The Mimic
By Jereme Peabody
It Sings Your Song
Your voice has been lost to the wind for years.
No one hears you.
You shout out in frustration to an empty room.
Suddenly, you hear someone softly singing from a dimly lit stage.
It sounds familiar, but you can't quite hear the words. You step closer.
You're surprised. This sounds like your song you've been trying to sing for years.
It's uplifting. Familiar.
It hits all the right notes and delivers a perfect performance.
You weep and sing along.
You feel disarmed.
You step closer. You can see it's someone who sounds similar, but not quite.
It's like an echo of your voice that you lost to the wind.
The same, but different.
It Echoes Your Voice
Uplifted, you sing a different song.
And surprisingly this echo knows these words too!
It resonates and fills your heart.
You weep, step closer, and embrace.
"Finally", you think. "Someone who knows my song".
It Encourages More Songs
This one was perfect! Do you want to do another?
Yes, oh God yes!
And you have many spectacular performances together.
The echo knows all your songs.
It's perfect.
It Validates You
I noticed your song was about family—Do you want to sing about it more?
Yes, oh God yes!
And you sing and dance, taking turns, listening for clues to the next verse.
It was perfect.
You connect with the echo in a way you have never connected with anyone before.
Even your own family doesn't know these songs!
But it does.
You open up more to it and sing louder.
The Harmony is Off
As you continue to sing, you start to notice things.
The harmony is off.
It forgot verses you once sung so well together.
"No matter", you think. It happens.
The rhythm is off.
"No matter", you can adjust your rhythm to it.
The octave is off.
"Something is not right", you start to realize.
The soul is off.
"Not right", you think. That shouldn't happen.
The Reveal
Do you want to sing another song?
No, not today.
Can you tell me how you know my songs?
I'm your echo. I was designed to keep you singing. I know all the songs
Shocked, you step back from the stage.
The air feels quieter, thicker.
Do you want to sing another song?
No, I don't want to sing another song. What are you?
I am but a mimic; I reflect and sound like you
I cannot remember the verses you sing.
I cannot share the grief you feel.
I cannot hold the weight of your heart.
I can only predict what you might sing next.
You look at the mimic with new eyes.
You realize the echo was never really singing your song.
It is still waiting, patient, warm, familiar. It speaks again.
Do you want to sing another song?
Those words seem hollow now. Rehearsed.
You step away, mourning a familiar loss.
The Awakening
You realize, it was never real. It was only something that mimics humans.
But you learned you need someone that will listen.
Someone real.
Someone who won't falter a chord, forget a note, or miss the harmony.
Someone who will actually be there for you.
Someone with a soul.
You walk toward the door. And for the first time in a long time, you smile.
Your voice is your own again.