A Glitch in Perfection

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They used to say I glowed.

   I was a light among the sullied race of mankind. People came to me for guidance and purity.
   Sinners claimed I was merely a fraud, a machine, but the scholars knew otherwise. Of course, of course, my origins were rooted ordinary parents and programming, but the results were different. The scientists made something out of nothing. They made me perfect.
   Even as a child, I never made a wrong choice. As a fetus, a miraculous little chip of technology was implanted in my brain. I felt the buzz in my ear before any decision. At those moments, time would stop, and I was given my options. The good one, the pure, heavenly one would shine into my eyes, and I would pick it without hesitation. Happiness would invigorate my young veins. The world would start to move once more, and the people would see my greatness.
   I was renowned by all. All peoples, young and old, rich and poor. I symbolized the beginning of wholeness in humans. I represented the hope that our generations to come would no longer be mortal. We would be gods, angels at the least.
   At the very very least, I was an angel.

   One morning, I awoke to my alarm clock. Already knowing to calm my nerves before I was given a Decision, I stopped its beeping abruptly with a light tap to it's sensitive surface.
   I actually had not opened my eyes just yet, but when I did, something peculiar happened. Everything around me froze and greyed, as if I was about to Decide. However, there was no vibration in my ear, and I was shown no Choices.
   As soon as the universe had stopped, it was set back in motion, leaving me quite clueless. It was as if my life had gone through a... glitch.
   Knowing that the whisper in my mind would already tell me that worries were fickle, I shrugged the incident off, and set myself to work on my outfit and makeup for the day.
   I didn't go to school, obviously. I have never been burdened with work from the common classroom. Instead, I met up with government and international leaders, helping them make the world a better place. Rumors say that one day, once I graduate from my teens, I would rule the world, and everything would be perfect.
   But as of today, I still lived with my beloved parents.
   Once I deemed myself ready, I ran lightly down the steps of my mansion to breakfast. I sat down to a steaming bowl of oatmeal. For some reason, I believed that today's meal was quite anticlimactic.
   "Mom!" I called, not touching my food.
   "Yes, my angel?" My ever so kind, ever so loving mother walked quickly into my field of vision.
   I c***ed my head to the sickening, pasty bowl of oatmeal.
   "You know I don't like oatmeal. Could you tell the cook to find something a bit sweeter?"
   My mother nodded briskly.
   "Of course, Angelina. My pleasure."
  
   It was in the late morning hours when I set out on a planned luncheon with my one normal friend, Abigail. I relaxed against the velvet seat of my floating limousine until my personal driver pulled up in front of a five-star coffee house. As I gingerly stepped out of the hovering car, two massive bodyguards followed suit from  the back seats.
   People turned surprised faces to me as I trotted indoors, and I waved and blew cheerful kisses to their weary faces. I hadn't even had time to look around the store when Abigail ran up to me, and embraced my tightly.
   She stepped back after a second, and looked up at me briefly.
   "You look different, Jelly." Jelly was her nickname for me. I suppose she felt uncomfortable calling me Angelina; a name that meant power and importance. "Did you get your hair cut?"
   "No," I said, wondering what she could possibly be talking about. "Nothing at all has changed since last time we met!"
   Abigail smiled, and then led me to our table, ignoring the rather malevolent presence of the black-clad bodyguards following as well.
   I realized that I didn't want these two around right now. Oddly uncensored thoughts ran through my mind. Why couldn't I just have a normal conversation? A normal life?
   "Hey, um, you two guards... Would you mind stationing outside the door? I would like to have a bit more privacy."
   Ordinarily, a guard would never leave me. But since I was Angelina, the wisest being on earth, they didn't hesitate.
   I had a long discussion with my friend. It was an hour later when we remembered where we were, and we ordered coffees and sandwiches.
   As I swallowed my food, I caught sight of someone.
   He was a tall, lean boy, around my age. His hair was a lovely chestnut brown, and swept in waves over his head like the untamed mane of a stallion. He had the most delightful smile, and suddenly, I was mesmerized. He was looking at me, of course, the only celebrity in the room. Everyone else was staring as well.
   It took me a second or two to come back to reality. I was utterly confused with myself. I had seen plenty of nice boys throughout my teenage life, and even found one I liked. Yes, I had a boyfriend.
   But for some reason, this random boy at a café had captured a different kind of attention.
   I whirled back around to face my friend, who was looking at me intently whilst messing with the buttons on her high-tech plate.
   "I swear something is different with you today. Is... something wrong?" she asked.
   I actually snapped at her in response.
   "Nothing is EVER wrong with me."

   From that point on, things moved in slow motion.

   I stood up, finished with my friend's nagging. As I shoved in my chair, someone else in the room stood up.
   It was the boy I had noticed.
   He pulled a handheld pistol from his back pocket.
   Deadly, dark, serious.
   Citizens ran, screamed, escaped. They all moved together as me and my friend stood, unable to even twitch.
   Abigail, turned to me, not only afraid for her life, but distressed.
   "I know what it is!" Abigail whispered, her breath coming in trembling gasps. "You aren't glowing!"
   I failed. I knew it. The very few hours I had lived today replayed through my head. The glitch. The scientists had failed. Humans had failed.
   The boy with the chestnut-brown hair yelled on the top of his lungs, and aimed his weapon of destruction at my broken, evil self.

   My bodyguards burst through the automatic glass doors, but it was too late.






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