Rich Angel

“So Samantha, is Taylor Swift still single by 2046?”  One of the girls in a white flimsy lace dress asks me, looking quite serious. She came here in 2016.
I giggle,“ Of course she is, she’s Taylor!”
“I knew it!” She looks satisfied. “What else has happened? Anything big?”
“Well, nothing really special has happened… Except for the human colony on Mars.” I shrug my shoulders and try to look cool while showing off what they’ve missed out on.

Oh, by the way, have I introduced myself yet?
My name is Samantha and I died in an accident two days ago, on a warm breezy  Sunday afternoon in October 2046.
I am—oh sorry—I was a 27-year-old part-time vegan who loves talking to myself, in secret, mainly because I’m used to it and no one likes to listen to my boring stuff except my best friend Gina, and yup, she’s a robot, but she’s smart enough to name herself. Anyway, we stopped being friends…… I guess there’s no time to make it up now.
I basically lost everything I loved before I was dead so umm, I don’t really miss the human life at all, I mean, look at this place, this wide glass room, this massive beige silky rug, oh and that fountain outside…… this whole place is like a paradise—well, it is actually.
I’m surprised that I could get a place in this female-in-twenties-only club where everyone is in that white spaghetti strap dress, it’s like the coolest uniform ever. And we also have a cloudy white halo hovering on top of our head, you know those type of smoky clouds that come out of the vaporiser?–Yeah, like those.
Don’t ask me too many questions about other girls, I’m still new here but I think some of them have been here since the 70’s. I guess we’re assigned randomly in the same group, umm, room? house? whatever you call it. So it’s definitely not for how often we visited the church, otherwise I’ll probably end up in a gutter with no pretty dress on.

“Then what, Samantha? Gee, you’re like my brother, you guys have this disorder that makes you stop talking suddenly…….” The girl with the black oily bangs stares at me, so does everybody else, sitting in a circle, giving me all the attention like introducing someone new to a rehab.
The more nervous I get, the more I talk to myself. This is the only way I can calm myself down and I bet your brother has also been talking to himself numerously about the poor decision you’ve made with your hairstyle…… I slowly gather my thoughts as I don’t want to force myself to be someone I’m not, considering I’m already in heaven, right? There’s nowhere better than this, so why do I need to be perfect now?!

“Umm—it all started from the day I lost my job, I was replaced by some smart robots that do my job.”

I know that compared to me, the robots are better at handling the money. They were faster, better at maths and didn’t seem to need raises, or even pay, but hey, I was only in my twenties—I would have gotten faster. They had no clue I’d already been sacked three times previously for stealing, lifting cash . . .. Oh, surely I deserved a fourth chance—a girls gotta have money for the Chanel, at least I’m using my own stolen money, not from some sugar daddy.

“So I nicked some of the coins from the till on my way out!” I blush a little.

I don’t know why I just blushed but honestly, I’m not ashamed of that. The frustration of losing my job constantly is terrible enough to justify the petty crimes I’ve committed, and I’m sure everyone here can relate to that.

“Sam?” Ms. Freckle gazes at me, she’s like this older sister that everyone has, you know, very mature but dull, like she’s always got her shit together.

“Samantha, are you ok?”

Whoops, this is the first time she’s talked to me, I thought she didn’t know my name yet.

“Then you got caught and died, right?” The girl with some really serious square dark eyebrows asks in a casual tone. I used to do my eyebrows like that too, actually, I guess I’ve seen them a lot, but still, my eyes are fixed on that pair of black caterpillars of hers.
“No!” I howl, “That was just the beginning of my day!”
The girls move closer to me, crossing their legs and sitting comfortably.
“On the way home, I bought some lottery tickets, with those coins I just got from… you know……. Then I went home.”

I clearly remember the TV was on, I could hear it outside the door. The news was talking about the legalisation of marriage between human and robots, and how many human and robots could benefit from this new law. I also remember the high pitched “huh” I made when I heard the news — what?! I felt like I’ve been living like a caveman, I had no clue it’s a thing……Well, blame on my job, I’ve been too busy to care about other stuff.

“Do you guys know that human can now legally marry robots?” I look at them, smirking.
“……No way……” Ms. Freckle widens her eyes, she almost chokes on her gum, coughing a little.
Well, I guess I was wrong about her, she’s not that mature after all.
“Seriously?” Lady Caterpillar raises her ‘caterpillars.’
“Right?! I couldn’t believe it either.” I shake my head a little.

