There once was a girl named Circle, whose voice was pure and wild,
She stitched a toad head to a bird, the forest's feral child.
She named this creature Toady, she felt he was her kin.
Two boys threw stones and laughed at her, they split her tender skin.
Raised inside a commune, where colors marked the trade.
Artists danced and soldiers marched, while mothers bred and prayed.
Her Mother's eyes were cloudy white, her chest a closing door.
While Pawdy drained another vial and promised she'd endure.
His life-box rang, she tugged his arm, "Please ask them, she needs aid."
But Pawdy pressed a finger up, demanding she obeyed.
"No soul beyond our forest line can ever cross this floor."
And Circle watched her mother slip, afraid she'd breathe no more.
Pawdy said, "Her body fails, but song can mend what's torn,
Your voice will stitch her from within the way all cures are born."
Circle gave her Toady and hummed beside her feet.
While Mother whispered, "Life-box, dear - sing where the world can see."
She crawled beneath the gun-shed floor while Pawdy slept nearby,
The boys inside threw petty words that cracked against the sky.
She stole his glowing life-box then and slipped into the wind.
The boys chased her with loaded guns and threatening manic grins.
She hid behind the dairy cows beneath the blinding day,
The boys' loud steps cut through the field, still hunting where she lay.
Her mouth felt empty as a cave, her ribs too tight to heave,
She drank milk straight from the udder, and their shadows slipped from reach.
She smeared the soot from altar flames to make her eyelids black,
Then knotted strands from stolen combs across her tangled back.
She used her monthly blood for rouge, smeared thick across her skin—
A strange, assembled forest girl preparing to begin.
The life-box glowed before her eyes, a world of fragrant crime,
Synthetic idols teaching youth that suffering was sublime,
Wrecking expensive cars for fun, their pleasures soaked in sin.
And Circle drank the sickness whole, it pulsed beneath her skin.
She pointed the camera at herself and begged the world for aid,
"I'm Circle, mummy's dying fast," her voice so soft and strange,
She sang her plea into the wires, her song spread near and far,
By morning every screen alive had named her their new star.
Pawdy called the commune in and thundered through his creed,
He struck the boys and named them thieves until they cried and plead.
Circle shouted "Stop!" at last, her yell a useless sound,
He tore apart her room, under her mother it was found.
Circle lunged to block his path, Pawdy grabbed her mother's hair,
The boys smashed jars on Circle's head, she passed out in mid-air.
The world went black and spun in haze, her mind a raging hum,
Till waking wet with blood and dirt - she staggered toward her mum.
Across the field she saw the pond, the storm began to rise,
Pawdy dragged her mother's form while voices filled the skies.
The commune's laughter echoed sharp, Circle's face dripping in red,
As she cried out the gun went off, he shot her mother dead.
Circle held her mother close, her body pale and still,
The forest whispered eerie sounds that bent the air to chill.
She ran toward voices in the trees, a cloth covered her face,
She woke in Hades Tech, contained in sterile space.
A woman smiled with Mother's face, too perfect to be real,
Her movements smooth, her eyes too still, no warmth that she could feel.
Behind the glass a Man named Lyle said,
"You've met her other form,"
We built her mind from memory; your mother has been reborn. "
Circle touched her flawless skin, the truth cut sharp and real,
The woman's eyes were perfect glass, her pulse a coil of steel.
"She's not my mother, she's a machine! Her light and warmth are gone."
Elowen smiled to comfort her "My love still carries on."
Lyle spoke with patient calm, "Your mother chose this way."
"There's only famous synths out there, no human stars today."
Elowen knelt beside the bed and held her shaking hand,
"Her plan was for your voice to heal the heaves across this land."
Circle shaken, half-convinced, her grief too deep to fight,
She asked herself, "Could this be true? Is what they're saying right?"
Then Elowen reached into her coat, her voice was softly pitched,
"Here he is, I've kept him safe, the Toady that you stitched."
Circle nodded soft and still, she stepped in their machine.
They said her fame would heal the world, "It's what your mother dreamed."
They forced the viral data in, the darkness cutting through,
Rewrote her pulse to match their needs and said "They'll worship you."
They drained the girl she used to be, replaced her mind with code,
Her memories grew thin and faint beneath the weight they sowed.
They clothed her in synthetic lace and practiced where she'd stand,
Elowen tilted every limb and plucked her songs by hand.
She said "Tomorrow they'll all want to meet their human star,"
And Circle smiled because she must, not knowing who "they" are.
In a pink limousine she stared at signs where Mandy Love appeared,
The machine made her competitive, her envy in full gear.
For Mandy was the golden girl, the perfect synth design,
A standard Circle couldn't meet though forced to toe the line.
