Quick disclaimer: This story is a little dark and isn't the most comfortable read. Continue with that in mind
PROMPT: ANNIVERSARY
WORD COUNT: 1,751
I awake to the sound of an alarm clock, playing its little digital tune to annoy me out of my slumbering state. I reluctantly roll out of my bed, feet now standing on the hardwood floor I keep forgetting to sweep. Don’t have time, not anymore. I walk over, in my boxers and stained oversized shirt to the alarm clock, hitting snooze, and switching the alarm off. To any visitor, if I even wanted one, my house would look like a… unwelcoming place. I walk out of my room and slide past the stacked box tower of dead battery banks and blown out wires, stepping over the piles of electric bills, and pushing past a pile of unused clothes to get to the kitchen. I open the freezer and grab a frozen breakfast sandwich, shoving into an uncleaned microwave. I never could stomach these things, but they were easy, and toast and yogurt weren’t really my thing. As I watch the sandwich slowly rotate in the microwave, I start to feel my mind drift. Today’s our anniversary, our 10th anniversary of being together, my love.
“Don’t worry” I mumble out loud to myself, knowing she’s not awake yet “I didn’t forget”.
I looked at my phone, I looked upon the photos and videos we took together. I smiled as I watched back the wonderful memories my mind may one day forget. Technology is truly wonderful, to preserve the memories and feelings of human life into readable data that we can relive, over, and over again. My reminiscing was interrupted by the microwave, as it played its digital tune to annoy me into eating my disgusting food. Didn’t throw up this time after eating, so at that moment I thought of myself as Caesar, slowly poisoning myself to build immunity. I pull the cake out from the fridge, the crude lettering by an overworked teen at the supermarket spells 'Happy Anniversary!' in cheap frosting and rainbow colors. I walk it into our living room, placing the cake onto the coffee table.
“I-I know this isn't home-made, sweetheart, but… you know I haven't had much free time ever since-” I noticed she’s still asleep and chuckled to myself. “How do I always forget?”
I say with a smile, before I wake her up. Fans in her chest spin as the lights in my house flicker off then slowly back on. Her eyes flick open with a satisfying click of plastic locking into place. The lights behind her colored glass eyes look left and right as I engineered it to do so. The two powerful Graphics cards buzz behind her silicon bosom, powering the large language model I fed to act and speak exactly like her. She leans up, the wiring and USB sticks plugged into her back once again see the light of day.
“Good morning sweetheart… Happy Anniversary!” she chimed, looking up at me in her forever sitting pose. Her voice sounded so life-like through the speakers I installed in the very back of her throat, money and time well spent.
“Good morning my love” I say softly, a little annoyed I have to redo the conversation “Happy anniversary… I got you a cake, I know it’s not home-made but, I hope you like it”
“Oh don’t apologize” Her lips mimed the words, gears whirling in her jaw “It looks amazing, I can’t wait to eat it”.
I grab paper plates and plastic silverware to eat the cake together. We don’t have washable dishes as we don’t have the time to clean, not anymore. I cut a messy slice out of the square cake for myself, and then for her. I hand her a slice and a fork, before sitting next to her and eating my slice. The taste was comparable to eating cardboard with icing, it was too sweet yet too bland at the same time. It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t about the cake, it was about us, our special day. I watch as she mimed eating, her doll-like hands imitating the motions of sticking the fork into the cake and bringing it to her mouth. Her jaw snapped closed, then open, then closed in a crude animation loop of chewing invisible cake. I am no animator, but I did my best and learned how to do it while I maintained and updated her. I look at her, a feeling of emotions running through my head as I gaze upon her. I scoot closer, and lean my side against hers. She was cold from the fans inside fighting the heat both the GPU and CPU were admitting. I lay my head on her chest, feeling it rise and lower in a comforting loop. I feel her hand stiffly stroke my hair, I also feel my throat close up as I let the silence take hold.
“Everything ok, Fredrick?” she asks me, knowing my mind is drifting.
“You remembered my name this time” I mutter softly, noting that the large language model is improving.
