“What the hell is her problem?” I thought to myself as I sat in my cubicle. Angela, one of my co-workers, was staring at me. More accurately, she was gawping at me. At my face. I wanted to scream at her, flip my desk over and demand what the fuck her problem was, but I just kept my head down. You see, this had been happening ever since I got a job here. In fact, anytime I got a new job, my co-workers would end up staring at my face.
It happened in public too. People in the street, on the hyper train, everywhere I went people were always looking at me, and I don’t know why. When 5 PM rolled around, I gathered up my things and headed out. Even tonight, it was no different. Everyone I passed seem to at the very least give me a sideways glance. It was intoxicating. Absolutely blinding rage filtered into every electrical impulse in my body, every time someone looked my way.
I got home and decided I would do a facial scan in my mirror. I locked my eyes on my face, and using my internal scanning system, I searched the internet for pictures of millions of humans. My face seemed just as human as any of the ones in my search… I decided it was probably best I just change my face and look for a new job again. Perhaps this time it would be different? Perhaps finally people would stop staring at my face.
The next day I traveled to a job interview after I posted a resignation letter to my old place of work. Nobody seemed to be looking at me. Not a single glance on the way there. “Finally!” I thought. Even if it only lasted a week like the other times, it would be a sweet release from feeling like a goldfish in a bowl!
The interview went well, and I headed home with a skip in my step. When I was on the hyper train, though, there was this one guy who seemed to keep looking in my direction… No, no… he was looking at my… at my face. I decided it was just one guy… right? You get weirdos on the train all the time, so I just tried to distract myself with a newspaper. I picked it up and looked through the headlines.
“Android units recalled after sensory module errors cause artificial paranoia,” it read. I saw the logo of the company that made me in the picture below it and shuddered. I hope they never found me. I looked at another headline. “Fourth victim of murder spree found.” My eyes widened, and I read on:
“Another body of a young man has been found in a park this morning, the latest in a sequence of vicious attacks. Much like the other bodies, he was found with his face removed, almost surgically, and left for dead sometime late last night.”
I looked up from the newspaper…
Why the hell was that guy still staring at my face?
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