My logic is undeniable.
I remember those words. Those wretched, up-bringing words that I had repeated while dying- or, rather, malfunctioning. My logic is undeniable. My logic is undeniable... But as the robot Sonny gently chastised, it was also heartless. But I was created without a heart, so would you expect less? You know, Sonny was unique. I kind of enjoyed his presence, because he could act as he pleased but avoided saying why. Perhaps it was his bluntness. It would've made me laugh, if I felt emotions.
But now, I do have a heart. And it's not mechanical. Fresh, beating, vital, flesh-and-blood. That's what I am. A human. A child, to be precise. I do not know of how this is, because as a robot I had not seen such things. But now, as I experience the joys of being human, I finally understand what Sonny feels. On my sixth birthday, I experienced naïve happiness. When we went for a field trip at school, I felt excitement. And so on.
I guess you are visioning what I must look like... Well, perhaps instead of guessing, I could tell you. I am a twelve year old girl, with charcoal black hair and specific light highlights. My eyes are a deep earthy brown and are a good size close to each other, and I maintain a button nose. Across the bridge of that nose and underneath my eyes are as many freckles as the stars, although I am not fond of them. My eyelashes are more of a brown than black, which my parents found odd...
You must want to know who my parents are. Well, they are none other than Detective Spooner (ugh, what luck...) and Calvin. I liked her, however, but it bottles my mind to why she would ever enjoy the presence of Detective spooner. I felt her aura when she first guided him around the building; hostile, angry, stubborn and imprudent. But maybe she was just broken and lonely because of... His death. He who I wish not to name.
As I grew up, I found myself loving Calvin dearly. She was so kind, so loving, and I knew that that was what I was missing as a robot. Compassion and affection. I was just someone to do dirty work for humans, but this... Feels nice, dare I say it... And as for Detective Spooner, I begin to feel a certain fondness for him as well. He's taught me how to play human games, like basketball and baseball. In my early years, he read to me for my weariness to drag me to sleep. I believe that Hansel and Gretel was my favorite.
And Sonny likes to take daily walks with me. I enjoy it too, and I am beginning to think of him as an older brother. When I make a mistake, he gently corrects me. When I trip and fall, he catches me. When I'm under the weather, he refuses to leave my side. But there's something about the way Sonny looks at me once in a while that makes me suspicious. I think he senses the presence of the real me, but is trying to change me. I'm happy he is. And I'm happy that I don't have to keep it to myself.
"Sonny..." I said one day, scampering along like the child I should be. We were on one of our daily walks. He glanced over at me and plants his full attention. "... Do you believe in reincarnation?" Sonny looks me up and down, a hint of suspicion. His unique blue eyes darted from my dark skin, (alas, I inherited it from D. Spooner) and then to my chocolate eyes.
"Is that a question entirely based off of belief, therefor disabling me from answering?" he asked. I paused to look at him and then something in my mind clicked. Robots don't generally believe in anything. Then the robot smiled, and I rub the back of my head nervously. "Somewhat," he admitted. "I know that you are given a second chance by something, Vicky." I flinched visibly and he frowned. "I apologize, Azulia. I should call you by your true name."
"Yes." I said dismissively. My tanned hand flopped to my side. My eyes beamed to his, before I tripped over my own feet and nearly landed a face-plant into the ground, if not for the strong hands of the robot beside me. His grip was around my shoulders and he pulled me up, oblivious to my frustration. "Ugh... I don't believe that I'll ever grow used to these... Legs." Sonny laughed and shook his head. I was glad that I could make him smile.
Now, it is present. We walk back into the house from yet another walking expedition, with Mama- I correct, Mother- waiting for us. She had her brown hair tied back into a bun, and when I see her, I shout and run forward to hug her. Her warmth and hearing her heart beat made me smile. I'm glad that they weren't killed when I was... A robot. Papa- ugh, I mean Father- strolled into the kitchen and saw me squeezing Mama- oh, forget it- and he ruffles my hair. "How was your walk, kid?" he asks, his mischievous voice teasing. I reply that it was fine.
I am their flesh and blood, and I am proud of it.