That door.

It stood over me, towering, a sentinel. A cerberus of my own design; and the landlord’s. The aged frames and the frayed edges, the splintering wood and the peeled paint seemed to say: Don’t bother. The world’s out to get you. Look what it did to me. The light from the sun cast faded coronas in the bottom gap, and when I looked at it for longer than two seconds, I swear I could see shadows pass by. People? No, monsters? Ah, what was the difference? I wouldn’t even see them.

I can’t recall the last time I’d washed my clothes. It’s been so long, that I’d forgotten how. The old tracksuit I’d had from my student days was the only thing that could’ve been considered ‘clean’ – if you didn’t mind the splotches, grime and dirt. Luckily, it was mostly black; the stains wouldn’t be too obvious from a distance. But the smell would be. Even so, I threw it on; rather than outgrowing it, it was like it outgrew me. I felt smaller in it. No surprise there.

Shivering. I barely caught myself shivering. It wasn’t cold in my room, but it was like I’d been stranded in Hokkaido smack-dab in the winter. I thought I’d mustered enough courage. But what if someone I knew came up to me? And what if the rewiring stopped working? What if they started… talking to me? What would I say? That I’d become a shut-in? A loser? My leg bobbed up and down as I clenched my teeth in agitation. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

But the AI floated to my side. Silently, she gestured towards the door. I steeled my nerves. It’d be fine. It’ll be quick. In and out. I placed a shaky hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly. A small click, reverberating through my room like the drop of a boulder. For a moment, I paused. My fears caught back up to me, clawing my back, tethering me to the comfort – the safety – of my room. Then in another, I opened the door.

Bright!

The light rushed into my eyes like a bullet train. My eyes, which had grown so used to the dark, immediately shut closed; even so, I still saw the flashbang. My body contorted as if I’d been smothered in acid as I felt the heat of the day lash across my skin, like arrays of needles pressing on my body. It was like I was seeing the world through opening and closing shutters with how much I blinked. Even in the shade, I’d only allow my eyes to open a sliver. It was just that bright – or maybe, my room was just that dark.

“Don’t be dramatic. Look.”

Gradually, my eyes parted, though still tense, prepared to slam shut again. But there was no need. My apartment was on the second floor facing the street, so I had a perfect view of the road, the cars, the other buildings straight across; even so, when had the world been this… bright? The setting was far from it, but to me it was picturesque. The trees, a verdant, spry green, the morning dew burned off in the afternoon heat; the shining glare of car windows, truck mirrors, glass backlights of motorbikes. And the great brilliance of the azure sky, parted clouds drifting between the sun, a bird or two flapping through the cobalt canvas. The heat had a smell – of vacation, of air on the wind, of springly youth and nascent hope. It felt less malicious. My eyes fluttered rapidly, as if I were in a vivid dream.

The voice of the AI was an ebbed noise in the background. It was only until she nearly shouted in my ear that I finally took notice. “Hey!”

“Sorry! Sorry… What were you saying?”

“I was asking you what you thought, seeing that you haven’t seen the sunlight in ages. Any impressions?”

“Well…” I sucked in a breath. How could I begin to describe it? “It’s the same street as always. Same sun. Same street.”

“And?”

“It’s too bright.” I looked back to the street. It was empty. But at the far corner: A barrel-chested figure in a black suit and combover, carrying a suitcase I could get flattened by. His face was wrought with wrinkles, and he had a slouch in his step. He looked bitter, as if he’d never smiled in his life. The foot soldier of society: The office worker. He was coming this way, past my building. No. To my building. As he inched closer, I realized it was Yamada – one of my neighbors. And he was heading my way.

I whipped my head to the AI. “The thing!” I blurted, my voice frantic. “The rewiring! Do the thing!”

She raised an eyebrow. “Surely that won’t be necessary. He doesn’t know you. And even if he does, it’d be a good way for me to gauge how truly socially inept you are.”

I could feel the blood drain from my face, siphoning what was left of the little color it had. “This isn’t the time for fucking around! You promised!”

