Emotional Cyborg

Essay by danie_lHigh School, 10th gradeA-, August 2004

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I have been labeled Experiment B61 - no name, no personality, no individuality.

I am insignificant to the Cyborgs. My cell is bare and dark- no light, no space, no freedom. I have been imprisoned. I cannot relate to the time of day, the darkness surrounds my 'body' like an evil mist, and I breathe smell of sterilized air through my artificial nasal passages. I am constantly facing unearthly torment. My clothes are in uniform with the other experiments: a bright red overall, so the Cyborgs are able to spot us easily, or maybe even to cover the blood stains. Each day is repetitious- food, exercise, sleeping and...surgery. The only thing that keeps me human is my heart...literally (and only half of it). The Cyborgs have replaced all my other body parts with tubes and cords, allowing me to survive...even

though I wish otherwise. Although I live in filth and hostility, the real origin of my continuous torture is the missing piece of my heart- my soul, my love...Eve.

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Sector P-3 had lost to the Cyborgs. I was the commander of this final human outpost, and our entire team was trapped by the metallic demons. We were forced to surrender our technology to the Cyborgs, and feared for our lives. I was the leader- the Cyborgs quickly uncovered my high rank, and forced me to stand out next to the bulky, iron body of the Neo-Borg: a Cyborg Leader. This is when I saw, for the first time, the disfigured shape of the Cyborgs. They had no eyes, no nostrils, but rust and wires, twisting out from every socket. The...