Memories define us. After losing her identity, her sense of self-worth, and her hope for the future, Sapphire must find herself.

Based on a true story.

1: Tell me what to tell

July, 1st, 2014

I heard somewhere that the Devil wears Prada. The one I met wore a white coat and spoke Russian. He was my creator, because he gave me life and I murdered him. 

On a Monday, around five o’clock I buried him with a wreath of sweet vanilla pods.

Jared Corbel Bradley, born January the second of 1890, designed a flawless creature. Something destined to overpower humans aka his greatest masterpiece.  

No one knew what it was or where it came from, but he liked to call me patient zero.

No one expected it and nobody could stop it.   So how do you keep me out, when I've already invited myself in?

You couldn’t have saved Jared or anyone else. All you could have done was watch. And father dearest made his last breath count. The others did not.

If the human race has learned something by now it is the fact that when they do something for the first time they fuck it up.

Bringing bad things to life consumes you and good clinic material acts on impulse. It doesn’t consider the ramification of its actions.

The man behind the myth was a coward, even though his mind changed the world.

He never apologized or stopped his scientific research. That human started a change. One individual in a world of billions hoped to adjust all God's creatures to his liking.

I assumed I should be grateful to just stand next to him, but little did I know how wrong my thoughts were. That’s when I knew I couldn’t go on.  

You may want to know why, correct?

It’s easy to be alone.

Worry not, I’m not going to offer you an introduction to ethical issues.

Jared used to drink a cup of white tea every morning and eat one kilogram of freshly cut lychees on Tuesdays. Each Sunday father liked to go the market and buy green apples and orange flowers.

Do you want to know how Jared described me?

“It doesn’t think and it doesn’t feel.”

Do you want to know what he wrote in a letter to his dear friend Otto?

“Test subjects so far are one trick ponies. After the experiments they only retain a limited set of skills that are meant for specific tasks.”

Family is a cruel joke and forgiveness is not only bitter but also more painful than the wound suffered.

I grew up in a cabin in the woods. Jared knew what scared me and everyone has a breaking point.

I ate and killed.  It made Jared smile. The dualism was simple.  Mind at the top and the flesh at the bottom.

Then the other woman came. The lucky one. The loved one.

Innocence died, but I lived. Not all stories have a happy ending.

A girl like me, dreaming of a beach house, stood no chance. Aliza, my twin sister, had father’s heart and birthday presents. I was no longer the brightest star in the sky. I was the one who chased the moon.

That’s the story that has been told about Corbel’s creations. The other side of the story rests unknown. If he could see me now, he would not be happy with what I became, but he would mourn Aliza. The girl with all the gifts left her own life. 

Years later, I left a message in a bottle to all the boys I never loved and the father I never had. “Maybe in another life I could belong somewhere.”

No longer do I have great expectations or a home. I am not a legend.

The world has changed in the last century, but I haven’t.

Humans tend to create something and then abandon it.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.

06:45

In a corner of the city, inside a tall, old building with broken windows, was where you’d find me.  The building had been abandoned in the great depression. One day gravity will win.

I ease out of bed and into the wild I go, but shower sounds more realistic.

Between the world and me lies my past.  Delusions of a man whose reason had come undone. I have been shamed, on newspapers and radio stations, as genetic failure and normal tags like monster or faceless killer. Patient zero was famous for a while.

2o minutes later

I step out of the shower and dry myself off with a fluffy towel. In the middle of the room I was with a handful of books and no humans to kill.

Save your energy.  Sometimes fighting is useless. As homo sapiens you are physically vulnerable. Your body can be damaged too easily and yet you fail to acknowledge that.

I walked to the cream armoire, opened it and slipped on a white bodysuit. I wish I were again the person that I was when I wanted to become what I am. Like a bat out of hell I slumped against the wall, breathing in the dusty air. I simply stared straight ahead, hands folded. My hair was dark and unbound and I still looked more child than woman.

Blue irises indicate higher tolerance for pain and lower rick of anxiety or depression.

You were always his favorite, Aliza used to say. She lived in ignorance, but she also managed to be everything I wasn’t.

Aliza carried herself like a queen, but when the world gave up on her, she gave up on herself.

I remember that day. It was just another day where I couldn’t control my life.

The door creaked open.  Maybe I should have reacted. And the end of the day it doesn’t matter.

Eliot closed the door behind him and faced me. Jackpot. He once knew me, but not anymore. We became strangers to each other gradually.

I guess this is how disappointment feels like.

Hesitation finally sank in his wet clothes. His bravado faded as he stared at me. Eliot inhaled and exhaled. He was a tall man, well over six feet, with blonde hair and pea-green eyes. 

The human wore simple clothing. Olive sweatshirt. Navy trousers. Nothing special.

“I need somewhere to sleep.” He said under his breath. The voice came from the back of the room. Eliot had his hands dipped into cotton pockets, head down and the will to ruin my carpet.

It’s been twenty years since I last saw him. Eliot was only five years old when his family was murdered in their farmhouse.

A few years after he got a job and moved in this building, because he couldn’t afford to rent an apartment.

I stared at the door for a moment, drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He’d been a lot of things to me. At first, nothing more than a sad little boy.

Aliza kept him around, fed him and took care of his human mind. For the first time in his life someone cared.

“Welcome home Eliot. Now you can get uncomfortable.”

I wondered if I even sounded remotely human. So I attempted to smile. Pretended I knew how to paint a daisy.

 “Where’s Aliza?”

I looked over at him and raised one eyebrow. Did his love make her head spin?

Her regrets clouded her for a long time. Aliza smiled often, but managed to feel nothing. Her suicide shocked and angered me at the same time.

Some days I felt guilty. Other days the human in me refused to accept that she was gone.

 “What do you see when you look at me?”

Eliot backed up a step but didn’t leave. His confused look washed over me like a wave of nausea. He didn’t know Aliza very well after all, but he isn’t stupid either.

He had already waited a year for her to go back to him or at least say something.

None of the above occurred.

Swallowing hard, he knelt and held his breath.

I moved closer to him. The human didn’t say a word, just straightened, his jaw tight.

She never said goodbye to him.