Gradually, my optical sensors came back online, blurred by a light streaming through the window As my vision cleared, it revealed a small structure with minimal decorations on the walls It reminded me of what beachgoers would describe as an apartment As my optical sensors took in my surroundings, my sensors registered a gentle weight against my shoulder.
It was the young boy who had come back for me and tried to pull me out of the water. His chest rose slowly and evenly, his lips curved upward in an expression that looked pleasant. As my memories fell back into place, a faint, almost inaudible groan escaped his lips, drawing my attention back to him. My hand instinctively started stroking his back. My eyes widened, taking in the sight of his gentle skin moving beneath my fingertips and a unique sensation stirring deep within me. It reminded me of when a mother had lost her child on the beach. She looked around frantically for any sign of her little one, and when she found her, she clasped the child, not letting go for several minutes. Her face held an expression that looked like she had found the greatest treasure. As the memory faded, the boy shifted his weight against me, pulling closer to me. It felt right, even as my eyes widened at the realization that my hand hadn’t stopped caressing his back.
Hours went by before the young boy opened his eyes, blinking a few times. His vision cleared, and his eyes illuminated like the night sky. Multiple expressions followed as he reached out and cupped my cheek, murmuring under his breath, It worked.
You’re alive. My facial motors went blank at the unfamiliar word, my mind racing to understand what he meant. My excitement dimmed as he saw the confused look etched on my face. This robot female labor unit had never heard the term. My inner thoughts were interrupted as she questioned what the word meant. My mind immediately went to the textbook definition: to have life, to be living, or to exist in a state where you are not dead. But most people would not consider her alive or living because she doesn’t have skin or flesh, and she’s not an organism—she is a machine to them. Yet, her actions show she can feel emotions. Even now, her confused expressions are perfect examples of emotions personified despite never being designed with them.
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Her only purpose was to obey and receive commands. An alarm sounded from my computer, alerting it was time to get ready, ending my thought. The RFL unit watched as I gathered my backpack and other supplies and headed towards the door. Don’t go anywhere, she replied Yes, Owner. her words brought my feet to a halt. My mind reeled, understanding that despite me saving her from being destroyed, she still couldn’t see herself as being free. With a heavy heart and the bus honking, urging me forward, I paused at the doorway before running back to her, kissing her cheek, whispering in her ear, Don’t call me owner. Just call me Johnny. Her face contorted in expressions of embarrassment and awe. I ran out the door and boarded the bus, making my way to the back where my friend was sitting, glaring at me with a disgusted look, along with everyone
He read the confusion on my face and explained, annoyed; You saved a robot that was to be recycled and spent your three-day weekend doing it. Do you even remember what they did to the world during the war? Do you know how many people died because of them? His words cut deep, but for him, they weren’t unjustified. During the war, I remember him retelling how his father died fighting one of them off to protect his mother. My mouth opened for a second, then closed, knowing there was nothing to be said. Except, you’re wrong. She doesn’t deserve to be destroyed. You don’t know what she did. His eyes flared, and he turned towards the window, refusing to look at me.
