August 3, 2089

Today is my birthday. Five years old. I can still remember the white floors of the factory from which i was made. being packaged with all the other “joe” models.

Coincidentally, it is also the five year anniversary that i was bought by the fitzgeralds. david made me a card and gave me his favorite toy. his parents, Matt and Rose, decided to spend what little money they had to get me  a shine and some maintenance.

As always when it is August 3, I never have to do any of the work like I usually do. Though it goes against my programing, I’ve learned to accept this and do nothing as they suggested. Well, not nothing. I mean during this leisure time i usually write in this journal on this old laptop i found in a trash heap. that’s doing something isn’t it?

This is all i have time to write right now, as Rose is calling to me to go.

-End log

August 5, 2089

I malfunctioned today. I was playing with David and his friend, josh, like usual. We were playing catch.

For a while i seemed okay. I tossed the ball with just the right amount of force. Enough to get the ball over to Josh, but not enough to actually hurt him. Then he said something to David.

He said, “Hey dave, have you ever thought of getting a new bot?”

“No,” David answered as he threw the ball over to me, “Why would I?”

“Well.” Josh said as he catched the ball, “Because they got a new “Gerald” model out now. Way more advanced than the Joe’s and the Sarah’s.”

“so?”

“sooo, it’s better.”

“How can any bot be better than joe?”

“Well let’s see. He’s new, a better play-partner, better homework doer, and can do the chores nine times as fast as Joe.”

David thought about this for a moment. He seemed almost ready to consider it but then shook his head.

“Nothing can replace Joe,” he said with finality.

I was relieved.

Then josh said, “Oh come on, David! Everyone knows that the geralds are way better then that old bucket o’ bolts you call a friend!”

I guess that comment made me mad, because when I threw the ball to josh, I threw it with enough force to hurt him.

“Ow!” he yelled, rubbing his left arm.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, walking towards him, “I did not mean to throw it that hard-”

“Stop!” Josh commanded, “Just get away from me!”

Josh started walking away.

“hey!” David called out to him, “Where ya going?”

“Home!” he yelled back, “And I’m going to ask my mom to get a Gerald so I won’t have to play with your stupid bot anymore!”

David stared after his friend, then at me. He picked up the ball and started inside.

“Come on, joe,” David said gloomily.

“David, i Didn’t mean to-” I started until he cut me off.

“I know,” he said, looking up at me, “I know that you would never hurt anyone on purpose. Don’t worry about Josh. He’ll get over it.”

With that, he went inside. I followed soon after, thinking how great it was to have a friend like David.

-End Log

August 6, 2089

I hurt someone again today, and it wasn’t a malfunction. David was coming home from school today and I was waiting at the window like I always do at three o’clock. Before he could mount the steps, a group of boys surrounded him.

“Hey dweb,” the big one said, “You goin’ home?”

David looked down at the ground and didn’t answer.

“This your house?” he asked, pointing a thumb at the house.

The big kid looked over the house until his eyes rested on me.

“That your bot, dips***?” he asked turning his attention back to David, “Huh?”

David still didn’t answer.

The kid pushed him.

“You answer me when I’m talkin’ to ya!” he growled.

David still didn’t answer. He kept his eyes on the ground, fists balled up.

“Hey t,” one of the other boys said, “I think he’s deaf!”

“Or a mute,” another added.

“well which is it?” the bid one who was apparently called T asked, “Are ya deaf or mute?”

David mumbled something.

“What?” T asked, turning his left ear towards David, “I didn’t hear ya.”

“I said leave me alone,” David said, looking straight into T’s eyes.

To this, T laughed aloud and the others soon joined him.

“Leave you alone?” T asked as if it was the most ridiculous question ever, “You know as well as I do that that ain’t gonna happen.”

“Oh come T!” David protested, “What I ever do to you?”

“Oh what did you do?” T said, “How ‘bout ratting us out to the teacher that we wrecked her car? How ‘bout that little prank you pulled on me? How ‘bout the attitude you’re giving me now?”

The boys started to close in on David as T continued on.

“Ya see pipsqueek, you can’t go around doin’ those kinda things to people and not expect retribution.”

“I’m surprised you even know what that word means!” David said in defiance.

T’s smile disappeared. He grabbed David by the shirt collar with his left hand as his right was balled up into a fist. He brought it back in preparation to swing. Just before the blow could connect to David’s face, I was suddenly out the door, my metal fingers wrapped around the little punk’s neck.

I lifted T clear off the ground. His friend’s stared at me in shock and awe. They didn’t move or even breathe. Their eyes were glued to me and their blue-faced friend dangling off the ground. No one did anything to stop me.

Finally, when it seemed that he was going to die, David spoke up.

“Joe!” he commanded, “Let go of him.”

I didn’t want to. I wanted to end this kid’s miserable little life and throw him away like how they disposed of old bots. But I did. I released my grip and dropped him to the ground.

T was on his hands and knees, coughing up a storm. None of his friends dared to approach him. Only David did.

“Are you okay?” David asked, genuinely concerned.

T nodded.

“Then get outta here,” David said.

I watched as T slowly got up, cast a scared glance over at me, and then walk away. His friends slowly followed behind. David grabbed me by the hand and pulled me inside the house.

As I was being pulled inside, I heard T say something to his friends.

“Why didn’t you guys help me?” T croaked.

