by Seall » Sat Aug 12, 2023 2:55 am
It might sound silly, but my greatest fear is social interaction. I guess that’s what doctors call “social anxiety”, but that takes away from the immense awkwardness and disordered social interactions I find myself in.
I pulled off my headset and blinked at the sudden adjustment my eyes had to make. It had been days before I last took it off. Being essentially bald underneath my metallic hair meant that I no longer had to shower so often. I was happier than I ever had been with my appearance. I did not regret removing my hair.
That day, I was to dress as “normal” as possible. I recalled my mother saying “why can’t you just be normal for once?” and “this isn’t what normal people wear”. For once, her advice was useful: I was wearing a white button down shirt with black fabric trousers, a juxtaposition of my usual reflective foil-like clothing. I rolled down my left sleeve in an effort to conceal my implanted screen.
Living in solitude for a while, you’d think I’d forgotten how to take care of myself, but my teeth beamed as bright white as the headset I had left lying on my bed. It was time to leave it all.
In one swift movement, my hand swivelled the lock anti-clockwise and my other latched onto the handle. I inhaled deeply and closed my eyes as I pushed down. The door creaked open and the noise of cars driving past flooded in. Instantaneously, I pulled the door handle towards myself, my heart beating fast.
I tried not to think of all the neighbours that would’ve been startled by my door even opening. I didn’t even think they were aware I existed. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I were to wake up one day to my house being toured by an estate agent and a couple with two children.
Alas, I was getting carried away again. I once again gripped onto the handle, but this time I made sure to open it slowly. Peering outside, none of my neighbours seemed to be there, with all their drives being empty. ‘Oh, right… people actually go to work’ I sheepishly thought. My shoulders relaxed slightly as I realised that maybe society hadn’t moved on completely in the span of a few months.
I edged out onto the concrete, my legs barely pulling apart from each other. When I looked up, I was almost at the pavement. Suddenly, a surge of adrenaline travelled along my spine and into my brain. Startled, I gripped my fence until I felt steady again. My chin lifted as my eyes travelled to the clouds in the sky. Was this the beginning of a new, open life?