there goes life imitating art again!
Cyberspace is a universe in its infancy. As it expands, its creators are continuously reshaping the dimensions and the potential possibilities on the binary plane. The code-based medium of existence may well just be one of an infinite number of dimensions, and it was one where alternate versions of people existed in varying numbers. Thanks to a new online service Emma had just discovered there were nine versions of her within a five-mile radius of her home. These copies of the teenage girl were synthesized from the constant stream of data on her that was perpetually being streamed and archived in vast server farms.
Emma only became aware of the existence of the series line version of her after a friend told her about an online service that’s able to track simulations that incorporate pictures taken from your Facebook account. She had known about the other nine for over a week, and it was something she desperately wanted to forget. More than likely it was someone she knew. The profile pictures scrolling down the page of her feed now all seemed to leer at her through the screen. She was wary of how people looked at her. Anyone of the seemingly harmless people she politely waved to on her way around town might have a digital doll made in her likeness. An adolescent imagination shaped by the internet has layers scarred layers of trauma it can draw from.
For a fee, she could dispell any mystery about who had paid for the illusion of having her. Her rational mind was mortified by the prospect, but there was a curiosity gnawing at her adolescent mind that had as of yet to develop the proper faculties for caution and sound judgment. She was overwhelmed by a desire to take a glimpse into a hell constructed from the fantasies manufactured by the primal hard wiring of the mind. She agreed to the terms of service and put on her VR device. She couldn't understand the long-term ramifications of gambling her psyche just to satisfy a macabre curiosity. She peered through the eyes of her doppelgangers and merged with them, and the real flesh and blood people she saw seemed oblivious or indifferent to the fact there was now a human being inhabiting the simulated body. While she was not there physically, she was looking with her eyes and these torments and degradations were woven into her neural tissue as memories. These inoperable specters would painfully fester there for the rest of her existence.