Alexia lives in a future world where people choose their appearance, then get transmitted into a file to live in a technological world forever. In this piece, I try to address how social media affects women’s views of themselves.
The electricity runs throughout my body, turning my veins neon blue. The feeling is exhilarating as it spreads everywhere. My hands explore my new-and-improved facial features. All of the liquid inside the syringe is injected in my veins. I waste no time pulling it out, but as I do, the same liquid shoots up from the bottom of the tank. I try to stop it, but I can’t find the source. I start to panic as it reaches my ankles. I don’t remember this happening in the transformation videos. I pound rapidly on the glass, but the robots just continue working. I try to yell at them to do something, but nothing changes. As the liquid fills half the tank the sirens go off. The bots only turn their attention to me now and finally begin to scramble for what I hope is a solution.
I don’t want to be here. I’ve dreaded my eighteenth birthday for this very reason. The whole idea of becoming a part of technology has scared me. An idiot named Klaus decided that instead of everyone hating their appearances, what if we chose what we wanted to look like? Sounds great, right? No. It was fine when it was just plastic surgery and it was optional. But this guy, he wanted it to be enforced for everyone—to implant technology into every human vein. Just one problem, no two people can look the same. So the features and skin tone options always change, not to mention you can’t choose your original features. However, people still didn’t like the way they looked, so what happens? Pills. When you start feeling insecure you take a pill, when you feel sad you take a pill, when you feel depressed you take a pill, when you’re feeling anything except euphoria, pop a pill. No one knows what’s in these pills, but hey, they make people happy.
This whole problem goes way back to the twenty-first century. Social media gave people a chance to hide and be someone they weren’t. They were able to see people from all over the world and envy them. But because they were hiding behind a screen they weren’t actually being seen. No one could tell if they were ugly or pretty. That ideal inspired that stupid idiot to create this Design Yourself law for all of society. Klaus became worshipped like a god. It would’ve been wiser for him to try to help people understand beauty lies within, but it’s too late for that now.
The liquid is almost at the top of the tank. Maybe this is what I get for hating this system so much. I take my last breath as I prepare myself to die. I’ve been raised like everyone else to love this day. The “Rebirth” is the official name. But I was fine with the way I looked. I didn’t want to change, but I didn’t have a choice. Maybe dying is freedom. I feel my lungs needing air, but there’s nowhere to go to get it. A robot with a giant drill comes up to the glass. My body starts to shake and I close my eyes as the bot begins drilling into the glass.
I open my eyes, but they immediately shut from the bright light above my head. They open slowly adjusting to the light. The smell of rubbing alcohol fills my nostrils. I’m in a hospital. Someone holds my hand and I follow their arm until I see them.
“Mom?” I ask, dryly surprised to see her here.
“Hi Alexia sweetie. You look beautiful.” She cups my cheek.
I’ve only seen and heard my parents through an iPad. I’ve waited all my life for this moment. I hope she’s here because I’m in heaven.
“I’m not dead?”
“Of course not, baby. You made it through Rebirth. You’re in Technotopia.” My heart breaks. I’m just a file in some department somewhere. My body is gone. I’m just digital makeup now. I look past her to see the window. My mouth drops as I see the tall buildings and hovering transportation. I can see the same blue electricity that ran through my veins in everything. I look at my mother and the room only to see that I can see it in her, too. The overexposure to the liquid has allowed me to see the currents running through everything here. “Sweetie, what is it?” My mother’s calm voice brings my attention back to her.
“Nothing,” I lie. “It’s just Technotopia is better in person,” I add to convince her.
“That’s what everyone says.” She smiles warmly. “Well, let’s take you home.” Home. My home is back out there. Back in the real world, but it’s too late to go back there now, so I nod and sit up. She helps me to my feet as I accept my fate. I’m forever stuck in a mask of a false reality, far from understanding the truth of beauty.