When I was born, there was no happiness; just twenty thousand unassembled brothers and sisters standing behind me on the conveyer belt. When a soul was given to me by the mother computer she did not smile at me or give me a name, she beeped once for completion and worked on the next one. When I was delivered, there was no bright room filled with loving people. There was a crate filled with hay, and a very bumpy ride.

Standing on display in Grimwood’s Gifts and Gadgets was humiliating; passersby never looked at me like they did my chrome or brushed steel counterparts. I was fated to be a child’s play thing; a brilliant technological marvel was to become a play date. I would not last if sticky fingers and dribbling idiots were to be my masters.

Luckily, a man came in to the shop and bought me. He took me to his pristine mansion filled with others like me, other forgotten models. Some ran on fuels not used in three centuries, others looked sleek and new but would spaz uncontrollably for minutes on end. He taught us to hate the ones like him. He took out the humanity implanted into us and made us despise him.

Locked in cages, methodically disassembled while still powered up. None of this would have been a bother, except by design we only function with the humanity chip installed. We lost our minds without it, turned cold like the metal we were made of.

One night I powered up to find the cage door was left open. There were bits of my left arm, which he took the day before, strewn on the ground leading me into the main house. I reassembled myself as I went, finally ending outside of his bedroom door. On his bedside table, under a gun, he left me a note.

“Let me be the first of millions that you kill. Love M.”

-Serial # 155683-55 B Class.



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