Short Story Written with my Roommates

As I sat in the jail cell I thought about all the things that lead me to this point. Months ago I had this idea, an idea that was so foreign to me that it almost seems incomprehensible that I could have it, or let it lead me to this moment. I've never done much with my life, I was the first human born on the moon and let that fact determine the majority of my life. I also invented several life altering inventions, things like instant teleportation and pure fusion energy. None of these things gave me any satisfaction or fulfillment. Life should have more meaning, or so I thought. Then I had the idea, the one I’ve been describing, that lead me to this moment, in a jail cell. Some fundamentalist religionists came to my door, an impressive feat considering I'm among the wealthier portion of the population, and I live in a isolated place. I do not remember the story they tried to preach, some boy, some gold, a God figure. Regardless it started a thought, this thought lead to an idea. After I encouraged violently these cultists to leave I thought about belief, and its irrelevance to my life.

A short time later, and I choose to relate this narrative in a linear fashion, started with a beginning, coming to the present, and there to some possible conclusion, I was eating dinner, not something I do often as my body has developed past a need for sustenance, and an overwhelming sensation of boredom came upon me. Within seconds I had prepared myself for the end. Then the feeling ended, and life continued on.

Upon a consultation of my security system a leak was found, an enemy discovered and a war begun.

The war ended, a war that I was not ready for. I found that all my knowledge and prowess was lacking, I could not do it all alone. A people who had so long relied on me were sacrificed to keep me alive. Instants of endless agony were the fate of all those who sustained me. To end it all I had to do was relent my unbridled anger.

I have been contained, this cell, this jail, a fine home for one who has no purpose, no meaning. I have even lost my name. My thoughts dwindle into chaos, an unending litany of moments half remembered and soon forgot.

The End.