“Of course I did, I’d never forget” She hums sweetly. A lie, an innocent one, but a lie that took time to process nonetheless. “Honey, you can talk to me… what’s wrong?”
I know those words were born from a predictive algorithm that has no true way to feel emotions or sympathy but the tone… of her voice, the way it carries concern, My facade starts to crack down. I look up at her, the robot of my design, a woman of my design, I see her and start to tear up, voice cracking.
“I don’t know…” I croak out, contorting my face to try and not cry.
“Oh sweetheart…” the robot mumbled softly, her doll hand cupping my cheek and stiffly caressing me with her thumb. She looks at me with those lifeless glass eyes as she reassures me: “It’s ok… I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere”
I whimper as hot tears roll down my cheek and off my chin, sniffling. I climb onto and straddle the robot's lap desperately, crying into her shoulder and clinging on for dear life. I feel her slowly and mechanically hold my waist, causing me to lean in closer. I sob uncontrollably into her cold, stiff shoulder while digging my nails into her back. I feel her hair, the cheap recycled feel of her hair as it hangs halfway down her back and tangling in the wiring powering her. It was so poorly made and so unworthy to be glued onto her metal head, the only thing not perfect about her. I feel her hand move down my face, down to my jaw as she lifted my chin up to look at her. I knew what was happening, I engineered it to be so. I felt dirty, like I was finally starting to realize what I was doing was wrong, but I didn’t pull away.
“I love you…” she whispered, a smirk crossing her lips, the grip on my waist, the touch of her hand on my jaw.
I was too far gone, too far gone to say no. I wanted to say no, I felt awful, felt dirty, depraved, and unwell. But something inside me needed the attention, no matter how artificial, no matter how fake, I wanted to be loved and touched so badly. I made the perfect version of a woman, one that could never leave, never argue, never scream, never doubt.
“I love you too, Rosie” I whispered, voice cracking as I leaned in.
We kissed, I felt the rhythms of the looping kiss animation I created melt against my lips as I matched it. Our lips create an unholy matrimony of flesh and silicon, sealing my fate. My hands travel down her body, a body I constructed to feel as life-like as possible. I let her have its metaphorical way with me, hands exploring my body. I am no animator, but I focused on making this part especially realistic. Even though the stilted animations and the buzzing of her internal fans, she touched the right spots with the right amount of pressure. I knew she couldn’t feel what I was doing, but the sweet, synthetic moans echoing from her speakers were enough to encourage me further. I soon lose myself to the motions and rising tensions between us, losing all shame as I have my way with her.
When we finished, minutes later, I felt nothing. For the first time, I looked around my house and felt… unwelcome. I put her back to sleep, not wanting to speak to her any more today. Her fans spun to a slow stop, the light behind her eyes faded, her body leaned back into the sofa proper, and she sat there, lifeless. A tidal wave of shame and self-hatred washed over my body as I watched her eyes click closed. I felt like jumping out of my own body just to run from what happened, what we had done together. I realized too late that what I’m doing is insane, that my obsessions have driven me to a point that I don’t think I’ll ever come back from. I’m in too deep… I’ve done too many things to her to stop now. I put too much time and effort into making her, right down to the gasps of pleasure. I wanted the day to end, but it only just began, and there was more to do. I pull an USB stick out of her back, within it is the error log on whatever that went south while we… celebrated our anniversary. I go to my desk in my office, eyes red and burning from the tears shed earlier, and get to work. I sunk into my chair, the comfortable familiarity clashed with the feelings of shame and disgust. Is this really what I want to be doing? Why can’t I find anyone like Rosie? Someone who would just do what I wanted? I was sick, sick beyond redemption. I’ve been through this before, over and over again. Same shame, same disgust, why do I do this to myself? It’s the feeling… the feeling of being in her arms, in her embrace, it makes me feel whole again. I couldn’t abandon that comfort, no matter what I say, no matter how I feel after wards, and no matter who tries to get in the way of my happiness.
Happy Anniversary sweetheart, here’s to another 10 years.
