Chp. 0 - Alone

                                    

                                          
Another book hit hard and fast. I didn't even see it coming, yet, in hindsight, it should've been obvious due to repetition. Rubbing my scalp with a growl, I heard laughter followed by chatter, closing my locker door slightly to see the group huddled around like nothing had happened, but a few stole glances.
Assholes.
Rubbing my head, I grabbed my books off the floor and stuffed them into my locker, I had what I needed in one arm anyway. School is a cruel thing adults forced onto us too young to say 'no', so I had the displeasure of being stuck in this for years on end.
Years of bullying, neglect, and general anti-social behaviour, normal, edgy teenage drama stuff. If I kept my mouth shut half the time, I bet no one would even notice me at all, if they didn't already show ignorance. Those that didn't, well, a book is one of many lovely things I've added to my collection.
I walked on autopilot, chatter became murmurs, anything people laughed at, I kept quiet. Anything that looked like fun, I rolled my eyes and kept walking. Just a small, unimportant drone, honestly, liked it that way sometimes, better than being forced to play nice.
Arriving home, Dad was still 'working', so our home was vacant. I marched through the living space, turning to reach my door at the back end of the apartment, smiling slightly as I kicked open my door, that familiar scent putting me at ease.
Behind the safety of my own bedroom door, I let out a deep sigh. Finally, no more bullies, no more soul crushing schoolwork. Just me, myself, and my latest experiment on the verge of a breakthrough!
Giggling madly to myself, I leapt onto my office chair and spun around to come to sit before my large desk. Everything that was previously stationed on it swept away for more junk and scrap of all shapes and sizes as I flicked on the light strip overhead. Tools laid around me, wires hooked into my computer as two mounts held up my pride and joy.
It was nothing short of 'sick as hell', a railgun; rather, an energy rifle but railgun sounds cooler. The science behind it is its a photon converter, at least, that's the idea anyway. I based its design off an old weapon from humanity called a HK SL8 with a sweet as hell violet paintjob, some skull stickers too for a bit of flair.
Flicking it onto 'safety', I heard it purr with life, the receiver and barrel lighting up in certain spots as a neon green, it was dim though, running on local power while I fiddled with its internals, a panel pulled off as I twirled the screwdriver between my fingers. Just a few adjustments were left, and sufficient power supply.
"Hah, once you're up and running, you and I are gonna turn this predator-versus-prey on its backside, hahahaha," Grinning at the look on those damn disassembly drones' faces when one kick from my railgun reduces them to smouldering scrap. Just the anticipation is killing me!
Killing...
I felt my visor flicker with unease, setting my tool down to pinch the edge of my desk. I could die going out there, it was very possible... would anyone even care? If I leave for the spire, if I never came back, would I even be missed?
Dad... would... he mourn at all for me? For a failure like me? I wasn't blind, I know he didn't have high hopes for his daughter, but maybe, if only a little, I hope he'd believe in me.
Sniffing, I shook my head, rubbing my sleeve over my visor. I still had work to do; calibrations, right, gotta do calibrations to stabilize the energy output so it doesn't overheat...
But no matter how hard I tried, this strain in my chest, twisting in my core, remained. It was acrid sometimes, a pain I couldn't will away until it passed. It flooded up through my circuits to my head, making me feel fuzzy and my walls reduced to sand.
Another choked noise caught in my throat, feeling it clench as I punched my desk, causing any loose objects to jump and rattle. "Block it out, block it out - just go away," I lightly thumped my head against the edge of my desk, staring down at my own lap.
Failure, useless, waste of resources, scrap meant for disassembly. I hated how easy it was to let their words sink in, whoever said 'sticks and stones' could bite me, they sure did hurt just as bad as any wound. 
I was afraid... of proving them right... of dying alone...
I hated being all alone.
Rubbing my eyes again, I swallowed hard, forcing myself to sit upright, even if it felt like I was made of lead. "Just me from here on out, like always, no use crying about it now..." Right, I can do this. I will prove them wrong, otherwise... what was the point of it at all?
No matter how this ends, I'm going to kill a murder drone, if just to prove that humanity can't snuff us out...