The music from some lab-grown lamb ad was playing in the background as I was walking towards the bedroom, Eric was packing all his stuff in a hurry, like he was running late for a flight.
He was wearing a smile on his face, until he saw me walk in.
Eric told me in his tremulous voice that he’s sorry that he has to leave me and he can’t wait to marry the robot—Abby, who he met at work so they can finally be together without being judged.

“My boyfriend left me for a robot,” I whisper to myself.
“Did you just say you were dumped because of a robot?” The girl who’s sitting next to me raises her voice. Her tan looks really natural. “Oh my god, you guys, her boyfriend dumped her to marry a robot.” She starts smirking, talking to others loudly.
Fine, I take it back, her tan is so fake and she’s a total bitch.
“Yeah…….we broke up” I put on a poker face.

So apparently he only wants a girlfriend like me so that people won’t find out about Abby, they’ve even been together longer than us. Gee……I’m such a fool.
Even just thinking about it now, I still blush a little, embarrassed and humiliated……so glad I’m dead.

“What did you do after that?” Oily bangs looks intrigued.
“She must’ve killed herself, duh.” Fake Tan looks back her.
“What do you know? Just let her continue.” Ms. Freckle argues.
“I let him go, obviously, he was so excite,.” I reply with a gloomy sigh.
The girl sits next to me looks at me, not saying a thing, slowly wrapping her arm on my shoulder, she smells like candy.
I rub her arms, smiling back at her, “ I’m ok.”
“Just when I thought it was absolutely the worst day of my life, sobbing by myself on the bed, the National Lottery draw was on and guess what, bitches? I won!! Yes, all of 15 million!!” I change my tone and raise my voice.
All the girls widened their eyes, turning to each other,
“I always want to have a bath full of money..….”
“I wouldn’t have died if I had the money to……”
“Nah, I guess that day was alright for me.” We start giggling.
“So what happened after, rich bitch?” Girl with a tattooed chest looks at me, half joking.
I look around, cross my legs, “ Well, since I was rich, I could get whatever I want, whoever I liked.”
“Yeah, treat yourself, girl!” Yells the girls with crimped hair.
“I had the best time of my life. I went crazy on shopping, I bought everything I wanted and I didn’t want, of course. I also bought a new apartment at one of the tallest buildings, it has the biggest indoor swimming pool, you guys……God I  miss that.” I take a deep breathe, beaming.
“So what was the most ridiculous thing you’ve bought?” Crimped Hair asks in a curious tone.
I look around, pausing a little, chuckling, “Well, I CAN tell you guys, but you can’t laugh at me.”
“Oh my god, did you start doing meth?” In a low voice, a girl with a muddy flower headband stares at me, talking real fast.
“Shut up, Bec!” The girl who just gave me the cuddle quickly interrupts her.
“No course not, I don’t do drugs.”—But I know she does-oh did, hopefully. I mean, I can still smell the puke she vomit all over herself, she must’ve had a disgusting overdose before she died. Gosh, what did she eat that day?

“I bought a robot that looks exactly like Chris Styles, I wanted him to be my boyfriend!”
“Wait what? You like Chris Styles?” Girl with one gigantic whitehead on her nose bursts out with mock astonishment.
“Yeah……he’s so charming, so my gosh, I……” I can feel the soft affection in my own voice.
Girl with the tattoo interprets,” Hold on, who is Chris Styles anyways?”
The rest of them are just looking as confused as her.
“Oops, I forgot you guys all died at least 30 years ago, besides you, umm…..” I point at Miss whitehead.
“Jess.” Miss whitehead replies.
I quickly nod, repeating, “……Jess”
I continue, “……He’s a French singer. Anyway all you need to know is that he was partially responsible for my death.”
“God, did he murder you?” Crimped Hair raises her eyebrows.
“Not really. It was really warm that day and I fancied a swim in our pool but I totally forgot that he said he can’t swim. I thought I could teach him, but I was wrong. Robots can’t swim because… it’s dangerous when they’re in the water……”
“Because he’s electric!” Ms.Freckle adds.
“Yup, and I dragged him in the water because I didn’t quite understand Chris’s French when he tried to explain…….”
“Oh no…….” Everyone gasps.
“Our dog—Frankie, also died, when he was trying to chase the ball in the water……” I carry on, with a sense of guilt.
“Not the dog.…..” Crimped Hair frowns.
I inhale slowly and raise my voice, “……Well, I might be dead, but at least I died rich.”


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