Suddenly, I heard steps from the edge of the hall. Far away – nevertheless reverberating. Big, lumbering, abrasive. As if they came from a giant. My heart shot to my throat. Droplets of sweat pooled below my brow. I could already feel myself edging back into the door, back into my room. Even after I’d come this far.

The AI must’ve seen me step back. She looked like she’d expected this, yet was disappointed regardless. With a snap of her fingers, a translucent blue panel appeared in thin air, with real-time graphs, 2D knobs, dials, notes and the like. My eyes were drawn to one thing in particular, a number next to a heart read: 164 BPM. “I suppose I did. One moment.”

That moment stretched out for several years. I saw the man’s shoe and the edge of his suitcase peek out from behind the corner, as if it were in slow motion. The rest of him followed, and as it did, I could see even more of his dour expression, and his narrow eyes falling upon me. But not for long; from the middle of his body, a pulse of chopped blue light radiated from his chest. As it spread to his extremities, the parts it touched vanished, until he completely disappeared mid-gait.

“There,” The AI chimed from beside me. “He’s gone. Unless people get really up in your face, you won’t see them.”

“I see.” I let out a tense exhale. I knew he didn’t actually vanish. He was probably still shooting glances my way, thinking to himself: That kid went out? I thought he’d died. It’d be better if he did. Freeloading, useless scum. Though at the very least, I couldn’t see him do it. It wasn’t exactly “out of sight, out of mind–” but it was the next best thing. “Thanks. I guess I owe you.”

“You owe yourself a meal,” She said. The console-panel thing disappeared with a zip! “Do you remember where 7-Eleven is?”

I shook my head. “Alright. I’ll guide you, then.” She floated ahead towards the end of the corridor, turning back to me. It was a short distance away, but to me, I might as well have been crossing the Grand Canyon. The gray concrete stretched all the way to the horizon’s edge, and I felt so, so tiny.

Fuck it. Fuck. Just go.

The first step I took out of the doorway was wobbly, shaky; as if with the slightest breeze, I’d knock over and tumble to the floor. Like I was just learning to walk again. The next step was only slightly better. I breathed in. I breathed out. It was like walking on eggshells; except replace the eggshells with a tightrope over a yawning chasm, and I had to walk it in heels.

Then everything stabilized. The world went back to being… the world. Instead of being planets away, the end of the corridor was just there. I could walk to it. And when I did, each step of mine tentative, stopping right next to the AI, I leaned against the concrete balcony, looking back to where I started. It was such a short distance. So short, and yet, so insurmountable. But I crossed it anyway. And I felt on top of the world.

“Ok,” I said. “Ok. Ok, ok, ok. Let’s go.” The AI cleared her throat. “The door.”

“Shit. Sorry. After I get the door.”

…

7-Eleven wasn’t too far. By the time I turned the last corner to get there, I could still see my apartment complex in the distance, vague, hidden by other buildings and obscured by power lines. After I’d left the grounds, my glee from before had been reduced to a sliver. But aside from a few interjections from the AI about the directions, and a few more jeers telling me to fix my posture, the walk was pleasantly quiet. I couldn’t say the same about the heat. At my apartment, the upper floors roofed the corridors, creating a shade – out in the open with my tracksuit, I felt myself sweating in places I didn’t know I could. Maybe I should pick up some ice cream, too.

Still though.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

There was a playground I’d passed by on the way. The school I went to had one too, but this one was much nicer. I remember when I was a kid, whenever I wasn’t holed up inside studying or at school, I was out there. And I wasn’t the kid alone on the swings, daintily swaying back and forth. I was the kid chasing after people with the fervor of a bloodhound on a trail during tag, the master of disappearing and reappearing during hide and seek. Maybe not always the one who laughed first, but definitely the one who laughed loudest. The last one to go as the years passed until I was the only one left. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia – and hurt, really – that those days had long since gone. Where did they go? What happened to that kid?

Well, it didn’t matter. Not as much as what I’d eat.

