White walls, office supplies in neat stacks. This room was the very epitome of what the Manager’s office should be. I stood there, before the foreboding figure of the owner of this room, dwarfed by the neatness and order that it held. Unlike the room, though, was the man’s desires. A paper was thrown down before me—my own work. He spoke,“I believe one of your colleagues has already done this. Your ideas are all the same as the others. Find something that people will be interested in.”

I touched the paper and then clenched my fist. “But everything I try to submit that seems new leads me to this, or it is so farfetched you don’t even take a glance at it.” Annoyance boiled within me, struggling to enter a grimace. It was always the same, every time.

His stalwart expression suffered no change at my words and I was forced to storm from the office, tossing my papers away. If he wants something actually interesting, why weren’t my ideas working?

On my drive home I watched the endless rows of cars, flowing together in unison, with little disturbances in their patterns. He wanted me to be unique with my ideas, but yet driving off the road was not it! I can’t be simply another car in a line, that isn’t special enough. No one will notice me if I don’t, no one. Never have they ever noticed me.

I fiddled with the lock and opened the door to my house angrily. The house was empty, small, and tidy. Darkness crawled behind old photos cleaned by only the fond touching of my fingertips, nostalgic and bitter. A painting of endless irregular lines, broken only by a single dashed line through the center decorated the anteroom. The house was not quiet, though, as many days it was. I only lived here, what else could exist but memories?

I took off my coat and shoes, while peeking into the small room that wrapped about the white stairs. The television beneath it, and a bright plush seat seemed alive. Light from the flickering screen was dancing across its face, as well as on the body of the chair, and on one other thing. Was it a silhouette? No, it was not. It was… something. A creature.

A small thing, with a body like a child, but unlike a human one. Wrapped in shadow, coalesced into the bipedal form. I could only think of it as a monster, but it made no notice of me as I crept closer. Fear was there, but everyone felt fear. So instead I chose to feel courage, and as a studious person, also a bit of curiosity. Stepping so I could see its face, I was surprised to see a flat plane, shaped like an empty mask but as reflective as a mirror. No, not reflective, I thought as I studied it, but more like a screen. It was rolling through hundreds of images in moments, all with expressions of happiness, anger, sadness, all flashing across its face. I saw images that had been on the television but moments ago. When I let out a gasp, it turned its face towards me.

Images of curiosity and confusion flashed across, some of them of my own face, from a few seconds ago but mirrored back. I stepped back from it, but it made no motions to do anything. It simply looked at me with the faces of thousands full of curiosity, and then returned to the television, as if to sap more images, like data, for it to use. I had no idea if it could talk, but I could. Once I caught my breath, I asked the thing “What are you?” All other thoughts and leftover rage about my work became fleeting.

As a mouthless shadowy creature, it didn’t respond. I was not sure if I expected it to or not. It turned itself back towards me, only to look at me with other’s wonder, showing dozens of faces. I could not tell where it had gotten all those images. How long had it been watching people?

I sat down and looked at it, wondering what others would do in this situation. Many people might be afraid, maybe attempt to attack it, but the thing looked very benign, almost weak. It definitely was nothing but a child. Some would talk to it. I didn’t want to do that. Being like everyone just leads you to boring monotony. So instead, I decided on something different.

I held out a hand and waved. It only looked at me with a constant stream of confused expressions. I tried to ignore how strange it was to see my own face look back intermingled with thousands of images gleaned from what was probably boring soap operas. I waved again. It didn’t do anything. So I tried again. I wasn’t going to give up, as that is what some people do, but not me. After many more waves, it picked up a small hand that drew itself from shadowy folds and copied me.

I smiled. So this thing was some sort of copycat or something. Whatever it was. I tried to push my thoughts past whatever the thing could be, and just treat it as something alive, like maybe a child. I have not had much experience with children, though, so I tried my best. This time I smiled and waved. A wave and a hundred stolen smiles looked back. It learned with some sort of intelligence.

I stood up, and turned on the lights as I walked upstairs. My room was simple but splattered with things of my own. Old awards from school, posters of fantastical feats of science, and colorful shelves of books. My research, my way of knowing what has been done, and where I need not tread further. Underneath one such shelf was a bin, all full of small plastic blocks. I could care less if anyone found me having these childish things. They were fun, great way to explore one’s thoughts. I hefted the box and glanced at my desk, where my computer and a camera lay together. I turned away from them, shaking my head. “No one would care.”

I hurried downstairs, and placed the bin down before the creature, who had already returned to staring at the television. I waved at it. It turned back and waved, with smiles on its screen-like face. Its presence was already growing on me, like a pet. Which was a bit odd, as it was a very strange thing to have for a pet. I grabbed sets of blocks and stacked them into a small wall, all while showing carefully how it is done. After a few more attempts to catch its attention, it copied me. Sadly, with the gestures and all. The block wall was built exactly the same, all colors perfect, I wondered if how it was placed on the floor was the same too. I sighed. It was smart but only capable of copying that from another.

So I took the bin and walked away. Grabbing more blocks and forming another wall. I then handed it the blocks it needed, except there were not the same amount of colored ones. This proved a problem, as a flurry of frustrated faces flashed on its head as it stared at a half-built structure. It did not have enough of one type of block to make an exact copy. “Now what would it do?” I thought with a curious smirk.

