Warped Perception

It's hard to fathom which is worse; all the torture I've received throughout my scholastic career (and being that I'm eighteen and graduating in less than a month, it is quite extensive) or the sheer unadulterated complete and blatant mockery of the absolute ignoring of every word I say by this uninterested collection of people known as the Young Inventors Commission from Ingenious Ingenuities? A group whose sole purpose is to find and locate upcoming inventors to help Ingenious Ingenuities stay on the cutting edge of technology. A group who had the foresight to hold an Inventors Exhibition to encourage young inventors to come to them. A group who is supposed to have an open mind to all possibilities that are presented to them. A group who - Oh look, the guy on the far left, a Mr. Richards, actually moved, albeit to yawn. Seriously, why have a fair if all you're going to do is play games on your phone, like Mr. McNally, or take a nap as the Ms. Trapper on the right was doing?

"We've heard enough, kid," the guy in the middle, Mr. Penterly held up his hand. "Why don't you come back when your older than twelve."

"I'm eighteen... I"

"You're not even in college," Mr. Penterly interrupted. "And you don't have any trials to back up your claims."

Did this guy really think I could just perform tests in my bedroom? Perhaps he thought I had a colony of lab rats in my Mom's basement? "But..."

"Next," Mr. Penterly called, and then went back to looking at his phone. "Come back when your older. This is an exhibition meant for serious inventors, Mr... ah..."

"Jeremiah. Jeremiah Willingham."

"Whatever." Mr. Penterly finalized our meeting by waving me along.

I gathered my Star Wars helmet with the blast shield permanently fixed down, taking care to fold the rear connected injector needle with attached microchip (similar to what you would put into your pet to locate them if lost) inward as to not cut myself and made my way toward the exit.

I take it back; this was definitely worse than all the torment I suffered throughout my school years. Those people I don't give a crap about, but this? This was my future. My way of helping my Mom out as well as the only way I'd be able to afford to go to college. I have good grades, above average grades, really, but that is only against my classmates at Hilldale High. But compared to the rest of the state and even more so the country, or as I like to call; actual students, I wasn't getting any sort of scholarship. As I closed, and then re-closed, and then re-closed the door to my Mom's rusted, decrepit Ford Escort - like either of us could afford to fix the door - I couldn't help the tears.

Now, I can understand that Ingenious Ingenuities isn't exactly known for virtual reality gaming, but I still thought my simple design - helmet, shield to block out light, insert needle with attached preprogrammed microchip to manipulate data into the brain with the desired information; was fairly straightforward and something that could open up possibilities outside of games - and therefore be of interest to Ingenious Ingenuities. I was clearly mistaken.

As far as flaws go, there were only a couple, and I would deem them minor, though Mr. Penterly made it seem like they were the equivalent to climbing Mt. Everest. First of all, was durability - I mean I did make it out of a Star Wars toy after all. Secondly was player interaction. All Non Player Characters were either myself or my Mom - A complete lack of a social life really narrowed down the people I could ask to program in their information for the game. Third, the selection of games I created for the device was small to say the least - three. That's it. I had a racing game (Mom and I are your opponents), a one level fantasy game (I'm the evil boss and my Mom is a Fairy that guides you), and a relationship simulator - one where a female gets to date a male character and when it progresses far enough, it can even lead into sexual acts. It could have easily been a female character, but I was not about to have my Mom be defiled in any way, virtual or not. I only created the last game to show all possibilities, and perhaps open other venues to wanting my device. Lastly, were the lack of test subjects - Like I was qualified to insert anything into anyone. But that was it. That was why I was demonstrating my concept to a multi-billion dollar company.

Only to be turned down because I was too young?

Without even consideration?

My hopes...

My dreams...

I was heartbroken.

*

"All right class," Ms. Johnson, my smoking hot, red haired, hour glass figure, Life Management teacher announced. "To finish the school year we are going to have a team project in which the pair of you will have to determine the long term care of..."

Oh Dear God... Ms. Johnson held up a baby.

"This baby has the same weight as a real baby, needs to be fed, nurtured, and cries, so have fun. And seniors; this will count as your final exam."

I just hung my head.

"Partners for this wonderful experiment are up to you. We have twelve girls and twelve boys in here so I now pronounce you husbands and wives!"

