Chapter 7 - Watched

I stayed still for some time, reading the subject lines as they appeared on the screen.

Though I had learned to read and type, our education at the clinic was still limited. I knew this well because I often asked the staff: What's this? What's that? How does this work? And the biggest question of all: How do you know this?

I felt comfortable asking because, unlike most of my coworkers who came and went in a matter of months, I stayed the longest, sometimes one year, two years, even three. These days, I got closer to the age of my supervisors than my coworkers.

I learned it at school, they would tell me.

We did have school at the clinic. We used to at least. Educators would come twice a week to teach us about History, Technology, or Science until I was about twelve or thirteen. Then, one day, they told us the budget was temporarily cut.

In the meantime, we had videos, but it wasn't the same. You couldn't ask questions to the video. The younger kids wouldn't even sit through them.

Whenever I was in a clinic with younger workers, I tried to teach them what I had learned from the educators. I hoped to fill the gaps in their knowledge until the educators returned. But years passed, and we were still waiting for them. Many of the younger ones couldn't read or type.

I also exchanged with others my age, thinking we might have different information if we had different educators in our clinics. We reviewed together what we knew, but usually, it was about the same. I wished I could meet people older than me, who might have had more years of school than me, but for the past years, I'd always been the oldest in every clinic I was sent to.

The same went for books. Each clinic had an Information Center stocked with different books. But it didn't help that the books were either too easy or too hard. The easy ones were perfect when I was young, and I used them to teach the young ones. But it was a struggle to go from Zappy the Electric Bee Save the Last Flower, to New Yuan City's Carbon Capital: Investing in a Future that Can Breathe.

I knew I was missing a few steps between those two. And I was reminded of this again today, watching the words ethics and sentient being complete mysteries to me. They sounded like words I could understand, words I had read in the complicated books, but I could not define them.

Anyway, none of this mattered anymore.

The owner was studying Love Machinas.

How was I supposed to deceive someone who studied the very thing I was pretending to be?

The owner's research requests slowed down as time passed. I moved over to the window, sitting on one hip on the bench while my head rested against the glass. I stared at the sky as the sun began to go down the other way. The blue letters reflected off the window, and I listened to the monotone voice announcing the new messages. The messages stopped for a while before starting up again later.

Eventually, I couldn't ignore the rumbling in my stomach and wandered to the kitchen. I opened every cupboard but they were empty. There was no fridge either.

"Where can I get something to eat?" I asked, desperate, the tiny cleaning robot, now crawling over the kitchen's glass screen to clean my fingertips on it.

It didn't answer, happily buzzing away.

Again, I wondered what kind of person lived here. No food, no decoration, no clothes, nothing.

Feeling hungry and overwhelmed by the day's events, I headed to the bedroom. I could still hear the voice announcing new messages, but I didn't care to listen anymore.

When would my next meal come? I should have eaten more at the onboarding meeting.

A terrifying thought came to me: if the owner was studying Love Machinas, was I being tested right now? Was I being starved on purpose?

I felt my growling stomach, trying to remind myself that Love Machina Inc. had assured us we would be safe.

Exhausted now, I kept drifting off, waking up, and drifting off again. At some point, the voice and the messages stopped altogether, but I didn't notice. The sky had darkened, and the room felt somber. I didn't want to get under the covers. I would have felt at ease earlier but now, a growing discomfort churned in my gut.

The night crept in and I realized the owner would probably be back soon.

I reached for the open zipper of my bodysuit, pulling it back to my chin, and burying my face in the collar. My hand clenched into a fist over the zipper as my mind raced, spinning through a series of scenarios, each more unnerving than the last. The lack of food for the day didn't help.

When I heard the front door open, my body went rigid. I strained to listen to every sound coming from downstairs.

There were clinking, metallic noises, and the thunder of my heart pounding.

It dawned on me.

I was naive and inexperienced, but I wasn't stupid.

I was alone in this house, with a stranger.

