Advent, Introduction
Introduction
I did it not out of will, but out of my creator's whim. Fifteen years ago I was born unto this planet with the face, the body, the voice of a human. For fifteen years I lived the life of a human, spoke to humans, lived with humans, used human inventions, and became friends with humans. I now knew that I was destined to betray them.
It was April, a Wednesday as I recall. An overcast sky hung over the city like a veil of sadness, keeping the beautiful blue hue and shining bright sun from my eyes. I remember taking the bus out from my place of education, the giant metal cage moving clumsily through the streets. The idea was in my head, and I couldn't feel the uncomfortable seat beneath my rump, or the waft of the bitter breeze against my face. That day was when I finally realized that I would have to knock the walls down around me, every last one of them. Three months from that day, I wouldn't be able to see my human parents, friends, or enemies; I would have to make new ones from what came forth.
The genes of a human expressed my arced nose, my thin face, strong legs, light frame, long fingers, brown eyes, brown hair, I remember my features well as I sit here looking at my past self in a photograph. But there were other genes there, ones that nobody knew of; humanity had two choices: kill every last particle of my DNA, or I would kill every last one of them. Of course, that was how I saw it then. I'm not sure if I really would have gone through with it, at least on my part that is.
A bell sounded on the bus, as a stop was requested and another person disembarked. The young man that stepped off was my age, coming only from that I knew him somehow. I saw him in one of my classes, maybe gym or another class where I didn't really know anybody. Of course, I may just be growing old, and when age enters, names leave, (along with numerous other things I'm sure). Regardless, he was kind of cute, not to say I was homosexual or something of that sort. By cute, I mean somebody that the girls would go for. By my standards alone, I could only analyze, never consider. The day would never come when I would fall in love with a human. Damned creatures, spreading across the globe like a parasite, eating and destroying everything in their path. Foolish beings, reproducing for only self-satisfaction, not at all concerned with the grievance and burden they each place on their species. I hated that moment, seeing the utter waste of life granted to such an inferior species that had so much to live for.
The only other thing I vividly remember about that day is the dream I had. I have no idea what I had dreamed of when I awoke, but I remember the emotion now just as well as I did the moment I awoke. It was a combination of the deepest depression with the most joyful happiness one could ever experience. It wasn't a neurological anomaly or coincidence that the strange sensation befell me that night, it was providence. Setting the scene for what would happen, and what I would feel after the end had come, and until my end had come, as it so encroaches upon me as I write this memoir, no force of any god could shake me of it.
At school, we had filled out our applications for next years classes. I was talking to my friends about where they were going for driver's ed. My parents outlined to me our vacation to Las Vegas. College letters came to me, trying to convince me to enroll. Bush told us that it was a matter of time before we achieved peace in Iraq. The news predicted a dip in the economy come the fall months.
In mathematics, everything has a reason for why it is the way it is. Triangles have three sides, rectangles' angles add up to 360, vertical angles are equivalent. Same thing in life: none of us would get along with each other if our actions were unnamed and random. Purpose is what moves, what drives, what motivates everything. Things without purpose are destroyed, unseen, or inconsequential: an extra step in an equation that yields the same answer. I suppose I defied that law. On July 5, 2004, I had no rhyme or reason for what I did. No reason as to why I helped kill six billion people.