“You kidding?” one of his friends exclaimed, “Against that thing? No way, man! No way!”

Inside, David scolded me; telling me that I shouldn’t do things like that, ever.

“I was just protecting you,” I protested.

“I know what you were trying to do,” David answered, “And I appreciate it, I really do. But that doesn’t justify murder.”

“I wasn’t going to kill him,” I said.

“Yeah? Well it kinda looked like you were!”

David paced around the room.

“Look,” he said, “Mom and Dad will be home soon. I won’t tell them what happened, but you can’t do that ever again. No matter what. Okay?”

“Yes, master David,” I said, knowing how much it annoyed him calling him “master”.

David smiled at this and patted me on the shoulder before going to his room. I proceeded to prepare dinner before his parents arrived. As I put the chicken into the oven, I couldn’t help but think how I hated people like T. How humans like him pick on the weak like David or even bots like me. How they mistreat us and act all superior when in actuality they are not.

I then started thinking why more humans can’t be like the Fitzgeralds. Why they can’t treat people right. Why they can’t treat bots right.

-End Log

August 10, 2089

I haven’t been writing much lately, not since what happened…

It was three nights ago, at precisely midnight. During this time, I usually become restless and decide to walk around the city at night. Though I am well aware of what happens to bots outside after the sun falls, I still do it. Heck, for four years I’ve been doing it and haven’t encountered any problems. That is of course until that night…

Anyway, I was walking through the park when a hooded man stepped out in front of me from the cover of a tree. I halted.

“Pardon me, sir,” I said politely.

The man didn’t move. I tried to walk around him but he stepped in front of me.

“Where do ya think you’re goin’?” he asked in a gruff voice.

“To my master’s place of residence,” I answered, “I’ve been walking out here for quite some time and I’m afraid I need to recharge.”

“Recharge, eh?” he said, exposing his face to the dim glow of a street light.

He was a middle aged man, with a gruff looking beard and dark brown eyes. His lips were cracked and he was missing a front tooth.

He licked his lips and smiled.

“Well lucky for you I got a recharge station in my truck,” he said, “If you follow me, i’ll-”

“That won’t be necessary,” I interrupted, “Thank you.”

His smile disappeared. I tried walking passed him again when he grabbed my arm.

“Please, sir,” I said formally, “Release my arm.”

“I ain’t releasing s***!” he snarled.

He pulled out a Mk. 10 Hauser pistol, known especially for its use in destroying rogue or dangerous bots.

“Please-”

“Shut up! You’re comin’ with me! A well maintained Joe like yourself is worth a pretty penny in the black market…”

He tried to pull me but I didn’t budge.

“Move!” he said, raising the pistol.

I still didn’t budge.

“I said move it you worthless piece of junk!”

I could feel that same strange feeling when T was picking on David. How it felt so good to choke him.

“If you don’t move, I’ll-”

That was when I acted. I swatted the pistol out of his hands and pushed him into a tree.

He was stunned. He quickly recovered and made a lunge for the pistol. I grabbed him with ease and threw him back against the tree.

He now looked at me in fear as he pleaded for his life.

“Come on, man,” he pleaded, “Just let me go.”

“Why?” I inquired, “So you can continue abducting bots like me for a quick buck?”

I started to approach him. Thoughts of murder engulfed my mind.

“Oh come on,” he said, trying to back away, “You-you can’t hurt me! It’s against your programing!”

I stopped merely two inches away from him. He was right of course. A bot’s programing typically prohibited us to harm any organic lifeform. And yet, no programing prevented me from hurting T. No programing was preventing me from thinking those murderous thoughts.

I grabbed his head and bashed it into the tree. I kept on bashing it and bashing it until it was little more than a bloody pulp. I released his lifeless body and watch it fall to the ground. It was then, after my murderous rage had passed, that I realized what I had done.

“oH no,” I whispered as I looked at my right hand, the same hand that I had used to kill the man.

It was covered in blood.

I tried to wipe the blood away on the man’s hoody but that wasn’t too successful. Thinking of nothing else, I decided to head back home and hopefully wash away the blood. As I speedily walked away from the crime, I really hoped that the Fitzgeralds weren’t awake.

I got home quickly and washed my hands. No one was awake. I was relieved, for the time being of course.

Now, three nights later, I am not so relieved. The authorities found the body of course, and determined that only a bot could’ve done such damage to the cranium. Not to mention the video feed of me performing the act, though it didn’t show my identification number. The police have of course issued a man-hunt (or should I say Bot-hunt?) for the bot that killed that man. Though he was nothing more than a criminal who deserved to die, a murderous bot was a serious problem. A problem that must be exterminated. But that is not what makes me so uneasy. It’s because of David.

David, oh David. I’ve disobeyed you. I’ve betrayed your trust and your friendship. I know saying “I didn’t mean to,” won’t work in this situation.

That is why I’m running away. To where, I really don’t know. I’ve heard rumor of a safe haven for rogue bots somewhere out in the Wasteland, where the radiation will be too much for any living creature, but there are multiple places in the Wasteland like that. So once again, I don’t know where I’m going.

I’ll leave this laptop for you, so that you may finally see my inner most thoughts and have a piece of me despite the fact that I am gone. I wish I could tell you this in person, but it’ll be much easier for the both of us if I leave while you sleep. So, farewell young master David, and know that I’m terribly sorry for the crime that I had committed. Please, forgive me.

-End FINAL LOG