I was in Edwin’s room for our weekly meeting (Which he’d organized after I’d gotten used to working with this software.), putting my clothes back on, and wishing we could discuss business ﬁrst, so I didn’t have to talk to the guy who’d just made me love being raped. “You’ve been doing good work. I’ve only got a couple for you to work on this week.” He handed me a list.
“Light week?” Usually he had four or ﬁve, but it varied.
“Yeah. Parent’s day this weekend.”
“Oh, right. My mom and dad are bringing my sister down to look the place over.”
“Really?” I knew immediately I shouldn’t have said that. Or thought it. Or even known it.
“No, please… I beg you.” He turned to his computer. “I’ll do anything…” He was typing. “You don’t need to…”
I was sobbing as the command hit, and then I wasn’t. Which I still hadn’t gotten used to.
I picked myself up oﬀ the ﬂoor and left, not saying anything else. If Edwin wanted more, he could call me.
There were times when I hated knowing about the commands I’d been given, and not being changed by them. Most of the time, the commands would activate for some limited scenario, and then they’d be over. During the scenario I could ignore them, if I wanted: I really did feel, and even think (a bit) the way I was commanded to.
It was the rest of the time… When I was fully myself, but I knew I would, or had, done something. That, at the time, it was the most important thing in the world for me.
And that it disgusted me now.
Six months ago I had been the one to convince my sister to apply to the same school I was at. Told her it would be fun, that I wouldn’t get in her way, than I would be able to show her around.
Right now I hoped she would break a leg and have to stay home for the weekend.