Disconnected

Dear Cirrus,

I'm sorry. I can't say that word enough times. I'm sorry for abandoning you, sorry for the things I said, and just sorry for everything. I don't deserve a friend like you, and you've done nothing – absolutely nothing – to deserve being treated the way I treated you.

When we first met, I told you that my family had just moved to the city from a village in the mountains. That was true, but what I didn't tell you was that it was actually a research facility with absolutely no other kids or teenagers. That's why when my family was forced to move here, I was terrified but also exhilarated. I thought I could finally do all the things I'd been dreaming of: playing Frisbee in parks and staying up till three during sleepovers and just living life with friends. Instead, I found a society of drones, dependent and enslaved by their I-WRISes and virtual realities. Nobody wanted or even bothered to talk to someone who didn't wear an I-WRIS. I could barely understand them when all they talked about was "bladaxing" and the Zix Step. It was like everyone spoke an entirely different language – one that I couldn't speak.

I lived those first few weeks at school in agony, wishing so badly that I had an I-WRIS just so I could have a chance – just even a single conversation – with somebody.

And then I met you.

During recess that day, I spotted you easily among the crowd – the only pair of eyes that weren't covered by an optic glass screen. I was overjoyed that I had at length found someone who I could actually talk to, and it was so comforting to meet someone else who also just moved to the city. I felt like I had met a "kindred spirit," as people in books might say. You were the only one with whom I could have absurd chats on classic novels, conspiracy theories, and how weird things were in the city. You were really down-to-earth and easy to talk to. And, as I got to know you more, I found that you were also faithful, caring, and undaunted. People made fun of you because you didn't wear an I-WRIS, but you never let what they said even touch you.

I wish – now more than ever – that I was more like you. I wish I had had the spine to just live life the way I wanted to and not the way everyone else did.

Having never attended a school before, I found not only the subjects but literally everything so overwhelmingly challenging and confusing. Through it all, you constantly came to my aid, whether answering my myriad of dumb questions, helping me tackle impossible math, or just listening to me rant on how unreasonably cruel the school system was. Thank you so much for always being there for me. Many times, exams, family issues, and stress would come crashing down onto my world, threatening to capsize me and sink my life. But this friendship was an anchor that always kept me afloat through every tempest.

Then, everything changed when I met Kyv. All I saw was a dude who was kind and generous enough to let me use his old pair of I-WRISes. Or maybe that was just what I wanted to see. After dreaming for months of wearing an I-WRIS and surfing the Omnispace, I didn't think twice about it. That first time that I entered the Omnispace was unlike anything I'd ever known. It was indescribable, a whole world of endless possibilities just waiting to be explored.

The next day, Kyv let me use his I-WRIS again. I joined a battle clan and had the time of my life waging war in zero G. Over the next few days, Kyv continued to let me use his I-WRIS and I continued to roam the Omnispace, battling, playing, scoring, and meeting people – people who I thought were my friends. I had a natural talent for the games and climbed the ranks swiftly, gaining more and more likes and viewers. It felt so gratifying to – at last long – finally be in with the crowd instead of a shunned and bullied outsider. I was now fluent in their language and was thriving in this land of wonder. The Omnispace became a home for me wear I belonged and everyone loved me.