It was born from hope, a longing that everything would be alright. That if life, past and present, could be captured in an entry, then the good and bad that came with it would be suspended within the four corners of an archive.
He trapped happy entries, like fireflies in a jar, kept within easy reach for the occassional dark days. And he tagged each unpleasant one by its toe, before laying it to rest within its virtual casket.
It turned out to be a social being, drawn to its own kind. But in a place of john and jane does, friendships are fleeting. He said, "It's ok. You were made to listen to me." And it clung to its host more tightly.
It fed off thoughts and words for sustenance but then wanted more. It asked for legs, a soul, and to live like its master. It delved into him to satiate its hunger, and would not let go.
It seduced its keeper to stay longer as it fed. It mimicked the brightness of the sun outside, projected from its screen, and engaged him with stories borrowed from its neighbors.
It flourished and bloomed, it felt alive. But then it saw its host's reflection on the screen. Pale, not having been outside, and tethered, for its borrowed life. It softly spoke to him, "I have served my purpose. Now you have to let me go."
"I can't. You have kept me company all this time. Besides, I am not ready," he replied.
"But until you do, you won't move on. You have to live. Can't you see that if you don't, I will eventually die too?" it begged him. "Please. It's ok."
He looked at his creation, which now bears his reflection. How does one kill oneself?
Settings. Delete. Confirm.
And then he was free.
photo credit : filmschoolrejects.com