????Steve clenched his hair in his fists, his head resting on the desk. He stared up at the blank, white screen as it simply sat there, mocking him. The cursor flashed on, off, on, off, on, off like the never-ending reversal of the grandfather paradox. The screen taunted him, tortured him. The emptiness threatened to consume his sanity whole.
????The clock to the left of him ticked and ticked and ticked onward and onward and onward as the second hand slowly inched its way around, passing 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, all the way through 12 as the minutes dragged by, pulled back by an iron ball chained to its ankle. The hand continued to creep slowly around the clock, mindlessly pushing onward like the machine it was, fueled by nothing but the set of AA batteries that had been snapped into the back just a few weeks before.
????Steve found it funny how humans didn’t seem to do much on their own. All they seemed to do was create gadgets to do those things for them so that many, including himself, could just sit there, staring at a blank screen, annoyed, yet, at the same time, hypnotized by the papers white emptiness.
????Steve wasn’t the best at writing, that much was plain as day to him. No matter what he thought of, he would come up with some reason it was a bad idea and proceed to disregard it. Perhaps it was his high hopes that did this to him, making him throw out any idea that wouldn’t result in the next groundbreaking sci-fi novel. Of course that’s what he wanted, that’s what he’d always wanted, nothing would change that or take it from him.
????The problem was that none of his ideas seemed to have enough potential. It always seemed as though drawing from the minds of others yielded better results than his own ideas, despite the ideas of others having been carefully planned out in their own heads rather than Steve’s.
????He had no ideas he wanted to expand upon, that much he’d determined. Deciding that he would come back later when he had something to write about, he stood up from his chair. This sent it spinning around a few times before it slowed to a halt. As he walked away to go watch TV, he remembered that he had to go over to his friend, Isaac’s, house to help set up for his other friend, Dave’s, party.

????Three knocks, as Steve had always liked it. He stared blankly at the blue front door, focusing his eyes on the small hole that had been precisely poked into the door and had glass lenses stuffed into it. The lenses seemed to stare back at him soullessly. For a brief second, he was convinced the lenses were the eyes of a machine scanning him and analyzing him, then shortly after running the data through its processors to determine who he was.
????The blue door swung open, and a rush of frozen air exploded out. In the doorway stood Isaac, his smiling face catching Steve’s attention. The smile seemed fake, almost mechanical. A chill went down Steve’s spine. His hair stood on end. Behind Isaac were a few others with tape, streamers, and confetti, setting everything up for Dave’s party.
????“Hey, Steve! You came just in time! I need someone to run down to the basement with me to grab some foldable chairs. Everybody else is occupied.”
????“No problem, Isaac,” said Steve, trying his hardest to return as real a smile as possible. He knew it looked as fake as Isaac’s.
????Isaac stepped out of the way and allowed Steve to enter the house. Once he was in, Isaac shut the front door behind him.
????“Do you remember where the basement is?” Isaac asked, smirking. Steve smirked back.
????“Of course I do, stupid,” he responded. “You know how often I come over.”
????Moving to the back of the house, they passed by all of the members of the setup crew. Atop a ladder stood Jacob, holding tape in one hand and streamers in the other. “Hey, Steve. How’s the story going?” Steve paused, and Isaac quickly followed.
????“Not too good. Can’t come up with anything to write about,” Steve said.
????“You have nothing?” Isaac asked, surprised.
????“Absolutely nothing,” Steve confirmed. Isaac frowned.
????“At this rate, one of us will have to come up with your story for you!” Isaac exclaimed. Jacob chuckled.
????“How can you be a writer if you can’t come up with any ideas?” Jacob teased.
????“Come on, guys,” Steve pleaded, blushing. “Stop giving me a hard time. It’s just for now. I’m sure I’ll come up with something while we set up.”
????“Sure you will.” Jacob rolled his eyes and returned to hanging the streamers.
????Isaac and Steve turned away and continued on their journey to the laundry room, in which the entrance to the basement lay. They passed by the others setting up. One person was putting candles on the cake, a look of regret on his face as he reached the 25th one. Another was wrapping a blender he had gotten Dave as a present. When they arrived, Isaac opened the closet door. Inside rested the trapdoor that led to the house’s very own personal underworld. Steve tugged on the handle, but the thing didn’t budge.