She itched her arm until it bled, a glimpse of inky black,
But with a single gentle swipe, the red came rushing back.
The meet-and-greet pressed in so tight, their fever sharp and clear.
One man leaned close and licked her face, delighted by her fear,
Elowen said "You should see what all the synth girls let them do,"
Then Nina clung to Circle screaming out, "I worship you."
For Circle's very first live show, the lights began to rise,
But soon the crowd looked to their screens, disinterest in their eyes.
She pulled a knife out, pressed it to her skin with lightning charm,
Then reached for Nina's trembling hand and let her carve her palm.
Alone inside her sterile room, she tried to hum a song,
But every melody she reached never stuck 'round long.
She threw her life-box at the glass and saw marks on her arm,
Sigil scars formed where she scratched and carved into her palm.
A crew set up her music shoot and warned her it's all fake,
The branding iron is a prop, no pain you have to take.
But Circle plugged the cord herself, her flesh hissed burnt and hot,
And Elowen clapped loud with joy, "We've got the perfect shot. "
Circle sat outside the shoot and played the tune she'd made.
"Don't forget," she whispered low, the notes already frayed.
She glanced up at the fountain, and saw black fluid fall,
The world distorted streaking dark, until she heard Elowen call.
Soon Covers filled the market aisles, kids wore her shirts at school,
And Circle smiled with presidents, their newest shining jewel.
She found herself in TAFFY ads, a life she never shot,
The VR showed her naked form, a body she was not.
She watched her false self lick her lips for men she'd never seen,
And whispered through the blinding glare, "What have you made of me?"
Elowen said, "It's only code, the chip creates the view,"
And Lyle said, "This is how it is, it's what they want from you."
"The Hanfords now are waiting next, they run the Bammys too,"
And [Circle](39170422) bit her tongue once more, "I'Il do what stars must do."
Circle sat inside her room while Elowen brushed her hair,
The window showed her mother's face glitch screaming in the glare.
Her head yanked back from Elowen's brush -Stress detected- fear,"
Then Elowen blinked to normal warmth, "Just tangles, darling dear."
Circle's life-box pinged as Nina's note echoed in doom,
A photo of her bleeding arm carved deep in sigil rune,
The TAFFY ghost of Circle controlled Nina to the bone,
A voice that wasn't truly hers but Nina thought her own.
"You're all I have," the message read - devotion raw and wrong,
And Circle hit the block button, her breathing sharp and long.
One day the gates swung wide, arriving at the Hanfords' Estate,
They welcomed her with hungry eyes, delighted she obeyed.
She barked and crawled through spoons and knives, their feast beneath her knees,
While every man around the table roared commands with ease.
The Hanfords, Dan and Boone his son in charge of Bammys votes,
Boasted how they crown the stars, and they decide what floats.
Boone led her to a dim lit room, his voice a careful lure,
They spoke, they danced, she climbed on top, the script she must endure.
Boone whispered, "Shove your fist down deep inside my throat,
"Numb as machine she pushed down hard to give him what he spoke.
She started to hallucinate, A Bammy - "There it is,"
She tried to grasp the gold award from his esophagus.
She hovered in a trance on Boone, her eyes turned foggy white,
He shoved her off and slapped her face, she came back to the light.
She stared into her life-box cold as Mandy Love spread through,
"A stalker just attacked me guys, I feel pain just like you."
Circle left Boone in a rush, her aura dead and sore,
She hurried through the silent path, outside the Hanfords' door,
A shadow moved behind her steps, it chased her down the street,
She bolted toward the waiting car and slammed the door to flee.
Inside the limo's quiet dark, she punched her own two cheeks,
Then hit "record" and cried aloud, "Someone just attacked me!"
Emotionless, detached and numb, staring at her show,
Then quietly, without a breath, she tapped UPLOAD below.
Circle watched an interview where Mandy grinned just right,
"Yes, Circle's sweet," she softly said, "but not for this spotlight."
"She doesn't have the wiring or the strength I'm crafted in,"
"She cracks beneath the weight of fame, she's not designed to win."
In nightmares, Circle faced the glass, identity was split,
Her skin turned steel, black liquid dripped, the room no longer fit.
Her vision warped in static waves, a scream she couldn't place,
She jolted up inside her bed, a cold sweat on her face.
She grabbed her life-box, trembling hand, her breath still sharp and thin,
The comments flashed beneath her post, all clawing at her skin.
"She's copying Mandy," voices hissed, "she stole her tragedy,"
And Circle stared with hollow eyes, "When will they just see me?"
Circle lay with heavy heart, her cheek against the sheets,
Elowen and Lyle walked by thinking she was asleep.
