By Kaitlyn Carter Brown
Tamara stood on tiptoe and flipped the switch on the flickering Open sign, officially closing Reused Realities to the public. When it came to repairing and refurbishing virtual reality systems, Tamara needed interruptions at a minimum. Besides, switching between the real world and the virtual almost always jeopardized her productivity.
She grabbed a box full to bursting of VR tech—older, clunky helmets and sleek, sophisticated goggles and glasses—and maneuvered her way to the back of the shop. Tamara plopped herself down in the comfiest chair and began to pick through the box.
“These were all donated together,” she mumbled to herself. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
She selected a pair of goggles and adjusted the lenses. The tech, reacting to her body’s heat, hummed to life. Tamara checked the system’s data.
“No bugs or glitches. Looks like they’re in good condition.”
Then she ran the program.
The screens before her eyes pixelated, then rearranged themselves into a picturesque sight—a pristine beach with white sands, swaying palms, and gentle waves of the clearest blue.
“Quality system here.” Tamara smiled. She could almost feel the crisp, ocean air on her face.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
She was not alone.
Tamara jerked her head, shifting her viewpoint to the glade of palms behind her. A figure stood there, barefoot, dressed in a flowing sundress. Her hair was silver and her face lightly wrinkled, but the woman held herself in such a way that almost seemed ageless.
“Waiting? For me?”
A shiver crept up Tamara’s spine, reminding herself that she sat solitary in the shop after hours. She rarely encountered independent avatars in these sorts of recreational systems, used mostly for world-building and experiencing sensations like flying, swimming, or extreme roller coasters.
Whoever owned these knew a thing or two.
The woman moved closer. She turned and stared at the horizon. “I knew you would come.”
“Okay,” Tamara muttered. “Weird.”
But on the rare occasions that Tamara did encounter an independent avatar, she found it best to let them lead. Engage with them. Get inside their programmer’s head.
“Would you like to run my program?” the avatar inquired.
“Sure. Let’s do this.”
Immediately, the serene beach faded away with a blinding flash. Immediately, tiled floors and white halls filled the scene which was populated by beeping machines and gurneys with squeaky wheels.
Tamara shuddered, remembering childhood fears related to dreaded hospital visits for shots or medicines. “Okay, not what I was expecting from a virtual world.”
Like her surroundings, the woman had also changed. Now, her skin was pale and gaunt, and a hospital gown hung from bony shoulders.
“Not all worlds are beautiful,” she said softly.
“Yeah, but most fake ones are.”
The avatar heaved a despondent sigh. “What we create often reflect ourselves—our experiences, joys, and often our deepest pains. They act as catalysts, starting points.”
A teaching avatar?
But what was the point of the lesson—particularly for Tamara, who just happened to be the one exploring the program?
A shrill voice shrieked from down one of the hospital halls. In the real world, Tamara nearly jumped out of her chair. The woman’s face darkened, and then she turned her eyes skyward.
Instantly, the hospital faded away, replaced by a burst of navy. No ground lay beneath their feet and no sky above, but around them burst thousands of shimmering stars. Comets streaked. Nebulous clouds danced with every color imaginable. Planets spun in perfect orbits.
“Wow,” breathed Tamara.
Smiling, the avatar stretched her arms wide, free falling through the sea of lights. Health returned to her limbs, and now she was clad in shimmering blue. “This is where my pain took me… to the stars. Do not let my work be in vain.”
“You? You’re just an avatar.” Tamara frowned. Suddenly, things clicked into place. “Hey, what’s your name?”
Floating closer, her arms moving as if she tread in water, the woman’s smile turned into a mischievous grin. “Me? I thought I was just an avatar.”
“Who made you?”
A comet whizzed past them, causing the woman’s hair to glint gold. “My name is Jocelynn Morales.”
But Tamara wasn’t sure which question the avatar was answering.
In the real world, she reached a hand up and powered down the VR. Blinking away the starry night and all of its glory, Tamara pushed the goggles off her face.
She glanced down at the pile of tech. Lifting the box’s flaps, she glanced at the donation slip that had been taped there. A handwritten note was posted beside it, written in the barely-legible scrawl of her boss:
Hey Tam, check these for bugs and make sure they’re sent to the children’s cancer clinic down the street.
A tear escaped Tamera’s eye. She hadn’t expected to take part in changing the world when she entered the shop, but that’s exactly what had happened. A small part, but a worthwhile one. Wiping it from her cheek, she again donned the goggles and returned to the peaceful beach where Jocelynn stood waiting.
“Jocelynn didn’t create these worlds for herself, did she?” Tamara asked.
The avatar shook her head. “Jocelynn is no longer with us, as she programmed me to say. These worlds were built by her, but not for her.”
Tamara smiled. “For others. For children.”
As the avatar’s eyes turned toward the horizon again, her eyes seemed to fill with the sun’s illumination. “For those who suffer, that they might see beauty—and learn to create.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A moving story. Thank you for sharing it.
Thank you!
That was sweet. Seems like Tamara’s boss is a pretty stand-up person.
Thanks for reading! I know I’d love a boss like that.
Poignant. I like what you did here. I had to go back and skim the story to make sure I really got it. The set up was so subtle.
I was thinking perhaps the woman was herself in the future or something, so I really liked what you did with the story. It was unexpected and pulled on the heartstrings.
Good job!
Thank you for your support! Yeah I’d never discount time travel as a possibility ;)
This is a nice one, I was expecting a trap, but my mind is congenitally twisted.
Haha awesome! Thank you!
This made me think of Sword Art Online. Awesome job.
Sweet story, Kaitlyn! I love how it took me to a future time (which I always love) but then when we find out what’s happening, it’s so within reach and relevant. Any of us could do something special for someone in pain, or for children in the hospital–right now–and this story makes me want to.
Thank you for your beautiful words :) it’s the little things that add up to big things :)