It didn't take long for my partner to be decided for me. Kiara Marchant... the only other person to not even bother to get up and find a partner.

Not that I could blame her. Kiara was a Goth girl who was into anime... Or she was an anime girl who dressed as her favorite Goth characters - Who could really say? She had shoulder length hair that I assumed was naturally black, but was dyed to a very un-natural color of it that also had purple and light blue dye highlighted into it. She wore black lipstick and matching eye shadow, and had her ears pierced several times along with a matching one in her nose. She didn't run in the same crowd as - well, anyone, really.

"C'mon Jeremiah," Ms. Johnson smiled. "Go sit with Kiara."

It was a lonely walk to the other side of the classroom. All eyes were on me and gossip was flowing between making fun of me for being with the "weird Goth girl," feeling bad for the outcast for being stuck "with the nerd," or piling on both of us saying we were a "perfect match."

I was uncomfortable, to say the least, when I finally arrived. "Hey, Kiara," I squeaked out her name, barely above a whisper.

Kiara just stared at me, as if sizing up my intentions.

I had no idea what to say to Kiara as I plopped into the chair next to her.

"I expect a paper laying out your plans for your marriage, how you plan on raising your child, as well as your combined futures. It should be detailed with financial culpabilities as well as who handles simple household chores. I'm leaving you the rest of this hour to get a general outline accomplished, but as you leave, one member of your marriage must take your child with them."

Well, that helps with the "what to say" dilemma. "So, are your parents married?"

Kiara stared at me carefully, what she was looking for, I was unsure... "Whatever fucking jokes or snide asshole comments ya want to say about me, just fucking forget it. I heard them all before and I don't need to hear them again."

"Uh..." I stammered as I tensed up.. That was defensive and uncalled for, but after hearing our classmates be complete imbeciles, oddly understandable. I took a breath and tried again, "So, are your parents married?"

Kiara seemed taken aback before she hesitantly answered, "Yeah." She was obviously waiting for the punch line.

"Okay," I chuckled. "Mine aren't, so why don't you tell me what you know about your parents. Do they both work?"

Kiara's defenses seemed to crumble, just at the knowledge that at the very least, I wanted to work on our assignment. "Yeah, my Mom is a real estate agent and my Dad is in construction. They like to say, "He builds 'em, she sells 'em."

It was a good hour. We didn't delve into each others personal lives, but we didn't need to either, though I did get the impression that her Mother and her were not close. We just worked well together. Kiara was willing to work on the project with me and I with her. That was enough. Besides, Ms. Johnson seemed more concerned with the financial aspect of the relationship as well as stressing our "child" so that was where we concentrated our efforts. Yes, it was a good hour.

"All right everyone," Ms. Johnson clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Five minutes until the bell and I have twelve children who need a mommy and a daddy up here."

Kiara and I looked at each other. Honestly, I don't think she cared, and I know I didn't, but how to decide?

"Okay," Kiara gave a knowing smile. "I'll take it today, but I have somewhere to be tonight at eight-thirty... Can I drop it off with ya tonight? Around six? That way it will give us time to plan out a babysitting schedule."

I stood as I heard the bell. "That sounds good me to me." I wrote my address on the inside of her notebook, "See you tonight."

*

I don't know what is more surprising; A girl at my front door or my child at my front door? Or what's the math on a girl and my a child at the front door? But since all I can see is the girl's head, does that take away some of the cumulative property?

Kiara was decked out in baby gear. Our child sat in some sort of baby backpack - or should I say baby front pack? - it had a pacifier, teething ring, and a rattle hanging from various points of it from little yellow and red plastic chain links. She was also carrying a diaper bag with old issues of parenting and baby magazines and she was holding it in such a way - all I could see of my fictitious, blushing bride was her head and her shoes.

Apparently my surprise was evident on my face as she almost laughed at my sight.

"My Mom was shittin' bricks when I came down from the attic with all my brothers old baby crap. She thought I was pregnant."

I chuckled at the announcement. "So what did she say when you told her the truth?"

"I didn't," Kiara shrugged. "She don't trust me, so I don't care."

"Oh." It was an involuntary, awkward response. Who am I to pry? I'm just her husband. "Well, come on in. Can I help you out with any of... that?" Kiara handed me the diaper bag. "I figure we can figure get this project done in my workshop in the basement. Follow me."

