said as she glanced
back at me over her shoulder.
I scratched my head, hating the feeling of the hair that I knew
wasn’t mine. “There’s nothing to tell really. I was made, I
endured, I escaped, and here I am.”
“Do you ever plan on going back?” she asked.
The thought honestly hadn’t crossed my mind. I had no desire
to go back to London’s hell, but I remember the silent promise I
67
Unwound
had made to myself to go back for the Other. Still. I wasn’t going to trust Morrison with that; not yet anyway.
I shook my head.
She stopped walking and eyed me for a moment. For the first
time since I was constructed, I didn’t look away from a being that was trying to read me. I forced myself to stand up straight and not have the slight hunch that London had given me with her cruel
actions and malicious words.
“I have no need to go back,” I said in as steady as a voice as I
could manage.
“Not even for her to finish you?” she inquired.
“London will never finish me. She never finished any of us. I
say us because I’m sure I couldn’t be the only one she ever made.
Take care of the way you speak of London; kind words are
nothing if not wasted on describing someone as lost in lunacy and
delirium as her. Kind words wouldn’t save you from her if you
ever have the misfortune of meeting her,” I said quietly.
Morrison shrugged and pulled me along next to her, “She
seems interesting enough, though. I mean I can never understand
what you went through with her and I’m not saying this because I
think what she did was a good idea or anything, but looking at
you tells me what kind of genius she is. To make life out of
68
Unwound
nothing is not simple I would imagine and to be quite honest with
you if I had never heard you ticking in the factory and lifted your eye patch, I never would have expected you to be anything other
than a young man who had gone through a harrowing ordeal with
battle scars that prove his worth.”
My mind wandered off to Finnegan for a moment. She too
had battle scars only I didn’t know what kind of battle she had
been through. She didn’t hide her face from the world as I did.
When she approached me, she did so with an amazing confidence
for something that looked so young and fragile. I would be
haunted by her confidence and her face for the rest of my life, but I would also try to mimic her and try to build myself up to not be afraid of anything, and that included London.
Morrison and I walked through the streets until the sun started
to come up again. As she pointed out things here and there I kept
thinking of how I just might be able to muster up enough courage
to go back to London’s home.
Cars whirred past us and more than once she had to pull me
back from the crossroads onto the sidewalk so that I wouldn’t be
injured. I couldn’t help it though, my mind was elsewhere and it
showed.
As the sky started to show that beautiful lavender and orange
serenade it had the previous morning, she guided me back to the
69
Unwound
factory. I didn’t say a word to her. Instead I left her pulling the wooden boards back over the opening so no one else would enter
and I made my way back up to the room I had taken for myself on
the third floor.
I dragged the bed from where it had sat by the window to a
darker corner near the mirror and laid down. As I stared into my
own face, my thoughts were erratic.
Maybe Morrison sees London as a genius because she’s had
the same tendencies.
Maybe she’s keeping me here to lure London out.
Maybe I should’ve followed Finnegan.
Maybe I should’ve set London’s home on fire.
Maybe I wasn’t real, but that didn’t mean I could be
programmed to feel could I?
Maybe I could teach myself new emotions.
Maybe I could make myself stronger.
My eyes had started to close as the thoughts raced through my
mind. With as erratic as they were I knew these were my own
thoughts and not borrowed.
I
back at me over her shoulder.
I scratched my head, hating the feeling of the hair that I knew
wasn’t mine. “There’s nothing to tell really. I was made, I
endured, I escaped, and here I am.”
“Do you ever plan on going back?” she asked.
The thought honestly hadn’t crossed my mind. I had no desire
to go back to London’s hell, but I remember the silent promise I
67
Unwound
had made to myself to go back for the Other. Still. I wasn’t going to trust Morrison with that; not yet anyway.
I shook my head.
She stopped walking and eyed me for a moment. For the first
time since I was constructed, I didn’t look away from a being that was trying to read me. I forced myself to stand up straight and not have the slight hunch that London had given me with her cruel
actions and malicious words.
“I have no need to go back,” I said in as steady as a voice as I
could manage.
“Not even for her to finish you?” she inquired.
“London will never finish me. She never finished any of us. I
say us because I’m sure I couldn’t be the only one she ever made.
Take care of the way you speak of London; kind words are
nothing if not wasted on describing someone as lost in lunacy and
delirium as her. Kind words wouldn’t save you from her if you
ever have the misfortune of meeting her,” I said quietly.
Morrison shrugged and pulled me along next to her, “She
seems interesting enough, though. I mean I can never understand
what you went through with her and I’m not saying this because I
think what she did was a good idea or anything, but looking at
you tells me what kind of genius she is. To make life out of
68
Unwound
nothing is not simple I would imagine and to be quite honest with
you if I had never heard you ticking in the factory and lifted your eye patch, I never would have expected you to be anything other
than a young man who had gone through a harrowing ordeal with
battle scars that prove his worth.”
My mind wandered off to Finnegan for a moment. She too
had battle scars only I didn’t know what kind of battle she had
been through. She didn’t hide her face from the world as I did.
When she approached me, she did so with an amazing confidence
for something that looked so young and fragile. I would be
haunted by her confidence and her face for the rest of my life, but I would also try to mimic her and try to build myself up to not be afraid of anything, and that included London.
Morrison and I walked through the streets until the sun started
to come up again. As she pointed out things here and there I kept
thinking of how I just might be able to muster up enough courage
to go back to London’s home.
Cars whirred past us and more than once she had to pull me
back from the crossroads onto the sidewalk so that I wouldn’t be
injured. I couldn’t help it though, my mind was elsewhere and it
showed.
As the sky started to show that beautiful lavender and orange
serenade it had the previous morning, she guided me back to the
69
Unwound
factory. I didn’t say a word to her. Instead I left her pulling the wooden boards back over the opening so no one else would enter
and I made my way back up to the room I had taken for myself on
the third floor.
I dragged the bed from where it had sat by the window to a
darker corner near the mirror and laid down. As I stared into my
own face, my thoughts were erratic.
Maybe Morrison sees London as a genius because she’s had
the same tendencies.
Maybe she’s keeping me here to lure London out.
Maybe I should’ve followed Finnegan.
Maybe I should’ve set London’s home on fire.
Maybe I wasn’t real, but that didn’t mean I could be
programmed to feel could I?
Maybe I could teach myself new emotions.
Maybe I could make myself stronger.
My eyes had started to close as the thoughts raced through my
mind. With as erratic as they were I knew these were my own
thoughts and not borrowed.
I
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