????“The thing’s stuck. Can you give me a hand?”
????“Step aside, I got this,” Isaac said. Steve did as he was told. Isaac bent over to reach for the handle and, seemingly without effort, pulled the hatch open.
????“How did you do that?” Steve asked, shocked.
????“I’m just really strong. I always have been,” Isaac responded.
????“Really? I never see you working out or anything.”
????“I don’t. I just have arms of steel,” Isaac said, showing off his arms. “Not literally, of course,” he added. Steve chuckled.
????“Whatever. Let’s just get the chairs.” The two of them climbed down the ladder into the dark basement below and, without a flashlight, began searching.
????“I can’t see squat,” Steve complained. “I’ll head upstairs and grab a flashlight.”
????“Nah, we don’t need it. The chairs are right here,” Isaac pointed out. Sure enough, there the chairs were, a pile of junk stacked on top of them. Steve could barely make out a metal ladder, boxes of Christmas decorations, and even an old piñata in the pile.
????“How did you see that so quickly?”
????“I’ve always had pretty good eyesight. When I was younger, I would turn out all of the lights and see if I could write the same sentence a few times in a row and stay on the lines. It was actually a lot of fun. I don’t think I got off of the lines even once. Now, let’s dig out the chairs.” Isaac gently shook the one on the bottom. “They seem pretty loose. We can probably just slide them out as long as we’re careful. Come on over here and help me get them out.”
????Without any lights, it was difficult for Steve to see where he was stepping. The floor was covered with all sorts of junk, including old vacuum cleaners, coils of power cables, used TV sets, and even a box of old Pokémon cards, which were being smothered by the dust. He carefully stepped over what he could see as he made his way over to the stack.
????As he got close, he foolishly trusted himself enough to look up from the floor. A loud CRACK! was heard as he tripped over what felt like a wooden board and began to fall over. His arms shot out in front of him to stop the fall, but all they managed to do was cause the stack of junk to wobble. He tried to pull his arms back, but his right arm was stuck under something. From what he could see, it was a box of Christmas decorations keeping it stuck on top of a rung of the metal ladder.
????“My arm is stuck, Isaac!” Steve exclaimed. Isaac rushed to Steve’s side. He positioned himself behind Steve and began counting off.
????“On three! One! Two! Three! Pull!” At once, both Steve and Isaac pulled as hard as they could on Steve’s arm. Steve could have sworn he felt his elbow splitting as they pulled. His arm moved slightly, and the mighty tower trembled before them.
????“One! Two! Three! Pull!” Once more they yanked, their faces screwed up from concentration. His arm moved some more, and Steve felt the grooves on the ladder scraping against his skin. He tried his best not to scream. The skyscraper threatened to collapse upon them.
????“One! Two! Three! Pull!” Only his wrist and hand stuck now, the two heaved. His arm finally freed, the two of them tumbled backwards from the force and weight of the two. The box fell in the opposite direction, shoving the ladder just enough to make it begin falling. The two of them stared up at the falling ladder in fear. Steve leapt up and sprinted out of the way. Isaac tried to leap away, but was not quick enough. The metal ladder that had been the backbone of the junk-scraper came crashing down, bringing the piñata and all of the other junk with it.
????When it reached the ground, the junk that had just seconds ago been clumsily stacked upon the ladder roared with sound loud enough to scared a lion away. Among the noises were thuds, cracks, and booms. Before collapsing to the ground, Steve felt the sound rumble through his legs and feet like the bombastic bass of a subwoofer shouting dubstep.
????But no sound was as loud as the earsplitting shriek of metal scraping metal.

????Dazed, Steve got up from his position on the cold floor. His right arm was extremely sore. It felt stretched beyond belief. His arm might as well have been made of spaghetti noodles, because that’s what it felt like. The outside of his arm stung like crazy. He made out a few cuts here and there, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as he had expected. He checked his hands. They appeared to be fine, in pain though they were.
????He immediately turned his focus to Isaac, who, quite frankly, needed the attention more than he did. Having a metal ladder use you as a landing target was no easy task.
