THE WEIGHT OF BETRAYAL
1035 Words
Charlotte's POV
I couldn't breathe.
Not because of exhaustion. Not because of stress.
Because of pain.
The sort that suffocated you from the inside out. The sort that made your lungs hurt like they were collapsing, your body having forgotten how to breathe.
I was by myself in my lab, my hands trembling as I attempted, for the eighteenth time, to get the AI chip to work.
It wasn't working.
Again.
The screen went red. The simulation crashed.
And then—
Boom.
The whole chip fried itself.
Smoke curled into the air, the bitter smell of burned circuits filling the room.
Fuck.
I slammed my hands onto the table, my breath catching.
Fuck, f**k, f**k!
Tears filled my eyes. Hot, angry tears. Heartbroken tears.
I had immersed myself in my work for hours, hoping—praying—that it would distract me.
It didn't.
For as much as I struggled to concentrate, my thoughts continued to drift back to him.
To the empty bottles of wine.
To the clothes on the floor.
To how he had laughed in my face and said our relationship had been just about s*x.
I wept, my hands forming fists.
How long had he been cheating on me?
How long had he been lying to me?
Had it all been some kind of joke to him?
I emitted a throttled cry and swept everything off the desk in a mad fury—papers, tools, burnt chips, all of it crashing to the floor.
I had been with Bryon since I was sixteen.
And now I had nothing.
All those precious time I spent feeling normal with him, feeling like a regular girl down the drain.
Time I could have spent improving my project
Time I could have spent getting my fourth degree, I wasted it in a relationship where he had the audacity to tell me I didn't commit enough to.
My heart ached, but I would have to pull it together for Vander .
For science.
---
The auditorium was packed with people—scientists, government people, reporters.
I stood in the back, fists clenched, trying to look calm.
I was tired.
I hadn't slept.
My eyes were puffy, my head hurt, yet I had brought myself to the handing over . Because this—this—was the last thing I had left.
"Science is not all discovery," the President of the FBI addressed the microphone, his deep voice taking control of the room's attention. "It's about changing lives. It's about bringing hope where there was none."
The whole room was quiet, clinging to each word that he said.
"When I was eight years old," he went on, "I lost my leg in an accident. I thought my life was over. I thought I'd never run again, never play outside with the other kids. But science—science—gave me back my life. My first robotic leg allowed me to be a normal boy. And now, the one I have today?"
He stopped, his eyes scanning the audience before settling on me.
"It was programmed by Miss Charlotte Hayes herself."
There was a murmur through the crowd.
I tensed, bearing the weight of every stare upon me, I remembered the exact programming I used to set up his robotic leg,with nerve cells running through it
The thing practically functions like every other human leg, even better it never gets tired and doesn't need constant charging.
A basic innovation to anyone else but a life changer to those that get to experience it first hand .
"Miss Hayes, could you step up here for a moment?"
My legs were leaden as I climbed onto the stage.
The applause was thunderous, but it didn't reach me.
I should be proud.
I should be honored.
All I felt, however, was a profound, empty hollowness.
"Miss Hayes," he said, beaming warmly, "we've been familiar with your technology for some time now. But today, we're here for something even greater."
He nodded toward the side of the stage, where a big black van was parked.
Inside—
Vander.
My heart tightened.
Vander, my project. The AI-powered robotic prototype that had the potential to revolutionize military technology forever.
"This machine is a wonder of science," said the President, "but with great power comes great responsibility."
He looked at me again, his face solemn.
"I want you to take an oath, Miss Hayes. That this project will never be employed for anything other than good. That you will never let it be used to destroy."
I swallowed hard.
The words were lead in my mouth.
Because what was good? What was evil?
Hadn't I gone my whole life thinking Bryon was good?
Hadn't I thought love was good?
And where had that gotten me?
"I swear," I said, my voice not quite as loud as I meant for it to be.
"Repeat it."
"I swear," I repeated, now louder. "I swear to use Project Lazarus for good."
The President nodded, smiling. "Then shall we bring Vander home?"
--
The van groaned in front of me, its black exterior merging with the morning mist.
I trailed behind in my small car, clutching the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turned white.
My heart was leaden.
This was meant to be a milestone.
I was meant to be thrilled.
Instead, I could only think of Bryon.
Had he been sleeping with her for months? Years?
Had every "I love you" been a lie?
Had each time he'd kissed me been a joke?
I swallowed the lump in my throat, pushing my feelings down, down, down.
I couldn't cry anymore.
I was finished crying over him.
I pulled into my driveway and my phone buzzed.
A text from Bailey. “I'm inside.”
Good, because I didn't feel like I could do any of this alone as well as begin reprogramming the whole chip
I could create something that would blow the entire world aback.
Because I am Charlotte Hayes.
I say it more like a mantra because I felt nothing like that ,the woman I just described.
But hopefully, once I see vander,the scientist in me would take over this human feeling and unnecessary hurt
- Writer