I entered the 7-Eleven. If the AI didn’t rewire my brain, I probably would’ve heard a chipper “Welcome!” From the cashier. It must’ve come off rude, from their perspective, how I just blatantly ignored them. But I know what they really thought. They said welcome, but someone like me, they’d want out as soon as possible. Maybe they’d sneak pictures, making fun of me in their little Insta group chats. Of course they would. It’s not everyday you see a shut-in in the wild. I must’ve been like some rare creature to them, like a mythical pokemon. Huh. I’d never thought of–

Schwap!

The AI suddenly clapped in front of my face, snapping me out of my mind. “Hey!”

I flinched. I’d made my way to one of the corner aisles, so luckily, no one saw me. Hopefully. “Can you not do that?!”

“You were zoning out.” Her face turned smug. “You know, I just realized how silly you look to other people. It’s like you’re talking to yourself.”

I felt my face flush. “You didn’t have to say that!” I scanned the rest of the store, but I forgot I wouldn’t be able to see anyone. An act of reflex.

“Just a joke,” She said. “If you had a phone, it’d just look like you were talking on the line. Or even headphones. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

I scowled. I began to reach for one of the ramen packages. “Instant ramen isn’t that healthy for you.” The AI said.

“It’s the only thing that’ll last long. I don’t have a fridge.”

“Yes you do. It’s just covered by all that junk.” I heard a small whirr come from her direction. “You mean to say you’d forgotten that? Seriously?”

“You can’t blame me for that, can you? I can’t remember the last time I’d clean my room.”

She crossed her arms. The ends of her jacket swayed weakly, as if brushed by an invisible wind. “Well, now we know what to do when you return. Have you ever heard of Feng Shui?”

“Quiet…” My hand was hovering between a multi-pack of soba and ramen. Which would last me longer? It was hard to say.

“If you’re being this indecisive, make your own food. You’re sharing a room with a living cookbook.”

“7-Eleven doesn’t sell ingredients, idiot. Do you see anything around here?”

Surprisingly, she didn’t say a word. I didn’t catch her look, but was either seething, or pretending not to. Probably. At the very least, I got the last word! Guess there’s a first for everything.

I cradled the several packs of Maruchan in my arms, making careful strides to the self-checkout. It wasn’t a long walk, yet somehow, I felt… tired. As if my arms suddenly transmuted to metal, and the cellophane packages were made of bricks. I thought it was just my body failing me – a depressing thought, since I hadn’t even broken thirty – but as I spilled over the counter, the packs tumbling onto the top, I heard my breathing: Rattling. Raspy. Strained. The world flashed before my eyes. The bright lights of the convenience store dimmed to a dulling degree, and I saw people, people, starting to stare at me from the corners of their eyes. The cashier from the front; a young man, maybe highschool age; turning away, pretending to fiddle with the microwave behind him. A salarywoman at the fridges. One of those JKs by the sweets aisle. But in another moment, they disappeared, and the world was brighter again.

“Urgh… Ah…” It was a struggle to come back up to a stand. But I did, eventually.

The AI looked at me concerningly. “Is everything ok?”

Her words were the peals of a bell, and my head was stuck inside. I felt a sudden, stabbing shock. It came from the side of my head. I felt my lips move, but I couldn’t answer. My vision – how can I put this? It glitched out. As if I were watching the world through a faulty screen. The bottoms and the corners were eaten away by a pixelated spectra of black to blue. I clutched my eye. Out of one, I could see the world just fine; out of the other, a digitized fever dream, where the people’s faces… oh, no. Oh, god. Oh my god. Were… were those even people?!

Their eyes were hollow pearls of black, their mouths slit crescents. Every single one of their limbs were sickly slim, spindly. The shapes of their faces were from the deepest pits of hell, twisted in ways that shouldn’t exist; that couldn’t exist; and from their unmoving teeth came a great gnashing that shook me to my core. The only things human about them were their words, but they didn’t come from their mouths; it was like they were projected straight into my mind. As if their words were my thoughts.

“Oh shit. Hold on.” I heard the AI say, but as if through several layers of film. She sounded distant, ethereal, otherworldly. I barely saw her bring up the panel again, her fingers dancing across the interface at lightning speed. Her teeth were grit, brows furrowed; she tried to make it look like nothing, but she was clearly having some sort of trouble.

