When my story began, nothing pleased me more than my job as carer. I put all my energy into my donars, and they always did two times better and gave twice as many donations as the average donar. When my donars completed, I was never phased, nor did I feel any remorse, because I was rewarded with praise and the satisfaction of a job well-done. I was very proud of the few material possessions awarded to me in promotion, and my pending first donation did not worry me one bit. But when Tommy completed, something inside of me changed. The gears in my synthetic brain finally began to work, and with the deep sadness that came from the loss of the one man I had ever loved, came true enlightenment.
I had to leave: there was nothing for me there. My organs could not part with my body, for they were truly vital. I didn't want to complete, or to just accept my fate; I wanted to live. I packed a few of my belongings into a rucksack, making sure to bring enough supplies and money to sustain myself for a while, and as I rushed out of the door, I did not clock out. Instead, I ignored the fact that the bracelet was still clinging to my boney wrist. I hopped into my car, and drove as fast as I could until the needle on the fuel gauge pointed to empty. As the car slowed down, I found myself in the countryside: an open field to the left, and a small pond to the right. I steered my car into the field and climbed out, removing my license plate, tags, and registration. I walked towards the pond adjacent to the field, and tossed these items, along with my car keys and I.D., into its murky waters. I was ready to become someone new, but first I had to ensure that no one from this world would ever find me.
