Vera stood frozen, like a statue, in the neon light of the screen. "Be a good boy," the program whispered, her eyes awash with contradiction: disgust and agonizing interest. She had long felt like a puppet in this world, where bodies were sold for pixels and souls sought even a grain of warmth in the cold glow of monitors.
A virtual stripper danced on the screen, his movements honed to perfection but devoid of life. Vera saw in him a reflection of herself—a prisoner of the system, created for the pleasure of others. Her heart ached with pity for this soulless avatar, for its programmed loneliness.
"Be a good boy," the demand sounded again. Vera felt a storm rising within. Is it possible to be "good" in this world where morality is bought and sold? Is it possible to preserve yourself when you are torn apart by the demands of conforming to other people's expectations?
Pain, despair, helplessness—a cocktail of emotions crashed over her. She remembered her dreams, her hopes, everything that had once made her alive. And she realized she had to break out of this vicious cycle, otherwise she would lose herself forever. Even if it was the hardest decision of her life. She could no longer be a "good girl" in this filthy world. She had to become herself.
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