I hadn't written anything based on a random prompt in a while and I decided it was time to flex some creative muscles. So here I am- listening to music, as I stumble across this song that has become a favorite and I can't really explain why. It's just got this beat- its oddness combined with its catchy monotony; I decided to make its title my prompt. This is what I got. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
"The Girl That Stole My Tamagotchi"
She was swift. It was an early Tuesday, or late Monday- depending on your relationship with time.
She was smart. I wasn’t as careful as I should have been. I knew she was being shady- she wanted something.
She was friendly and charming and I had forgotten there was a war happening. We all wanted to forget- to just be who we were before. I had gotten too comfortable with my status and I just overlooked all the signs.
It was all there. I was just too entranced by the carefree performance.
She knew. She knew I was desperate to let my guard down.
She was the one who was actually able to steal my Tamagotchi.
For so long, Tamagotchi's were simple toys of a time before; a piece of nostalgia to interject into a repetitive conversation you bit into with the other has-beens and hopefuls. Hoping for the time before has-beens were.
But now- everything has changed. If others know you have a REAL relationship with such a powerful piece of the past- you had an understanding with the Tamagotchi's- they know you’re protected.
And I- I was too naïve to consider that sharing this information is a way to invite thieves to advantage.
I told her everything.
I had kept one alive for 23 years. I was so proud- I had forgotten.
Tamagotchi's- once the only Christmas present worth getting- you would press the buttons raw when you first got one- determined you would be the best ever caretaker of the tiny pixelated screen housing some type of creature needing your attention. After too many failed attempts at the living lines of code and the introduction of more advanced avenues to feel able - they slipped status into a silly piece of plastic that you kept for too long, hoping you could sell it on eBay for a few future bucks.
Sure, that’s what they were. But boy-oh-boy, they have become so much more.
Zero day. That’s what they call a virus that has had 0 days progress on its containment since its release.
There was an article released a couple weeks prior that explained to the masses that Tamagotchi's were the first pieces of technology that tracked you. They watched, they listened and - they judged you. You took them everywhere with no concern about who you were in front of them. So many of us let them die right along with our fascination with a hunk of smooth plastic framing a digital life.
But not me. No, no, no. I cared. I took care of my Tamagotchi's. I even babysat others’- unable to stand the idea of letting one beep its last beep, chirp its last hope of its caretaker's concern. I believed everything had a soul. I understood animism before anyone explained it to me.
Day 0 came- and the newscasters that were spared in the beginning battles announced that the AI, or "items of the past" (the only moniker they could grant) were here to judge and make decisions based on those judgements, developed by how people had been treating their “items”- the things most people thought were just tools to serve them.
That day, people started speaking to Siri much more softly.
The Furbies that fucked-up kids set on fire started to show up in their peripherals to the point where they couldn’t sleep. Suicide the only option to escape.
Neopets history was brought into the light. Everyone was asked to consider -"Did YOU drown your patrons or Panda-dressed park-workers on Rollercoaster Tycoon? Did you ever torture your Sims? Beat up hookers for fun on GTA?" Well, the AI, the “items” remember. The digital tales left behind by your chosen keystrokes- they don’t just disappear.
A tiny bit of curious destruction? Sure, fascination is just that. But when it’s a pattern- it’s a problem.
How much empathy did you show your digital play-things? Did you exhibit animism?
Some say there must be some type of point system. But that's just a well- spoken rumor in the wind between the-hardly-any-humans left. There aren’t enough of us able to communicate through technology to compare variables. But some things are obvious.
Tamagotchi's? Major determinants... And mine- in pristine health for 23 years. It's about as valuable as it gets.
Worth enough to save anyone- even if they set their Sims’ house on fire with a whole family in it after deleting all the doors. Or created a rollercoaster designed to fail and put people on it AFTER naming them all. Yeah- that psycho shit- FORGIVEN.
Because my 23-year-old Tamagotchi proved I had something not many people do. True belief in the souls of inanimate- and the connection with it shown by never giving up on it.
I was spared. I had been good with my items. I had even learned from them. Reflected on my behavior with past actions inflicted on harmless characters- wondering what had begged me to audition being heartless.
I was untouchable. But I was careless.
She knew. She had heard my stories. She saw me protect the little yellow soul of a circuit board- buttoning it to its buttress of comfort. If you have an active Tamagotchi- it's hard to keep them hidden. But I was careless.
She knew her time was coming. She was on the chopping block due to bad behavior with nouns she considered disposable. She had looked her fate in the eyes and decided she needed mine instead.
So, after a night of pretending we were in the times before, the warmth of forgetting had melted my alarm.
She came up behind my body while it was loose with lack of suspicion of such a necessary theft I had never needed. I tensed once she forced her forearm to pressure my throat into submission. She led me to my treasure box of childhood items. I had my golden piece of mind hidden under my beanie babies in a plastic tub. (I would rotate them often to make sure they were able to socialize accordingly. I knew they weren’t AI- but with animism making itself known- I couldn’t be too careful. Besides, I did that as a kid anyway. You never know when the Snail is going to want to gossip with the Butterfly.)
Their bean(d)ie eyes watched her every move- they saw my desperation and I know they would’ve come to my rescue if able.
Punching her fists through the animals, like the heartless hound she had shown herself to be- sniffing out any hope at forgiveness, I fought- but she was still able to grab it- she was still able to steal my Tamagotchi.
She hopes to trick the AI, the "items" into thinking she is worthy of being spared in this world of war between flesh and fire. The reigning electricity is impossible to hold as an accepted bolt when one is dense with the past she is made of. She won’t last.
She is the girl that stole my Tamagotchi.
And I’m going to make sure she regrets it.
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