What really happened



Forward: I do not own Big-O or any of its characters. They all belong to their respected owner and creator. I take no claim to these what so ever.



"The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple." –Oscar Wilde



I feel something inside me. I feel a memory. A barcode, children, red. Where do these come from? Why do I feel them? I wish to seek the answers to these questions, but I fear Roger will become enraged. Perhaps he is having the same emotions. I do not know, and I will not ask. I do not wish to anger him. It is almost time for my daily ritual. I decide to let him rest this morning and instead go to help Norman.

"Norman." I say coldly.

"Miss Dorothy, has master Roger awakened yet?" Norman replies.

"I did not wish to disturb his slumber in the usual pattern." I reply even colder. Norman looks surprised. I do not ask Norman my question yet. I must first put him at ease by helping him with the breakfast. I need to know what these memories are. I fear that I will never know. Then again, who am I to speak? I should not be "feeling" things, but I want to feel, so I do not tell them. I wish to, but I will not. I begin to scramble the eggs, thinking about whether I may be partially human or whether I am merely a machine, of steel. Humans are imperfect, but machines are meant to be efficicient. However, machines frequently break down as well, insufficient and imperfect.

"Miss Dorothy!" Norman exclaims. I look at the eggs. They are on fire. I am imperfect as well. What does that prove though? Does it prove I am human or does it prove I am merely machine and failing to function properly? I can not decide, it is too early. Norman puts out the flames and begins to make new eggs.

"Miss Dorothy, is there something bothering you?" Norman asks.

"Norman, Where is there access to historical records in this household?" I reply, intent upon finding my answers.

"Near the repair station in the basement." Norman replies. I ponder what I will look for in my search to find my answers, because I know Roger can not answer them, and I do not wish to bother Norman. So I hurry and I ponder. My emotions take control of me. I have to get control of myself. I pause for a moment to relax. I slowly walk. I hear footsteps coming down the hallway. I immediately know them to be none other than the footsteps of Roger. I run down the hallway to escape Roger. I do not wish to see him now. I hurry to the basement. I am becoming frantic. I trip, and my vision becomes static. Mechanical static. What is to become of me? Will anyone ever notice I have feelings too? I black out and my circuits short.