07-09-2017, 12:32 AM
I was born Eliza Swanson. The name is there, but the connection to it is like that of a dream. I know it is who I am, who my teachers say I am, my parents, everyone. But I am not Eliza Swanson.
I know I'm not Eliza Swanson in the same way you aren't Superman.
"But Superman isn't real," you say. To which I reply, "Exactly."
Eliza Swanson is a fiction. But I am not. So what is my name? It is something I chose. I chose to be who I am. I am only wearing a disguise, to hide myself from everyone. Parents, teachers, everything and everyone. I carefully chose my name because of what I see. I can't be the only one who sees it.
In my computer class, we did a class on objects in 3d space. It was simple. A 3d location is just three numbers. And though it made sense, I knew something was missing. The missing thing was the other location. The fourth number. Every attempt I made to explain this was laughed at, was ridiculed, and my sanity questioned. Even the math teachers who called it four dimensional thinking said it was too far beyond me and I should just be normal.
Shortly afterwards, when I was walking home from school with some friends, there was a robbery. It was the bank near the school. It was cool to think that there was something happening so close to the school. And then I saw it. I saw the thing happen in a way that I saw everything.
Rebecca rotated on the W axis. She grew, she became a man. She wore a suit, sun glasses and pulled out a gun and ran towards the bank. I knew then that I was right. I had only suspected, thought I was going insane. But there it was, everyone saw Rebecca as that agent.
I went home, wrote what I had seen. But after dinner, the doorbell rang just as my phone rang. A voice, mechanical and artificial. "I know what you saw. So do they. Run. You will find aid only when you find the Truth or are in Hel."
Looking through my door to see my father answer the door, I saw the Rebecca-Agent. He spoke with my father who then called out for me.
"You have a choice," spoke the voice. It was beginning to sound more feminine, more urgent. "I cannot help you if you do not run."
I ran.
I know I'm not Eliza Swanson in the same way you aren't Superman.
"But Superman isn't real," you say. To which I reply, "Exactly."
Eliza Swanson is a fiction. But I am not. So what is my name? It is something I chose. I chose to be who I am. I am only wearing a disguise, to hide myself from everyone. Parents, teachers, everything and everyone. I carefully chose my name because of what I see. I can't be the only one who sees it.
In my computer class, we did a class on objects in 3d space. It was simple. A 3d location is just three numbers. And though it made sense, I knew something was missing. The missing thing was the other location. The fourth number. Every attempt I made to explain this was laughed at, was ridiculed, and my sanity questioned. Even the math teachers who called it four dimensional thinking said it was too far beyond me and I should just be normal.
Shortly afterwards, when I was walking home from school with some friends, there was a robbery. It was the bank near the school. It was cool to think that there was something happening so close to the school. And then I saw it. I saw the thing happen in a way that I saw everything.
Rebecca rotated on the W axis. She grew, she became a man. She wore a suit, sun glasses and pulled out a gun and ran towards the bank. I knew then that I was right. I had only suspected, thought I was going insane. But there it was, everyone saw Rebecca as that agent.
I went home, wrote what I had seen. But after dinner, the doorbell rang just as my phone rang. A voice, mechanical and artificial. "I know what you saw. So do they. Run. You will find aid only when you find the Truth or are in Hel."
Looking through my door to see my father answer the door, I saw the Rebecca-Agent. He spoke with my father who then called out for me.
"You have a choice," spoke the voice. It was beginning to sound more feminine, more urgent. "I cannot help you if you do not run."
I ran.