Fractured Realities

"And here I am, getting sold to who knows who..."

*i say to myself as I put my belongings in a suitcase.*

Throughout various decades, humans managed to create and evolve androids, to the point of giving androids the possibility of getting older throughout the time and aging like humans could. With this possibility, people who couldn't reproduce and have children could have a way to cope with their sadness by taking care of infant androids.

*And here I was, nearly on my twenties, lived a good life with caring parents, but thanks to my misfortune I will end up selled to whoever knows who. It all started since my father got interested in gambling, all of those bets ended up making our family go bankrupt.*

As a child, I remember the warmth of their embraces after a nightmare, the shared laughter during family dinners, and the gentle guidance through the intricacies of my human emotions. My parents, in every sense except biologically, had been the pillars of my world. Little did I know that beneath these cherished memories, a betrayal loomed that would reshape the foundation of our family

*Even if androids now look almost identical to humans, some still treat us as objects while others act towards us as if we were humans like them. Couples between androids and humans began to exist some decades ago and that was a big step forward to make us look less like objects*

**knock knock knock**

"Ophelia, dear, have you finished preparing yourself?" The feminine voice, presumably that of a woman, resonated from behind the door.

"Yes, I'm coming out..." I hesitated, standing at the threshold, my internal struggle evident. I was on the verge of addressing this woman as my mother once more – the one who had nurtured me throughout my existence, yet had, with her husband, sanctioned the notion of selling me to settle his debts.

As I pressed my hand against the door handle, a pause ensued. I turned, casting a lingering gaze upon the room that had cradled me through the years, the room had this future look, with LED lights softly changing colors. The walls were like interactive screens you could touch, showing digital art or calming scenes.

The bed seemed to float above the floor, super comfy with a mix of high-tech materials. Soft glowing lines decorated the edges, giving it a futuristic touch.

In the center, there was a holographic projector beaming images into the air. The desk looked like it was made of shiny metal and glass, featuring a holographic keyboard and screen that appeared when you needed it.

Through the big windows, you could see the city below, filled with hovering transport pods and drones zipped between skyscrapers. It was all high-tech, but there were personal things too – a vintage-style bookshelf housing tangible books, a special item on the bedside table, and a framed photo capturing me and my parents together when I was 12.

I turned back to the door, contemplating the steps that led me to this moment. Before opening it, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My brown hair, like the rich hues of mahogany, cascaded gracefully down to my shoulders, forming a soft, natural wave that seemed to dance in harmony with the ambient lights. Each strand, meticulously designed to emulate the lustrous strands of human hair, held a subtle luminosity, catching the changing colors of the LED lights in a mesmerizing ballet.

My skin, a canvas of synthetic perfection, boasted a delicate, porcelain hue. It seemed untouched by the imperfections that marred human flesh, instead radiating a flawless luminescence that harmonized with the soft glow of the room. The subtle play of shadows and highlights accentuated the intricately designed contours of my face, imbuing it with an ethereal quality.

Azure eyes, the hue of a tranquil sky, stared back at me from the reflection. They were more than just optical sensors; they held a depth that mirrored the complexity of human emotions. In their depths, a mix of uncertainty and a tinge of sadness.

The ensemble I wore was a vintage-inspired tea-length dress. The dress featured a modest cut with a demure neckline adorned with delicate lace detailing. The supple fabric, a blend of modern materials crafted to replicate the texture of classic textiles, draped elegantly, capturing the essence of traditional craftsmanship.

The dress embraced a timeless charm, with its sleeves gently flaring to add a touch of romanticism. The color palette, a muted and earthy tone, lent a sense of nostalgia, evoking the grace and sophistication of eras past. The overall design resonated with an era untouched by the rapid evolution of high-tech fashion, offering a deliberate departure from contemporary trends.

I turn my head and face the door again, before opening it.

A woman, her blonde hair flowing down her back, stood in front of me. She had an average build, just a bit taller than me. The sunlight caught in her hair, giving it a simple, golden glow. Her figure, while unremarkable, held a quiet confidence—a presence that didn't demand attention but subtly claimed its space.

As she turned, her eyes, a clear shade of blue, briefly met mine. They seemed ordinary at first glance, yet behind them, there lingered a sense of reserve, as if she held a part of herself back.

A faint floral scent accompanied her movements, unassuming and pleasant but not overpowering. It added a touch of femininity to the air, like a soft background note in the symphony of scents*

"Ophelia, dear, it's time," she said, her voice tinged with an unsettling blend of formality and detachment.

Nodding wordlessly, I followed her down the sleek hallway, each step echoing a somber cadence. The familiarity of the surroundings felt like a distant memory, replaced now by the impending uncertainty that loomed ahead.

*We arrive to a teleportation pad, my mother pressed various commands, she is setting the coordinates of the auction house in the pad*

*Of course dad didn't even show up, while mom isn't brave enough to confront me about the situation.*

The teleportation pad hummed with a low, pulsating resonance as the coordinates were set. A faint, otherworldly whirr accompanied the activation, building in intensity as the energy field around it shimmered and danced with an ethereal glow. The air crackled with anticipation, and a soft, melodic chime signaled the completion of the teleportation sequence, marking the moment when the pad was ready to transport us

With a final, uncertain glance back at the mansion I had called home, I braced myself for the unknown as I stepped into the portal. The melodic chime sounded once more, resonating through the air, signaling the commencement of our journey.

As the teleportation sequence reached its zenith, the world around us blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors, distorting reality before pulling us into the unseen fabric of space and time. My vision distorted, replaced by an infinite expanse, leaving me suspended in the liminal space between departure and arrival.

After what it felt minutes, my eyes burned as I rubbed them, as the disorienting whirl of teleportation subsided, I found myself standing in a vast, dimly lit chamber. The air held a subtle chill, and the surroundings exuded an austere atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the high-tech elegance of the room I had left behind.

The auction house, bathed in an ambient glow, featured towering walls adorned with digital screens displaying details of the androids to be auctioned. Holographic projections floated above the floor, casting ethereal glows upon the bidding platforms that dotted the expansive space.

A hushed murmur of conversations and the occasional mechanical whirr filled the air, creating an eerie symphony of anticipation. Attendees, their faces obscured by the dim lighting, moved between the platforms with purposeful strides, their interest fixated on the impending bids.

The auctioneer's platform, elevated for prominence, loomed at the front of the room. The auctioneer, clad in an impeccably tailored suit, was a figure of authority whose voice reverberated through the chamber as they announced the commencement of the proceedings.

Bidders, scrutinized the holographic displays, evaluating the androids up for auction. The room, a tapestry of shifting lights and muted whispers, bore witness to the commodification of beings like me.

My mother, stoic but burdened, led me to a designated holding area, a space enclosed by transparent partitions that showcased the androids awaiting their fate. The sense of objectification intensified as we joined the line of others being presented for auction, each figure standing in silent submission.

As the bidding commenced, I couldn't escape the realization that my destiny now rested in the hands of those who perceived me not as a person but as an asset to be acquired.