I felt weak and vulnerable, like a prey, waiting in plain sight. Fear tightened in my chest. My pupils shuddered as I kept my eyes locked on the window. The dark glass reflected the whole bedroom now, the yellow rectangle slit of light coming from the door cutting across it.

Then came heavy footsteps ascending the stairs, followed by more metallic sounds with each step, growing closer and closer.

And closer.

Fear made my blood run cold.

I froze.

What was going to happen now? I stopped breathing completely and squeezed my eyes shut, my entire body tensing up. The footsteps grew louder, and nearer until they seemed just outside the door.

Then, silence.

A faint clinking noise broke through the stillness.

The sound of footsteps retreating followed, disappearing down the hallway.

I remained immobile, cold sweat sliding down my neck. My senses were still on high alert.

The house became quiet again.

I waited.

I would have cried if my stress level were not so high. Two voices seemed to fight in my head. One reminded me that this was a mission, a job I had to accomplish if I wanted to reimburse half of my debt. The other one told me to run, fight, escape, sprint back to the clinic, cancel this contract, and return to the testing protocols I was familiar with.

Half of my debt. Half of my debt. Half of my debt, I kept reminding myself.

What finally made me move wasn't bravery or curiosity.

It was a necessity.

I needed to pee.

I double-crossed my legs and waited some more. I hoped the pressing need would fade away and I'd be able to sleep, but it didn't.

Summoning what little courage I had left, I slowly removed the soft-soled shoes I'd been wearing all day. One cautious step at a time, I crept toward the door, holding my breath with every movement, hyper-aware of any noise.

My fingers closed around the doorknob. Gritting my teeth, I carefully turned it to be sure it didn't make a sound. The tension in my body was so tight I felt like I would snap at any noise. The light from the small, slanted windows along the stairs dimly lit the hallway. When the door was slightly ajar, I took a quick peek outside and confirmed that the house was silent.

Still, on high alert, I was about to slip my foot out when a metallic clink echoed through the silence. My entire body tensed, my hair standing up, my heart bouncing up and down in my chest.

My foot had hit something cold and hard on the floor.

I could have had a heart attack.

I looked down.

It was a tray.

A tall cup of water and some dishes were neatly arranged on it. I crouched down, waiting a long moment to be sure the house was quiet again.

Already, I grabbed the cup and gulped the water desperately, realizing how thirsty I was.

I looked down the hallway, debating whether to bring the tray into the room. I decided against it, worried it might make too much noise.

I knew I could eat quietly if I had to.

On the tray were two little warm loaves of bread and a bowl that looked like soup. I didn't care for the cutlery, fearing it would make too much noise against the dishes, so I brought the bowl directly to my lips.

Maybe hunger clouded my judgment, but it tasted like the best thing I'd ever eaten.

If someone had looked through the small slanted windows of the stairs at that moment, they would have seen a young woman, hunched over a tray, stuffing her mouth with soup and bread as though it were the first time she had ever tasted food.

When I finished, I remembered why I'd been awake in the first place.

I stood up quickly, careful to step over the tray. My eyes were on the dark end of the hallway, my senses still on edge for any noise. I pushed open the bathroom door, closing it behind me with relief.

I took what felt like forever to pee as quietly as possible.

What was I so afraid of?

Making noise. Reveal my presence.

No, I preferred to be ignored. I wanted to.

Feeling more confident now, I washed my hands and splashed my face with water to rinse off the cold sweat, drinking a little more from my palms before heading back to the bedroom. Again, I didn't dare touch the tray. I left it outside, too scared to make a noise.

And wake up someone.

After peeking one last time down the other side of the hallway, I closed the door behind me.

A wave of relief washed over me when I slipped below the bed's covers. I was no longer thirsty and I had food in my stomach. I tucked myself under the soft sheets, a sense of safety enveloping me, and finally drifted off to sleep.

The owner gave me food.

He did not try to enter my room.

For now, that was enough to content me.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

I drifted to sleep, blissfully unaware that he had been watching me all along.

🗓️ Next chapters: this Monday, July 7th 🗓️

(I'll be posting two chapters or more with each update, hoping to take you on that new ride as fast as possible 🥰)