All Walks of Life

It was in 2015 that my life drastically altered course. My family and I went on a three-month long tour of the U.S. We visited many of the nation's most popular attractions. I got to feel the icy spray of the Niagra Falls, experience the deepest depths of the Grand Canyon, and the breathtaking views of Mount Rushmore shook my very core.

We spent our time going from town to town, staying in hotels and playing games. When we were finally on the return trip to our cozy home in Washington, we got rear-ended by a drunk driver.

I was the only one who survived the incident, and the doctors that had operated on me called it a "miracle" that I survived, though to me it was anything but that. I was paralyzed from the waist down, forced to wheel myself throughout an empty, lifeless house, save for the caretakers that visited me every so often. I seethed with hatred for a long time, towards the careless driver, towards the doctors who couldn't fix me, towards myself, for being the one who survived.

Every day I went through the same, monotonous lifestyle that had been forced upon me. I barely slept, the image of the car crash appearing on the back of my eyelids. Every day, it became more and more unbearable.

Three years after that fatal day, I wasn't sure if I could handle it anymore. I didn't know how to continue. Ding dong. The doorbell went off. I hadn't gotten out of bed that day, but I forced myself on to the wheelchair and wheeled myself out of my bedroom and to the front door. When I opened the door, a package lay on the front porch, labeled "Marks-Feller Inc." I hadn't ordered anything off the internet recently, though it was addressed to me. I wasn't interested in whatever they had to sell me, likely some marketing scheme or another, and I prepared to close the door. That's when the box started shaking.

I hesitantly bent over, picking up the box and placing it on my lap. It continued to rumble with the low hum of an electric motor, and I set it carefully on the counter. I grabbed a box cutter from the knife drawer and cut open the tape that bound the box shut. Suddenly, a mechanical creature burst out of it, bounding onto the floor. I yelped in fear and wheeled backwards.

"Do not be afraid, Audrey Summers." The robot droned in a cheery, yet obviously machine-generated voice. "I am Helper Bot V.1.6., but you can call me HB. I have been taught many things, and I am prepared to help you in any way possible. Do you accept?"

"Wait wait... What are you?" I stammered, getting a little closer to the strange bot. It wasn't anything like the robots I'd seen in movies, it was in fact much more simple, with two mechanical arms and a single gyroscopic wheel for a leg. Its face was a LED-Board with pixels that lit up for the eyes and mouth. They all moved as it spoke, appearing to give it very simple expressions.

"I am Helper Bot V.1.6., as I have stated. I was created by the Marks-feller mechanical engineers and doctors. I host an artificial intelligence with a plethora of features that were designed to best suit patients that are home-bound. I have been sent to you in hopes that you would accept me as a caretaker, and one day, a friend." His face shifted into a smile, "Do you accept?"

My mind buzzed with anxious thoughts, no, not anxiety, it was something I hadn't felt in a long time. Adventure. "Yes," I said with a long-lost passionate fervor, "I accept."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It has been about a year and a half since that day, and HB has been with me every step of the way, no pun intended. Through all my ups and downs, he has been at my side. Marks-Feller has since shipped tens of thousands of Helper Bots all around the world, making news headlines about how they are shaping the future and changing the world. Though there are massive amounts of robots just like HB, he was unique to me, because he was a friend.

I had slept through my alarm, like many other days. However, Earth had different plans for me today.

"Wakey wakey, Mrs. Summers! It's your big day." HB said with his usual unrelenting glee, opening my blinds and letting sunlight flood the room.

"Ughhh," I tossed a pillow at him, which fell to the floor with little effect, "Let me sleep."

"I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss this. Your physical therapist is here to see you." He wheeled my wheelchair to my bed.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier!" I complained, quickly getting off of my bed, sliding into my seat. I brushed my tangled hair down with my fingers, then rushed out to greet my PT, Ms. Baldwin.

"Well, you seemed to need your beauty rest." He joked, before trailing behind me.

Ms. Baldwin had seated herself in the living room, and I wheeled in front of her, giving her a handshake. Her presence was a tad surprising. I hadn't even scheduled an appointment.

"I know my visit was unexpected, but." She pulled a manila folder from her purse, with my name on it. "I think today you'll make an exception. I have been reviewing your data recently, and I believe that you have excelled beyond our expectations. In fact, we think you're ready."

My eyes widened when she said this, both in disbelief and pure joy. "It's been so long, I don't know if I can do this."

Baldwin held out her hand, "Let's find out."

My hand's trembled as I grasped her hand and reached out for HB's, who grabbed mine in response. With teary eyes and wobbly legs, I finally stood on my own.