Intergalactic rebels

Estou sóbria e depois digo e escrevo que existo numa realidade diferente.

I'm sober, looking at an imaginary screen built in my head, and then I start writing about my existence in this different reality. Here you can reach and touch your imaginary creations, fall in love with them and never have your heart broken, but you can break their hearts. Your creations are built with a replica of a human heart and they can feel, but after a while they are discarded. Every time you create a new one, a funnier, sexier and much more interesting being, the old one is thrown into the trash. It's the normal cycle of things. Repeated over and over again. But then your creation, the one in the trash can, starts to cry and gets picked up by a poor girl that is hungry for affection. The poor girl and the discarded creation start living together on the streets, shielding each other from the harm of this different reality, and every time He, the creation, says "I love you", the heart of the poor girl is filled with joy. Every day they sleep together in a tight hug and look up at the grey sky. And then, while counting the spaceships that they watch passing by, She starts saying "I love you too" to the discarded creation and begins to let him play with her short hair.

I gaze at them sleeping together every time I leave this house built in my mind. It is not a house made of bricks. And sometimes the discarded creation gazes back at me. Then I keep walking, and I don't look back again.

Time passes fast in here. The girl turns into a woman and her hair is now long. The discarded creation stays the same and follows his savior anywhere she wants to go. Plans of running away from this different reality are filling her mind. He keeps following her. She decides to steal one of those spaceships that now fill the grey sky, and he still decides to follow her. Then, at last, in aforeseeable way, they cross paths with me once again, and with a made up gun, that can't harm me, the woman threatens me.

I give them my spaceship for them to become runaways, but the discarded creation stays still now. He does not move an inch away from the place he's standing. His gaze was locked on mine. The woman screams for him to follow her. She screams louder and louder and she starts crying while screaming his name.

"Go, she gave you a name." - I say, to my once, discarded creation. And he turns his back on me, while entering my spaceship with the woman that took care of him all of her life.

But the thing is, while you fly my pretty spacecraft, and wave around the gun made in this reality of mine, you take my creation with a heart programmed to love me forever, yet, there you go now, thinking that you both fit the profile of some kind of Intergalactic rebels.

Story written by: Snow White

(Image, once more, by James Jean)