It has been a while since I did fiction. So I thought I should give it a try just to see how it goes.
On nights like this, the house is cold. The fire that cackles in front of me does nothing to bring warmth, the hot mug of chocolate tastes like iced revenge and even the beating of my heart is slow. It feels like there are a thousand needles prickling my feet; her sigh seems distance but she’s right there next to me. Yeah, we did it again, fought. We seem to do it a lot these days; every day to be exact. It is always my fault though- at least that’s what she says or believes – if it is not one thing it is the other; she picks them like chaff (stones?) from rice. I am not perfect; I cannot be; she on the other hand is… How do I say this? Fucking Perfect. That’s what I will call her; for the purpose of this story, Fucking Perfect.
“How long will you stay mad at me?” I ask
She looks at me; her stare almost blank save for her beautiful brown iris. She shifts in her seat a little bit; just enough for me to notice her turn her back against me.
“That mad huh?” I retort
I scoot closer to her and place a hand on her left shoulder, it is slender and warm. She twitches; tilts her head back just enough for her hair to brush against my hand. She then tilts it so her cheek lays on it; it’s warm. The needles in my feet begin to disappear. She lets out another sigh; a long one this time. I have come over the years to decipher what they mean. Short and silent sighs mean she is tired. Silent almost unnoticeable sighs means she is angry but waiting for my move. Loud sighs… they mean a storm is brewing in her mind and soon she will let it pour.
“I’m not mad” she starts. She turns around and looks at me; my eyes avoid hers. I cannot face her; at least not now. Not during this conversation.
“You just…”she lets out another loud sigh “… you just don’t seem to care anymore about my feelings.”
I can swear on the grave of someone I once loved that this is what she always says. Her words ring with a familiar echo inside my head. I roll my eyes; here we go again.
“What do you mean? I come home to you every night right? I tell you where I am, who I am with; not like you already don’t know but I still do.”
“Yes. You do. But that’s not it.”
“What is then? What is it?”
“I do not want you to tell me where you are. I want you to take me with you. Is it that hard?”
“It is not that hard, it is hard! We have had this conversation before.”
“I know and we will keep having it until I know what’s wrong. Are you ashamed of me? Embarrassed maybe? Or my eyes are only beautiful when it is just the two of us?”
“People won’t understand. They just won’t.”
“It is not that simple. You cannot control people with commands like you can…”my voice trails off.
“Say it! Like you can who? Me?”
She bursts into tears; which always gets me worried. You see Fucking Perfect is not like other girls; she’s fucking perfect. She is a robot with advanced AI that seemed like a good idea to have in the first place. She was fun; could play chess, analyze football matches with me and even watch through the Godfather no questions asked. She literally was Fucking Perfect; also she came with all the perks a girl normally comes with. I had my fun but I did not anticipate her AI learning and growing as fast as it did. It got to a point where she started developing EI as well; her emotions began to grow. It was weird and fun at the same time; having conversations I knew were not controlled by her programming was enticing. Then she started changing; instead of feeding her AI more; she fed her EI. Disaster.
“Well, yes! What do you want me to say?”
“So this is it huh? The end?”
“What does that even mean? The end? You cannot end something that has never even been.”
For the first time I can hear the whirrs in her processing chip. I must have struck a nerve. She cannot seem to find an explanation to what is happening. Maybe she does have emotions as real as a human beings; after all what are emotions if not just messed up thoughts and misplaced priorities?
“So this is what it is like?” she finally replies
“I would not know. You don’t even have a heart.”
Maybe I pushed it too far. Maybe I should not have confronted her humanity or lack of. Maybe I should have just been a normal guy and said sorry. She went silent and I’ve never heard from her again; and now the house… this house… it is cold again.