The head contraption used to connect to the Network put pressure on my temples. The few seconds immediately after I activated the switch on the machine were as if my mind's link to my body had been severed, ending with an almost painful return of all the senses at once. Although I still recognized the connection shop when I glanced around, it looked ethereal now, with a plastic-like quality to everything, and no one else remained in the place. I had no idea what to do, as this was my first time connecting.
Father had kept us both away from technology. In our house, which used to lay in the outskirts of town, we didn't need to worry too much about anything other than the city's waste contamination and humbly working the land. My sister hated Father, though, and the day he died she fled, leaving Mother and I to ourselves. We didn't hear from her in those two years, until Mother died of the disease as well. A neighbor pressured to buy the land after that; there was nothing left for me there anymore, and I was already grown enough to leave, so I accepted the greedy offer. I departed in search of the only person I still had left.
What I discovered when I arrived in the city, though, was that she was also dead. It took me some time to find her, because she had changed her last name, but I could confirm what I had been told once I saw the dried blood atop the table she had her computer on, her face with sunken eyes, and smelled the pungent stench that would not leave my nostrils for days. She had been dead for a week, but the motel owners never took care of the body, claiming that it was the responsibility of the police. It had been suicide.
I tentatively removed the device from my head and, confirming that I was still connected, walked toward the door of the connection shop. Outside, it was similarly devoid of life, and there was no wind, or any sort of motion. Bright, blinking advertisements were now unlit, and even the sound of my footsteps seemed to have become quieter.
I walked through the city for several hours, though nothing reflected this, not even the dim, unmoving sun. I found the motel and climbed the four flights of stairs that led me to my sister's room. Inside, it was just as it had been the first time I visited, with her laying motionless, her face turned to the window opposite the door, one hand on the table. The only difference was that there was no blood this time, no smell. I approached her, and kneeled. Lifting her hand I felt a faint warmth, and a soft pulse; I clutched it with my own. Softly brushing her hair, I sensed a reaction in my palm. Slowly, she turned her head to me. She found my eyes, and she smiled.
As soon as I got to the city and learned of the rumors regarding the Network, I knew that she had never really hated Father. And I knew just why so many people abandon their quiet place to come live in the city that Father despised so much. I was no better, no stonger than them. Outside, there are so many people without hope, people that have nothing left to live for. There are so many other people that don't mind the lies.