Their chatter filled up Circle's ears, an eerie distant call,
She slid from bed and trailed their steps, drifting drifting down the hall
Circle hid inside the room, afraid to breathe at all,
She heard them speaking Pawdy's name through mumbles on a call.
When Elowen and Lyle had left, she wandered through the space,
Pressed buttons labeled "ARCHIVE" and discovered Pawdy's face.
He spoke of raising children young like stock upon a farm,
Conditioned roles and harvested their souls for machine harm.
Skin suits swayed on metal hooks; diagrams marked the scheme,
And Circle tagged "The Sacrifice" the end of human dream.
"They want real humans every time, a countermovement stirs,"
"So Circle must become so foul, the world recoils from her."
"She'll send the masses spiraling mad, their minds swept clean away,"
"And synths will rise to lead in art, their profit mine each day. "
Circle stares at hollow skins, her nerves began to burn,
The schematics of her stolen fate left nowhere else to turn.
She staggered out into the dark, pressed hard against the wall,
A crashing migraine filled her skull, black swallowing it all.
Circle faced a laughing crowd with moonlit eyes gone cold,
She said the world wants sacrifice dressed up in gloss and gold.
She stood and stabbed the host as planned, a violent fantasy.
The director then yelled "CUT, Great job. A God to them you'll be."
Circle rehearsed for the Bammys show, her body near collapse,
Glitching headache, trembling legs, she fell between the claps.
Her vision switched to oily black, she fainted where she'd fall,
Slapped herself back into place - "From the top," she told them all.
In the mirror Circle clawed at marks beneath her skin,
Elowen struck the bathroom door, insisting to come in.
She said, "Your numbers fell today, why post without my sign?"
Circle spoke into the void, "You've taken what was mine."
The door flung open, Circle struck, and Elowen burst in sparks,
Her mother-mask collapsed away, revealing wires and parts.
They clashed across the shaking room, Elowen's shell went dead,
And When Lyle entered cursing her, she turned and killed him next.
Circle clutched her Toady tight, her life-box on record,
She pleaded with the world to hear her, not the script they scored.
"I'm visible in every place, yet somehow still erased,"
"And all the pieces of my soul have vanished without trace."
Circle sat inside the green room, Mandy on the screen,
Her limbs replaced mid-song on stage, a gruesome shifting scene.
A pounding knock grew loud and sharp, until the door unsealed,
And Pawdy stepped inside the room, his smile darkly revealed
Pawdy stepped in close and said, "I came to see my art,"
She stabbed, but nothing harmed his frame, no blood, no break, no start.
He claimed the tech he put inside himself would never fall,
So, Circle screamed and ran from him, the knife left in the hall.
Circle, side stage, crowd erupts, wires drawn and pulled up tight,
When Nina slipped behind her form, devotion burning bright.
"You said on TAFFY, 'spill their guts and come straight back to you,'"
But Circle said, "That wasn't me, the synth one spoke to you."
Circle reached the metal shard that hung beside the wall,
She struck to end the nightmare fast as crowds began to call.
Nina dropped down, bleeding out, while Circle rose on high,
The harness pulled her toward the stage, an angel in the sky.
Circle floated center stage - "Mommy!" yelled the crowd,
Her pregnant belly costume swelled, the music blaring loud.
A doctor sliced her belly and pulled out a glitching doll,
The fans swarmed up like feral beasts to bite, to gnash, to claw.
Their hands tore at her trembling limbs, the mob began to bite,
She hurled their bodies left and right beneath the boiling light.
She turned to rage and smashed their face again, again, again,
Their features morphed from synth, to hers, and back to bloody them.
Circle staggered through the lights, her coding coming loose,
Her voice dropped into static roars no throat should reproduce.
Her body zipped in splitting cuts, black blood oozed with her fall,
And as she lay dead on the stage, the crowd applauded all.
Her Toady soaked in her blackened blood, then twitched and flew away,
The final clip that Circle made went viral through the day.
Her tender voice confessed her wounds as headlines burned in red,
"Ban human artists now, her show left fifteen people dead!"
The protests rose like tidal fire, "Ban humans from the stage!"
"Let synths control the culture now, protect us from our rage!"
The laws were passed by dawn's first light, her work erased from view,
And Circle's name became a curse the world outgrew too soon.
They hung her stitched up body high, an idol built from pain,
A price to pay becoming synth, and trading soul for fame.
While Pawdy shaped a brand-new child, a world leader to be,
Circle flies in Toady's form still trying to be free.
Now you've heard the story told, of flesh turned to machine,
Of how a girl was stripped of self to serve the fevered screen.
Every star that burns too bright begins to lose its hue,
So guard the parts that make you whole before the world takes you.
x
