A Robots Dream

I woke up in darkness. My eyes seemed to cast a soft blue glow around the space, slightly illuminating everything around me. There was a metal table that acted as my bed, crates littered around the room that seemed to be filled with miscellaneous parts, such as spare hands or feet, and there were wires hanging from the ceiling, dangling in my face. I tried to formulate coherent thoughts. 

"Why am I here?" I asked aloud. "This is a robot sanctuary...aren't I human?" I received no response, prompting me to sit up, confused and dazed, and get off of the table. 

Taking a few deep breaths, I started to walk to try to find a way out of the room, letting my strangely bioluminescent eyes be my guide. I eventually found my way out of the room, being met with the loud, grating sound of an alarm. There were dozens of footsteps coming my way. Judging from the clunking sound, they must have been booted feet.

As I looked around in obvious confusion, a group of people came bursting out of a door. They were wearing all-blue uniforms, save for their black hats and boots, and wielded quite deadly looking batons. The alarm continued to blare as I stared at them, wonder and awe evident on my face. They looked so professional! Suddenly, they charged at me, causing me to take off running and try to find a way to get out of the situation that wouldn't result in loss of life. I dove into a vent, slamming my head against the wall. 

"Ow! What the...?" I yelped in pain, looking up at the wall, surprised to see a black, sticky looking substance staining it. I placed my hand against my now-aching forehead, pulled it off, and gasped in horror. The same substance was dripping down my fingers. I took a tentative sniff of it, scrunching my nose up at the smell.

It was oil.

Only robots bleed oil.

Trying to disregard the horrifying implications of the substance, I managed to crawl my way through the vent and ended up in what I presumed to be outside. Soft, green grass - at least, I think it was grass - was growing under my feet, the sky was clear and crystalline blue, and as I inhaled, I caught a whiff of pure oxygen and fresh air. I marveled at my surroundings. 

"This is beautiful," I murmured. "I've never seen anything like this..." My brain flashed back to the oily substance that still stained my fingers, and I found myself questioning everything again. Was I really human? Was I a robot, but programmed to look and act like a human? I slowly walked around, trying to find any other sources of life, but to no avail. This paradise seemed to be deserted. I was alone.

The sky darkened with clouds, and I smelled the metallic tang of a thunderstorm. Something inside me seemed to panic, seemed to tell me that I had to go back into the place I just escaped from, otherwise, I'd be hurt. I wanted to ignore it, but a part of me knew it was right in a sense. Something was wrong with me. I couldn't be outside in the rain. Nevertheless, I trotted over to a small table that had a large pole with a nylon canopy on top. I tugged the pole and canopy off of the table, carrying it around with me as the rain started. The sound it made was like quiet footsteps.

Pitter, patter, pitter, patter, on and on again. I wandered around the provincial paradise, trying to figure out my next move when I suddenly felt a prickling behind my eyes. Something popped up in the corner of my vision: a red screen, displaying the words "LOW BATTERY." I realized that I felt a lot more fatigued than usual, but something still felt off. 

"Why would I have a low battery?" I mused. "I run on oxygen and food energy. I'm not a robot that runs...on...batteries..." I trailed off as the realization slammed into me like a brick wall.

Dear God.

I'm a robot.

I'm something built by humans, for humans, because of humans. I looked up at the nylon canopy that was protecting me from the rain. If I really wanted to, I could just stick my hand out and give myself some internal water damage. Maybe try and short circuit myself so that I wouldn't have to be alone anymore. Is there a place robots go when they're deactivated? Is there a place where robots go where they don't have to follow orders? I looked around, noticing that everything except what was in front of me seemed to be fading. 

"...I want to go home." My voice was small, almost like a child's voice.

Without another word, I slowly walked back to the building I had escaped from. The guards from before were standing in the lobby, presumably waiting for me. One of them, a teenager by the looks of them, stepped forward.

"We don't want to hurt you," he said. "We just want to help you get back to your job, and back to your life." I didn't bother responding, choosing to simply hold my hands out, almost like I was awaiting handcuffs. I was surprised by how gently the teen took my wrists. He led me back into the room I had woken up in and sat me down on the table that had been my bed. 

"It looks like you came in at just the right time. You were close to sparking, there." He commented.

Confused, I looked down at my feet, only to see that the wires in my ankles were poking out. They had been dangerously close to the water, and if they had hit any puddles, I'd be dead in seconds. I said nothing as the teen took off my battered feet and replaced them with new, glossy, clean ones, fixing my ankles in the process. 

"You feel better now, XZ?"

I tilted my head, receiving a small smile and a chuckle from him. 

"Sorry, I forgot you don't answer to your shortened name," he said. "Are you okay, XZ-9003?" The name seemed to resonate within me, and I nodded slightly.

"I'm okay. Thank you." I said softly. The teen smiled and pat my shoulder, gesturing for me to lay down. I complied instantly, laying back and closing my eyes. It didn't feel as scary as waking up did. It felt like I was surrounded by people who wanted to help, rather than hurt. People who cared, perhaps?