I still find it difficult to forgive you for making your father send his servant Eliezer to arrange a marriage between us. That’s just sick. You lusted after me and traced me after a few chats while we played Fortnight online, and that’s creeper material right there. My brother Laban tortured me after that, and I finally ran away and found the androids. I decided to become a pretty little misfit and have my veins and arteries removed and replaced my wires and blue blood. I’m now officially an android.
I should let you suffer, but in some sense, you helped liberate me and find my tribe. And I know that deep down you’re a misunderstood kid yourself. A spoiled, rich kid but misunderstood. I can only imagine what dreaming in 3D is like. Hell, I smoke a blunt now and then, but it’s a feel-good trip. You, however, both have cherubic visions and nightmarish ones of Hades. So, deep down you’re suffering, and I can’t leave you there.
So, I’ve gathered the misfits, and we’re coming to the mountains because there’s a preacher who wants you and your father dead. We’re going to save you Isaac and help rehabilitate you, and I think nature isn’t going to save you as much as being one of us is.
When you read this, I want to you know that although you’re a twisted creep, I would betray myself if I didn’t save you and show you that it’s okay to be good, wild crazy. So, we’re coming for you Isaac, and we’ll fight the preacher by short-circuiting his dogmatic madness. We’ll blow apart his uni-dimensional bigotry and plant a flag of Androids and Anarchism.
P.S. This doesn’t mean that I love you. It just means that I care. So, please don’t get the wrong idea again.
© Nitin Lalit Murali (2018)