When my mother had disappeared, no one had wanted to discuss it and it is because of this that I am still skeptical to the fact that they'd labelled her death as an accident. My father, of course, never wanted to talk about and I found it odd that even he wouldn't want closure. I knew he was aware of something I wasn't and it was annoying that he kept it from me all this time. My memories of her were few and blurry because I'd pushed them away out of sheer desperation over my grief at the time. It might have led to my own paranoia towards people in general as I always thought that they'd knew something that would answer my questions, but chose to keep it to themselves over the pathetic reason of trying to “protect” me. I'd rather have the truth than anything else when it came to that topic.
[Have I upset you?]
BlackSky: Has any more information stuck with you?
[Yes, does the phrase, Still Kept Young Eternally mean anything to you?]
I fell silent as I collected my thoughts. This was truly unreal and I hoped that this was a dream. I stood up and walked over to the window. Darek remained quiet behind me. I knew that he was looking at the screen, but I wasn't sure if he arrived to the same conclusion that I did. There was no way that this could be possible. If my mother's consciousness had been successfully implemented into data, I'd need to know how and why. The biggest issue with any transfer of the human mind would be the capacity it would have. How they would be able to pull something like this off was beyond me at the moment. Of course, the functions that a human requires to live wouldn't apply to a mere existence on a machine, but why would this happen without me knowing? I know I doubted the possibility even now and the conclusion was a mere guess, but at least I would have appreciated an answer back then.
“Are you okay?” Darek asked as he walked up behind me.
“I guess. I just figured out something. Possibly.”
“You should probably rest for now, it is getting late. I also have to get back before I get yelled that again.” He looked annoyed.
“Your parents yell at you?”
“Well, one of them does. They know the nights I work, but give me shit whenever I go anywhere else at that time.”
“My dad is always at work, so I don't have to deal with that sort of thing.”
“I guess what happened a few years ago doesn't help my reputation, either.” He sighed.
“Eh, I used to get into a lot of shit with people I shouldn't have been with in the first place.”
“So, you're a delinquent?”
“I was. When I moved back with my parents, I had no choice but to clean up my act. I've really done my best, but they still see me as no different than I was back then.” He looked bitter as he reminisced.
“Who says you need to prove anything to them?” I asked.
“I know I shouldn't care about what they think, but that very thought is what led me down that dark road. Even now, I can't even go back if this doesn't work out.”
“What exactly are you expecting, then? It's not going to go away on it's own.”
“Haha, I don't know why I'm telling you this.”
“Seems I'm not the only one who wishes for a change in their life.”