"Workshop? Basement?" Kiara raised her eyes?

"Yes, I do all my work down there." I half smiled, "It's quieter in the basement, though since my Mom's at work that don't really matter." My face scrunched as I then realized the error in my lie and went with the truth. "Okay, my room is a disaster right now. But I really do get more work done downstairs."

Kiara suppressed a laugh, "All right, lead the way."

The basement was a basement in the strictest sense of the word. It wasn't furnished, it was used for storage, and it did not have heat which made it much cooler than the rest of the house - I had to wear a insulated coat when I was down here in the winter. But my Mom did allow me about a third of the space. A couple un-matching barstool chairs each lined the three long, narrow tables I had, so I could freely move around as I worked on whichever project I was currently fascinated. I also had a beige couch, complete with several rips and tears, two very distinct throw pillows - one snot green and one pink, as well as a grey blanket, also with a tear in it, for when I fell asleep down here.

"Here, let me clear some space." I went to the first table and cleared enough of an area where we could work.

"And you say your room is a disaster?" Kiara laughed. "What is all this..." She hesitated as she thought of the right word, "stuff?"

I glanced around and I could see how nobody would possibly understand what this hurricane was supposed to be.

"Well, I like to create things - some useful, some... not." that was a major understatement. The next thing I build that would be useful will be the first.

"No shit?" Kiara was taken aback. "So, what have ya built?"

"Well, I invented these security sensors." I went to the far table and held two of the four small devices. "Put one sensor on the outside of each corner of your house, and if anybody disturbs the laser - Bam! - instant alarm."

"Cool," Kiara looked at me surprised.

"Yes, but the downfall is that it is not connected to anything so nobody is notified... That, and the neighbors hated it. Mrs. West's cat set the darn thing off and they forced me to take it down. It's not like Mrs. West needed car windows. It's a convertible for crying out loud."

Kiara laughed. A gut wrenching laugh.

"For three days, though, our house was really secure." I put down the device and went to another table. "And this one is meant to be a virtual reality gaming system."

"What?" Kiara lit up. "Really?"

"Absolutely," I smiled at how excited she was at one of my inventions. "It's actually easy. Put your desired gaming chip in here," I picked one up with a pair of tweezers and demonstrated before putting it back with the others in the small padded jewelry box. "You then put on the helmet, flip the switch, brace yourself for the small prick of the needle, and voila! - You are now playing a game virtually." I carefully set the contraption down. "Well, that's how its intended, but the big wigs at the Inventors Exhibition weren't interested.." I then mumbled the line that still haunted me, "Too young."

Despite her excitement, Kiara noticed my melancholy. She gave off a saddened, "Oh." She thought for a moment before adding, "Does it work?"

"Theoretically." I shrugged my shoulders. "Just haven't been able to test it. My Mom, though supportive, isn't willing to be my guinea pig to any of my inventions."

"Well then, screw those big wigs," Kiara adamantly protested. "Adults suck." She then gave a half chuckle, "So, what should we name our child?"

We were a very productive pair; so much so that all we felt we needed to do was write the paper. We named our child Ciel, after some anime Kiara loves, we lined up a babysitting schedule balancing around her anime club and my part time bus boy/ dishwasher job and even hammered out all the details for what our careers would be and a run down of potential bills we'd have to pay. Dividing the household chores was even easier. Of all the girls to be paired with, Kiara and I definitely made a great husband and wife.

"Is that what time it is?" I couldn't help but be amazed at how time flew by. An hour and forty minutes had passed and it felt like twenty minutes.

"Yup," Kiara smiled. "But no worries, I still have, like forty-five minutes before my anime club meets. I can be late for that if it means getting this done."

"Well, if that's the case, let me make us some dinner. How about..." And this is where my adolescent mind wanted to show off, "I make a pizza for dinner."

"Cool," Kiara smiled. "Where ya ordering from?"

I grinned a beaming smile. "No, I said make. Besides, I'm too broke to order anything. I'm actually going to cook a pizza, and I don't mean just heating up a frozen one, either."

"You cook?"

"Give me thirty minutes," I turned to walk upstairs before pausing at the stairwell. "Pepperoni and mushroom all right?"