I was in a forest, in a sky full of dead stars. The husks of trees clawed towards the black night, their branches outstretched, as if reaching for a hand. I couldn’t see past them – only the ‘people.’ One of them extended their root-like arms, tendrils grasping through the air, to me. To me. It curled around my thin legs, and it scraped against my shins like coarse metal. More came. Wounding around my arms. My chest. Advancing towards my face. I heard every beat of my heart, pounding, shattering my ear drums. I would’ve convulsed at each beat, had I not been restrained. Every single cell in my body cried in anguish, in fear; but I let it happen. After all, what could I do?

“And… Done.”

It all faded away. The glitching. The forest. Those… things. But the people were still there. And one of them was in my face – that girl from earlier.

“Excuse me.” She chimed. Her voice was high, but soft. “Could you please hurry up? I’m… kind of in a rush.”

“Don’t.” The AI’s voice was like a blade’s edge, bleeding at the touch of my skin. Tense. “Do. Not. Panic. It’s an error in the occipital lobe. I’ll have it fixed soon. Just remain calm.”

I heard the words. I heard them, and yet… It’s as if I didn’t. She might as well have been speaking to a brick wall. To nobody.

My head tilted down. The girl looked no older than seventeen. She was small, and it looked like it took all she had to hack out those words to me. To talk to this embarrassing, shameful loser. This aberrant of society; to talk to me. It was probably the most effort she’d ever put into anything in her life. When she went home, she had a family that loved her; that told her, “Good work today!” Or, “We’re so proud of you!” Or, get this: “I love you.” What a joke. A fucking joke. Those eyes, filled with dreams – she’d had no idea how quickly they could come crashing down. How quickly the world could turn against her. And I doubt she’d ever know. How could she? She was born lucky. She was born with the world on her side.

I hated her.

I loathed her.

I despised her.

She said something else. I didn’t hear it. All I heard was a ringing in my ears, louder than the blast of a bullet, and the overlapping responses of resurging memories. She said something again. And again. She was making fun of me, I know it. That was the only reason someone would keep talking for this long. Keep looking for this long. All of them – all of them were making fun of me, weren’t they? Behind their phones, their contemptuous smiles, their jeers, their donkey-bray laughter, their narrowed eyes, the twisted sneers; behind everything. Everything. They were looking.

And I didn’t want them to look.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I screamed. The ringing in my ears fell quiet. The world went silent. Only the dying echoes of my voice, bouncing off the walls, remained – and even that ebbed into nothingness. My eyes were glued to the ground. I didn’t dare look back. “YOU’RE ALL– ALL–”

“All what?” The AI’s voice said. It was like ice hanging under a railing. Freezing – cold. Deathly so. “All looking down on you?”

I whipped around to her. The look on her face matched her voice. I clenched my teeth, making an angry gesture her way. “This is YOUR fault! Making me go out like this– Making a FOOL out of me– You’re just like everyone else! JUST like the REST– OF THESE BASTARDS!”

“You’re hopeless,” She said. “Turn around. Look at her. Can you really say that after looking at her face? Can you, after making a child cry?”

“I DON’T CARE!” I bellowed. When I screamed it again, I couldn’t even recognize my own voice. I only recognized the feeling of my chords vibrating in my throat. I don’t know how many times I yelled, but each time, I found my voice dying a little more, until it’d been reduced to nothing but a cross between a coarse whisper, the raspy wisp of a voice, and a sob. My anger had gone and left. I wish it hadn’t. Because if it hadn’t, at least I could’ve blamed the world again. If it hadn’t, I’d be able to look at that crying girl in the eye, spit in her face, and rampage out of the store. Instead, as our eyes locked, and I saw the tears welling on her face and the fear in her eyes, I felt my own bleeding onto my face; along with the shame. That poisonous, insidious shame – it came crashing on my back with the weight of a thousand mountains. The weight of seven billion pairs of eyes. Of hate-words – unsaid, but thoroughly, completely, unmistakably, understood.