Pass the Pepper, Please.

[Chilly day in January of 2119. Young woman in her early 30’s is sitting on a leather sofa. A journal is open on her lap. She twirls a ballpoint pen between her fingers. She begins to write.]

Jan. 21, 2119 -- It’s me, again. Surprise, surprise. Yesterday, I curled my hair, uncovered my makeup, and brushed my nails with an intense deep pink titled Flamin’ Flamingo. This morning, my appearance reminds me of a hungover college student on Sunday morning. My mascara smeared during the night and my eyes are bordered by shadows of dark powder. Half of my hair has completely lost it’s curl. The right side is totally flattened from sleeping. I haven’t thought about my appearance in years -- what’s the point anyways? I have no one to impress besides myself. Nicole took Pepper for a walk this morning, and Brendan is who knows where? He is probably playing video games, searching the net, or directing Thomas in the kitchen. I am quite worried about Brendan, and at this point I am not sure what to do. Last week he went crazy with the remotes and had a field day controlling Thomas and Pepper. He tired himself to complete exhaustion from chasing Pepper in circles, and Nicole had to search for the emergency portable battery pack in the attic. Honestly, I am at the point where I would consider pressing RED, but I am not sure if my heart can handle it.

[Pepper enters the living room.]

At least Pepper seems to be doing well. He is in bright spirits and is perfecting his treat searching skills. The other day, I was convinced that I had created the perfect hiding spot. Somehow, he was able to crack the code on the triple locked air bar in under 2 hours.

[Woman’s hand begins to shake slightly and the pen falls onto the journal. She picks up the pen.]

I feel myself becoming more and more exhausted each day. There are only 10 more pages left in this journal -- meaning over 200 have been filled. It’s almost time to add this one to the stack of journals accumulating on the old bookshelf in the bedroom closet. Sometimes I flip through them and re-live the times when I lived among the humans. The sketches, pictures, and entries give me a rush of so many emotions, and I miss Sarah, Jonathan, and Emily so much. I think about them everyday.

[Woman appears to be quite tired. Her eyes begin to close.]

Goodnight, journal. Please let this be the end. - Mira

[Woman slumps downwards into the couch. Pepper lifts his head and runs to her. He pulls a cord attached to her back and plugs it into the living room wall. The sound of whirring fills the house.]