Kiara scrunched her nose, "Not a big mushroom fan. Can it be just pepperoni? Or can ya make it a half and half?"

"Of course!" I practically jumped up the stairs, taking two to three steps each time.

I'm cooking food for a girl.

That's not my Mom.

Miracles can happen.

I do understand, however, that nothing will come of this faux relationship. But still, its nice to have someone to come over, and despite it being about homework, to have a conversation. Add the fact that it's a girl? Never in my eighteen years have I fathomed having a girl willingly converse with the class nerd. Regardless of duration, it really is nice.

The smell of garlic and basil was permeating through the kitchen. Pulling the pizza from the oven, I knew I had outdone myself. The aroma was fantastic. The toppings, meticulously located, appeared to be a work of art. The simmering grease was almost sparkling - okay, that last one went a little overboard, but still, I found myself truly hoping Kiara liked it.

As I went to cut my Mona Lisa, I heard a blood curdling shriek.

"AHHHHH!"

The scream was so unexpected, it took the briefest of moments for me to react. I dropped the pizza cutter and sprinted down the basement stairs.

"Kiara, are you all right?"

I reached the bottom step only to see Kiara lying in the fetal position, whimpering by the table.

"Kiara, what happened?" I kneeled down, and tentatively reached out to her. I hesitated right before the point of contact; not having broken the touch barrier with her I was unsure, but quickly realized that this wasn't the time for hesitation. I put my hand on her shoulder, "Kiara?" I lightly shook her, "Are you all right?"

Kiara creaked her eyes open, "Jeremiah? Is that really you?" She closed her eyes, "AHHHHH!" Her eyes flew back open, "What the fuck is happening to me?"

"Just tell me what happened?"

Kiara grasped at her head, tears in her eyes, "I... I... I tried your game. And... And... And..."

"Kiara," I interrupted. "Look at me." Her eyes slowly drifted to meet mine. I smiled and nodded my approval. "Now take deep breaths," I started doing the same, creating a rhythm between us. "Good. It's over now. Everything's okay. Just keep breathing."

As Kiara followed my instructions, she calmed down. She even offered a faint smile. "Sorry about your gaming system. That was fucking intense - and it felt so real."

"I did say it wasn't tested yet."

Kiara looked to the right and I followed her gaze. Sure enough, a few feet away was my now cracked Star Wars helmet. I carefully let Kiara go and shifted to the device. It took a millisecond to see the damage as the helmet was cracked, but more importantly was that the switch for the needle was still in the "on" position. "How did you take it off?"

Kiara looked over at me, one hand failing to wipe the cascade of tears away. "I just took it off."

"But you didn't flip the switch," I moved closer to Kiara. "Let me see." I bent her head forward and sure enough, a pin prick of blood was escaping from the back of her neck. "It's just a little blood. I promise, you'll be fine."

"Ya sure?" Kiara's eyes were soft little pools on the verge of becoming an ocean.

I gave her a beaming smile, "I'm sure."

Kiara then did something completely unexpected. She leaned up and slowly, deliberately kissed my cheek. "Thank you."

Thank you? Thank you for what? I will never understand women.

Kiara saw my confusion and pulled back. "I should go."

I stood and held out my hand, "Yeah, you don't want to be late for your club."

Kiara gingerly placed her hand into mine, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Absolutely," I half smiled, still hoping she was all right. "But at least let me get you some pizza to go. Can't have my wife starving while watching anime."

Kiara put her hand to her lips, almost in an attempt to hide her slight giggle.

I grabbed all the baby stuff and followed Kiara upstairs.

*

"Very nice, Jeremiah," Ms. Johnson smiled as I walked into class.

The rest of the class openly laughed at the fact I had the baby strapped to my chest. Everyone else in the class seemed to have gone the route of not caring about the assignment. As I walked to my seat, I saw babies just laying on the their desks, one was holding their baby by the foot, and someone even had their baby stuck upside down in their backpack.

"And where is your baby Glenn and Harmony?" Ms. Johnson asked.

"Um, I left it at home," Glenn announced, before going back into his conversation with his friend, Thomas.

And then there was that... I weep for the future children of my classmates. However, if this project is graded on a curve, Kiara and I already have an A.