Well unfortunately, it did nothing, but just stared. It might have broken. I waved at it again, and it responded with the wave it had done earlier, smiles and all, but then returned to the problem before it. I watched it show frustration, while it continued to steal that same expression, and use my face again and again. “Why can’t you do anything else?” I asked it. “Why can’t you not copy me? Think! Copying others gets you nowhere.”

It just glanced at me confused, and then returned frustrated again. I picked up the structure it tried to construct, and it followed it earnestly. Breaking apart the old one, I gave it the block that it needed. It took the block and completed the wall. It smiled, feeling accomplished. I tried to smile back, but a smile with little glee. The thing still bothered me, and it was so weak when it couldn’t do anything new.

Dinner was short. I ate a simple microwaveable frozen meal, as I pondered the small thing watching the television. I turned on a science show, thinking that maybe it could learn something from that. Darkness shrouded the world outside, but it didn’t budge. I couldn’t help but wonder if it had learned the concept of sleep or not, or if it just didn’t need it. But I needed sleep.

The creature did nothing besides study the images before it, as I got ready for bed. I waved at it now and again, only to get the same response. If I had a ruler or protractor I could have measured the angles of that greeting, I could have sworn it was the same. Sleep was difficult, not just because I lay beside it, head on the plush seat, but because my thoughts swarmed with how it could find itself. Find something of its own, to make it special, make it completely off the road of others.

Awaking, I found it asleep, curled up in the same way as I was. I took the chance to touch the small thing, my hands covering over half the body. It felt like nothing, but as I touched, it began to feel like skin. It was copying feeling as well? I pulled my light pajamas over my hands and rubbed them along its body for a few seconds, and then quickly touched it again. Soft, like warm fabric.

I sat up, and soon enough it followed. “What do you want to do?” I asked it, most fully aware I would not get an answer.

My mind was racing so much all night that soon it was extremely early in the morning. I poured myself a glass of water. Refreshing clarity of mind poured through me, letting my thoughts collect around a single idea. I placed my cup of water in front of it. With three more cups in front of myself, I took one, drank it, and with another I poured it on top of the creature. It flashed with faces of surprise. The water fell around it in a puddle. I should have gotten a towel, but I didn’t care as I laughed.

The third cup stayed in front of me while I watched what it would do with the one placed before it. It held its hands out to grab the cup but stopped with its face contorted by dozens of thoughtful and confused expressions. It wanted to do something, but it seemed that its mind had too many different options to do with one cup of water, it couldn’t choose one. By leaving the water, it would choose option three, but be unable to copy the rest. By doing any other, it would be unable to copy them all. It picked up the cup and held it out in confused hands. It had chosen option four–do none of them, so as to not contradict what it was supposed to copy. I smiled.

It did not know which one to do, but it wanted to do them all. But by leaving the cup down it would have made a choice that it didn’t want, so it did none of them. Doing nothing is an option in and of itself. I decided to play with it more. As the morning grew over the horizon, I ran more and more complex tests, all trying to trick it or overload it with choices. It began getting more and more confused, and overall, very frustrated. Each emotion becoming more and more real, even with a face not its own. Its existence seemed to become its own in my mind. Not just a creature full of stolen thoughts.

After another hour of causing it to freeze now and again with half-built walls or upturned water glasses, I grabbed paper and pencils. I drew lines and shapes and then I gave it a pencil. It copied. As it copied my most recent sketch, I took tracing paper and layered them. On each was a slightly larger circle, making it look like one large circle, drawn at once. I set it down before it. Just as I thought, it copied but copied it as one large filled in circle and not as separate ones. I waved at it, drawing its attention as it gave the usual response, and then whipped a few of the concentric circles out.

It stared at the shape, and then back towards its own. I prayed it wouldn’t spontaneously combust. I watched it as faces flashed across its own, scared, worried. It was confused by what it had just done. It had copied wrong. As I watched it, a thought entered my own. Why did I see it as something of its own? Were the faces on its own screen not those of others? It was but a copycat, so why does it seem to have a personality then? What makes it any different from a child that draws information about the world from others?

All children start simple and take in information to grow. Humans learn from stimulus all around them. Why was using others as a basis for one’s growth ever wrong?

It was my turn to be confused, not by it, but myself. Was I like this creature? The unwanted thought plagued me. I was constrained not by what others do, but instead by what others haven’t done. I had searched and searched for something unique and special, because that is rewarded, and that is how it always is. But to go so far as to not touch anything done, out of fear that it would then be less special? All creatures learn and grow from others mistakes and one’s own. It is not an “or” but an “and”. No one is truly unique, simply creations from a plethora of information, but taking that information and forcing it into what defines you, that is…

I ran upstairs, leaving the small creature to begin to move, pick up the circles and put them together, and then take them apart. It wasn’t confusion that was on its face, but excitement. Something new, and different was happening! I poured through my books, again and again, with my own emotions flourishing. I did not make a checklist of what they had done, but what they hadn’t done yet. What have they given me the basis for, and what I can learn if I just take all the information of others?
Days later I returned home. “Yes!” I said to the pictures, books, and faded images. My proposal was accepted. I waved to the house, and the little creature waved back, a smile on its face. Not a smile of others, not my own, but an image of a smile drawn in rough, childish, pencil marks.