Notes

Hello again, whatever your name is! Below, I've written a short story for your enjoyment. It's an autobiographical piece, but I tried to make it more interesting and new by giving it a fairy tale kind of spin. There's a lot of symbolism I tried to incorporate here, so I hope it doesn't ever get too confusing for you. But you're pretty smart, so I don't think it should be a problem.

Anyway, here you go!

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Once upon a time, there was a little boy, and he was made of copper. His pockmarked outer shell was dull and weak, and the gears in his head and chest clicked and whirred loudly when he moved. The hinges that made up his joints were creaky and old, and the curly wiring atop his head was messy and dusted with rust. All of the other little boys that the little copper boy knew were shiny and quick, and they could run and jump and play much faster, higher and with more energy than he could, and it made the little copper boy ache on the inside.

The little copper boy was not made in a factory like most other little boys were. His parents, a man made of straw and a woman made of glass, had pieced him together themselves, and their work was flawed. When he was a little copper baby, he was unaware of such flaws. It was not until he began to interact with other little boys when he realized how broken and inadequate he was, inside and out. When the little copper boy tried to speak, his words were chopped and skewed and clipped grotesquely by his throat and his voice was creaky and harsh. Other little boys did not like to talk to him, as they were afraid of the sounds that the little copper boy would make, and it made the little copper boy ache on the inside.

One day, the little copper boy (though he was not so little anymore) saw his father bring home a magical box. And, as straw does, his father floated out of the house again, not to be seen for several more days. The copper boy opened the magical box, and in the blink of an eye, was transported to a whole other dimension. It was a strange land where the people spoke an entirely different language, and there was laughter and fun and colors and light. And most importantly, the copper boy realized, you could be anyone you wanted to be in this dimension. He did not have to be the cobbled together copper boy whose words were never quite right. He could be a shiny chrome man with gears that whirred quickly and whose voice was clear and strong. For then on, he frequently opened the magical box, and became whoever he wanted to be, but he was never himself, and it made the copper boy fly on the inside.

A few years afterwards, the copper boy's father of straw floated away one day, and he never came back. The copper boy was left to watch his siblings of sand and his mother of glass all by himself, and his gears churned loudly with resentment and sorrow. His mother was too fragile to be left alone in such a way, so the copper boy stowed her away in the attic and covered her with old rugs and dead flower petals. The copper boy found himself feeling only feelings of rain and darkness and hurt. Sometimes, at night, he would hear his mother's tinkling and gentle sobs above his bed, and the pain would become too much. In times like those, sometimes the copper boy would dribble acids over his copper shell and watch the metal strip at the surface, to feel something, but it still made the copper boy ache on the inside.

But still, each day, the copper boy would enter the magical box, and become someone happy and carefree. He would become someone whose father of straw never flew away, and who did not creak when he walked, and who did not ache on the inside. There were so many worlds inside the magical box that he could explore, and so many people that he could be within each one. He began to spend hours at a time inside the box, telling fictional accounts of fun times that he had had with fictional acquaintances. But after a time, he began to realize how much darker and rainier life was outside of the box when compared to the lives of his made-up personas, and it made the copper boy ache on the inside.

One day, his mother of glass had left the attic, and decided to sneak out of the house. While the glass woman was outside, she met a man, and he was made of stone. He was strong and large and hearty, and his voice was deep and booming. The glass woman and the stone man began to meet outside of her house regularly, and they would speak of their past troubles and their future triumphs together. Although the man of stone appeared to be very stoic and harsh, his heart was kind and his intentions were soft and full of feathers. Before long, the man of stone married the woman of glass, and he became the copper boy's father of stone. And the copper boy felt sick on the inside.

When the copper boy became a copper man, he was introduced to the beautiful fire fairies that roamed the city. The fire fairies were free spirits, and they flew and glimmered and glowed like space rock. The copper man loved the fire fairies and their light so very much, and hoped desperately that some day, they would love him too. "But I am much too strange to be loved by anyone," he told himself. "Let alone a fire fairy." On certain evenings, though, as he strolled through town, his gears sputtering and his knees creaking, a lone fire fairy would flutter over and land gently on his shoulder. The copper man would be delighted to be acknowledged by a fire fairy, and he would give the fairy everything that she wanted, all in hopes of loving and being loved back. But the fairies never stayed long. They would take his love and affections and desperation and flutter away into the moonlight, without another word. "You cannot allow fire fairies to use you in such a way, son," his father of stone scolded him, time and time again. And the copper man ached inside more than he had ever ached before.

The copper man then only began to feel hurt and pain and sad and scared. He found it impossible to leave the house, worried that the metal men passing by him on the street would hear his harsh voice and his loud gears and see the stripped metal on his arms and the dents in his shell, and such fear prevented his gears from turning entirely. So his father of stone stowed him away in the attic and covered him with old rugs and dead flower petals. But the copper man still entered the magical box each day, and he would slip into a new identity, and live a life that was not truly his. He found, though, that is was not quite as satisfying anymore. While it was fun and colorful and refreshing to pretend that he was a tall wire man with glimmering hair and slick joints, it still made him ache on the inside. "Why can I not simply be a copper man who is happy? Why must I be a shiny man who is surrounded by riches and fire fairies?" So the following day, the copper man entered the magical box, and he stayed a copper man throughout the trip. And while he still ached and burned and felt darkness, those feelings were surrounded by a thin veil of confidence and happy. But the copper man still could not help but to ache on the inside.

The copper man moved away from his family to pursue a life of happiness and light and not aching. He traveled to distant lands of heat and sunshine and met many people: metal men, wire men, chrome men, fire fairies, sand fairies, glass fairies, and the list went on. And most of the people were full of laughter and color and rainbows and sugar, and gradually helped to fill the copper man with laughter and color and rainbows and sugar. Within a year, the copper man found himself surrounded by love and passion and hugs. "Perhaps I am not too strange, after all," he had told himself. "Perhaps it is possible for someone to truly love me, unconditionally." And he found the thin veil of confidence happy had become a blanket. While there were still times of aching and acid and fat tears running down his dented shell, they did not spoil the times of grinning and eating and being alive. The copper man still entered the magical box each day, but he did not enter as a shiny chrome man with gold for teeth and rockets for feet. He entered as a small copper man whose words were never quite right and who creaked and rattled and whirred when he walked. And it made the copper man fly on the inside.