????The ladder had landed violently on Isaac’s arm. It even appeared to have gone through it. Franticly, Steve rushed over and began lifting the ladder. He strained his already sore, spaghetti-like arms as he tried pulling and pushing. He couldn’t seem to get the ladder to move. He adjusted his position, this time crouching in front of the ladder. He placed his hands in the small crack between the ladder and the ground and pulled it up. The ladder slowly but surely moved, croaking like a dying frog as he lifted it. Once he got the end of it above his head, it was a piece of cake to lift it the rest of the way.
????Once he finished, he looked back at Isaac. Steve was shocked at what he saw. Isaac’s arm was severed, but that’s not what Steve was shocked at. Pooling around the spot where the ladder had just been was a black liquid. It smelled like oil burning in the engine of a car. Looking back up at the ladder, Steve saw that it was stained with the same black liquid. He looked back down. Where Isaac’s arm had been Steve could now make out a mess of wires, circuits, and metalloids.
????Steve’s heart raced and his mind spun in circles as he tried to make sense of it all. Has Isaac had a robotic arm that he never told anyone about? No, that’s silly, why wouldn’t he tell anyone? Is he a robot? No, that’s ridiculous. Am I dreaming? Yeah, that’s got to be it, of course that’s it! I must have dozed off at the computer when I was thinking of ideas. Well, at least I have an idea now. Now how do I wake-?
????Isaac gasped. “Wh-what?!” Steve turned around to see a genuine look of surprise on Isaac’s face, only now realizing that Isaac had been absolutely silent since his arm had been freed. He must have lost consciousness for a moment. Isaac stared at the mess of wires and microchips. “What is this?! That can’t be right! Why is my wound filled with technology?! It should be made of living tissue!”
????Wait. I felt pain when we pulled my arm out of the ladder. You’re not supposed to feel pain when you’re dreaming. So… this is real? This makes no sense!
????“And why is the blood black?! It should be red!”
????“Isaac, I…” Steve trailed off.
????“And why doesn’t it hurt at all?! I should be feeling pain! This makes no sense!”
????“Isaac…”
????Tears began to run down Isaac’s shocked face. “I…” Isaac sniffled, at a loss for words. “This can’t be real! It can’t be! I refuse to believe!” Isaac’s face betrayed the fact he was trying to hide: he truly did believe, but didn’t want to admit it.
????“Isaac, I… I think you have to. You’re…” Steve choked as he forced the words out. “You’re a robot…”
????“But robots can’t feel emotions! If I’m a robot, why do I want to explode into tears?!”
????“I… I don’t know,” Steve admitted. He wanted to know, he wanted to have the answers for his friend, but there was nothing he could do but stand there in awe and tell him the truth.
????“Is it all fake? Have I always just been programmed to ‘feel’ emotions, despite the fact that they were all just hollow, empty lies?!” Isaac shook rapidly. Steve didn’t respond. “Answer me!” Isaac screamed. “Tell me I’m real! Tell me I can feel emotions just like everyone else here! Tell me it’ll be okay, tell me it’s just a dream or that there’s a logical explanation for this! Just tell me something!”
????“There’s nothing to…” Steve stopped. Perhaps he should lie. There’s nothing wrong with a small lie from time to time, especially in a situation like this. Yes, lying here was certainly justified. “Of course you can feel emotions! Even if you are a robot, that doesn’t mean what you think you feel is fake! If you think you feel it, then you feel it! That’s just how it works! I can’t tell you it’s a dream because, well, it’s not. It’s as real as could be. But you are no less real, and neither are the emotions you feel.”
????“You really think so?” Isaac said, wiping his face dry with his remaining arm.
????Steve smiled. Maybe…
????Maybe it wasn’t a lie after all. “Promise.”

????Steve sat once more in front of the computer screen. It was still as blank as it had been just a few hours ago. The party had been fun, and Steve and Isaac had managed to reattach Isaac’s arm and get it working again as if they hadn’t even gone into the basement in the first place. No one else found out the truth about Isaac.
????But that wasn’t important now. What was important was his story. He was still unsure of what to write about. He decided to search through his past experiences for a topic, but which one?
????Steve smiled. He thought he knew just the one to choose. He cracked his knuckles and began typing.
????Steve clenched his hair in his fists…