Fragments

“She’s lost her sparkle, I worry this takes a toll on her.” Through the thin walls I overhear mom speak once again, it has become a ritual for her to nitpick on what I have become. What the algorithm has done to me. The life it has sucked out and the black void it has given me instead.

Sometimes I want to yell and tell her I can hear, and that my headsets are not on my ears 24/7, but I do not. I stare at the dark ceiling dreaming to escape this life. Sometimes I scroll through my phone reading up on what life was like in 2022, before this came to hunt us.

You see in this life we are the slaves to the algorithm. The person with the most followers has the treasure of “eternal youth”

(whatever that means)

Kamaria Gliss with a following of 2 billion people. On View it she is known as @Blissfully.Kami. I've never seen her in real life but I've seen her holograms when she goes live. It's quite difficult to miss, when she’s live millions of holograms appear. Worshipping the green-eyed goddess with hair as long as the great mythical princess Rapunzel, even the blonde, is a replica. Different outfits every day, she is in fact stylish, but that’s because she has a whole team behind her curating her look and her personality to top-tier perfection.

I wanted what she had. I hungered for it like a lion watching its prey. Especially her flowy hair. It’s amazing to see a Woman be in Power in the year 2065, but if I had to reach her stature, I would have to flat iron my hair, and maybe some days wear a wig, because somehow braids are still unacceptable. You would think by now after all we have endured and after all these years. Black women would be accepted by society.

The pressure to be someone, I used to like it and show up as a different character. I created personalities, getting lost in who I actually am and never returning back to my authenticity.

I even show up differently on View it.

It’s in my bio

*Name: Malika

Username: Roseryblues

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My pictures were altered, every single frame I had my hair straightened never did I show off my 4C curls.

The clothes I wore were dresses that hugged my curves and showed just the right amount of skin but never did I wear pants. It was not appealing to the starving men that would pay to see more of me. More of what laid beneath the fabrics of clothing

My blemishes from the pimples I had popped prior were nonexistent. I was pore-less. And according to my pictures of the platform, I loved going out to restaurants with my friends. Who also altered themselves to fit the standards of not only society but the algorithm too. You had to look and act a certain way or else your followers would topple.

This was not at all me, but I have to live this way or else I could not make it to 10k followers. With 10k followers I could buy anything without my parent's permission. With 60k to 100k, I could buy land. Our algorithm is a huge part of our currency in this lifetime. I have to be someone else but what If I don't want to be someone else anymore?

Tonight with my friend Liam I plan to break free from all of it. None of this is actually real. When I hear the lights flick off from my parent's bedroom. I place my feet on the floor and the wooden tiles creak as I slowly walk to my duffle bag with my phone torch leading the way.

In the bag of clothes, I grab my white slides. Is taking a bag even worth it? If the rumours are right about all of this being a simulation then a bag is pointless. I walk to the window and the cool breezes immediately evoke goosebumps. Down below pacing back and forth with his hands on his head is Liam.

“Psssst”, I hiss at him, but back and forth he walks, his hands travel from head to then him hugging himself.

“Liam!" I call out and in the dark, he looks at me. “Can you at least try to relax? You know I'm the one struggling with anxiety and somehow I'm so chilled,” I yell, but try to whisper simultaneously.

His head tilts, I'm guessing he heard nothing I said. I place my phone in my back pocket. Thank goodness for my dad's genes, being a skyscraper is not only useful in basketball but jumping out of windows too.

My feet thud when I land. “I was saying you need to relax so far the plan is going accordingly.”

“I know I just…”, he scratches the back of his head. “What if all of this is a hoax?”

“Well there is only one to find", I begin to go out the side of the road.

“Yeah but this is crazy”, he hastily grabs my arm. “Look," he turns me around. “Why can't we just accept the fact that this is our life now? We live for the algorithm. It's not bad, right? Think about it everyone gets a chance to be rich to be famous. To have anything they want. What's so bad about that?”

I roll my eyes, “you can't be seriously backing down now?

Yesterday you told me that our lives are fake and that all of this is not living. That we shouldn't be chasing material things? We shouldn't be measuring our self-worth by the likes and followers we have? We shouldn't have to show up as anyone else but ourselves. And tonight you're backing out?”

He let's go off my arm. “You're right”, he shoves his hands in his pocket releasing his car keys. I hop in the passenger seat. So we have two ways of escaping all of this. Knives or we jump. Silence fills the car. “Are we sure about this?” Liam's tone of uncertainty presents itself once again.

“Liam it's real trust me okay. The dark web doesn't lie.”

“Mmm I don't know this sounds sketchy," his eyebrows crease. “We found this on the dark web Malika The dark web! Where people trade in bodies. And somehow this life we are living is a simulation? And the only way to escape it is by….”

“Taking our lives” I finish his sentence.

“Don't you think it's crazy?" His dark eyes bore into mine.

“Are you happy living this way Liam, having to play different characters each time? Having to chase meaningless things like cars, land money or eternal youth. Whatever that bullshit is! I just don't want to be here anymore”, I whisper

“I know”, he replies, “but what if this is a suicide mission? What if we actually die. What if it's not a simulation but some made-up shit on the dark web?”

“Then maybe I don't care. I just want to be free. Start the engine. I'll do this alone if I have to.”

___

Standing on the bridge, with our hands intertwined, I look at Liam one last time. This time the white of his eyes are bloody red. On the way here he cried painfully. Stifling away his fear of the unknown.

“ You don't have to be here with me, you know that?"

“I know. How are you not scared?”

“I don't know, maybe because I've been dead inside for months. I feel so soulless, like a black hole in space. I look at all of this and I wonder what was the point of it all. Who was I anyway? If all I did was play all these different characters online, who am I? Who are you, Liam? Who is anybody?”

“You're not making sense,” he says.

“I know but it makes sense to me. One last inhale of this breath of life. I look down not being able to see the water but I can hear the small currents. I let go of Liam's clammy hands. The wind howls, almost like it's a woman wailing.

I glance at the glint of the moon. Maybe deep down inside I know that it was a hoax created on the dark web, but I can't help but think this is the only way to be free from all of it.

I close my eyes and a stream of sadness trails down my face. My heart accelerates. My hands become sweaty. Physically I may be scared but emotionally I can't feel anything.

“Goodbye” I whisper

and jump.