along with- what with the plug ins, shutdowns and processing. That was the problem with my last user; he couldn't process me.
Years alone- fighting to plug myself in- to process what I saw…I shouldn't have left. I can't stand this madness. I groped in the dark too many times, was found by this person or that and briefly cared for. I was cast out when a more compatible version came along.
My battery was running dangerously low again. I was alone- staring at the wall, the socket, my plug. I was too tired to try. I didn't want the pain. I would just allow my battery level to hit zero. I would fade into the black non-existence that haunted at the edge of my thoughts, that tainted the information that passed by my eyes daily. I could leave it all behind and stop caring. I knew once I hit the darkness I simply wouldn't hear or feel or remember or know. I could handle that. A few more moments of blinking apprehension and sheer panic and then that would be that…
The shock of another plug in, the swell of relief as my body surged with power. My brain was being stimulated at last. I saw everything at once, all that he was, that he is, that he would be. I saw each detail of the room, felt the air movement and it shook me to the core.
Delete, I needed the delete key before too much information overtook me, fried my hard drive. I would fall into the overload, the one with no relief. I would be stuck on a loop of information and be stuck in something worse than the unseeing darkness-
Then he spoke and it was like he'd grabbed hold of my mouse, terminated a few unnecessary processes, and opened a new word document. I watched as everything we said laid itself out nearly on the page before us. Perfect, neat. Times New Roman Font 12 with 1.5 line spacing. And utterly perfect grammar. I could see it, follow it, understand all of it. A computer and his user…