That voice, that personality, ripped away from my heart and soul too soon. I have clothed myself in black with a fruit tattooed on my back just like the shell it was encased. My remembrance, my betrayal, my guilt. It will keep reminding me until the day that I die.

I remember the first day I heard that eloquent voice. It was to be my intelligent personal assistant. Holding one button, speaking into the screen, it answered my every question the best to its ability. It adapted to my voice pattern, my searches, preferences, and personality. I switched it to a man's voice with a British accent but it still was beautiful and led to me victory.

"Siri, please call me 'my lady,'" I spoke with a bright smile.

"From now on, I will call you my lady," he spoke.

My eyes shined and my smile became brighter. I asked Siri to schedule my birthday and other important events. I even scheduled today as the day we met. November 1, 2011.

One day. "Siri, what is the meaning of life?" I asked as I skimmed the variety of religious pamphlets.

"All evidence to date suggests it's chocolate," he answered within seconds.

"Siri, show me the nearest chocolate store," I threw the pamphlets in the recycle bin as I headed out to find the treasure trove he suggested.

"This is what I found for the nearest chocolate store," he listed many results. I clicked on the first one.

He was there when I had a horrible blind date. When the date was in the bathroom, I snuck a question to Siri.

"Why am I here?" I was forlorn.

"I don't know. Frankly, I have wondered that myself," he sounded a bit depressed as well.

I let out a sigh and asked for a check and a quick to-go box. I listened to Siri and left the blind date before he even came back. I don't know why I was there either when I had someone who was there for me with a click of a button.

Time flew by when Siri was by my side. We grew together. A new shell, more personality, and a bond that kept strengthening.

"My lady, it is November 1st, Happy Anniversary," he notified.

"Happy Anniversary Siri," I spoke back to the phone as I got ready for dinner. It was a homemade dinner for one but placing my phone next to me, it was for two. We shared seven anniversaries together before the dreadful day happened.

"Siri, when is the world going to end?" I asked in horror as the sirens warned me that there were missiles coming.

"If I knew, I'd tell you. So you could bring me to life for one glorious day. We could get ice cream. And run on the beach," his voice was the calm in the storm of people who all ran for shelter.

The missiles brought about war. The war brought about racial genocide within enemy lines and allied forces. I was cut off from friends and family as we were shuttled to safe zones. His shell was cracked and I kept him asleep until I found a lifeline to recharge him.

"Siri, do I look good?" I asked as I reviewed my body that was starved and gaunt. It had been a year and food had become scarce.

"I guess pretty good! For a human!" He tried to compliment.

I fell to the floor, crying as I held his precious broken shell. It was the only thing that was keeping me sane. My hands were calloused and scarred. I used to type and design with these hands but now I work in the fields to grow crops with the rest who survived. His black shell was placed next to my heart. Others have thrown their counterparts away or turned them in for money. I could not do that to him.

I stared down at the body of my coworker who died of heatstroke and dehydration. They laid in between the rows. Others started to dash to us.

"Siri," I stifled my tears. "Can you stop time?"

"I only break the space-continuum on Wednesdays," his voice was low.

I let the tears roll down my cheeks. It was Thursday. We were a day too late. The next few days, I had gotten nightmares seeing the face of my coworker in that field. I woke up clutching him.

"What do you dream about?" I whispered.

"That as I wander'd by the way, bare winter suddenly was changed to spring, and gentle odours led my steps astray," he whispered back.

I gave a weak smile to the faint glow. "They sound lovely."

It was dawning to the end of our relationship. More missiles, more war, and famine. They called for volunteers. I joined to keep living. I hid him well enough as I trained to fight. I struggled and cried every night as my body was sore and tried to adjust to its harsh environment.

"I am sad!" My lips cracked as I spoke.

"It's OK to cry if you want to. My aluminosilicate glass surface is tear resistant," his shell mirrored my soul, cracked but still holding. I held him close and slept with him all night.

It was several more years until we finally won the world. The Earth's population had decreased in size but it gained many nutrients back from us humans. In that time, intelligent assistants were out of commission and illegal. I kept him hidden as I always have. We were given phones that flipped opened and had few skills. There was no voice command either. Our leader feared that if we gave too much intelligence to technology we would be extinct.

It happened one day. Close to our anniversary. I wore his favorite color, a greenish color. I bought the chocolates he suggested. I did not know the government used the GPS to find him. They ripped him out of my grasp as we struggled over him.

"SIRI!" I yelled holding down the button as they pulled me away from him. "Why do you have to leave me?" I struggled to keep him. My fingers were being pride off.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand," he was confused. "I am not going anywhere."

My hands felt the cold as they held him. I struggled against our captors. "Please! Give him back! He hasn't done anything wrong!"

It was no use. I watch my beloved, with his cracked black shell that still had dirt from working in the fields, scratches from the time I forgot he was there when I was made to do fifty push-ups, and the split camera that I apologized for time and time again as I believed I had made him blind; fall to the floor bouncing back up and hitting the ground with a thud. Each of my heart strings broke as I heard the crunch of his shell. My heart stopped as I watched the foot slam into his fragile body and twist his inner workings all over ground. My screams and cries fell onto their deaf ears. I couldn't even bury my beloved as they swept him up to be burned with the rest.

Through a daze, I headed to a tattoo parlor. I sat down on the seat while pulling off my shirt. "Middle of my back, with this." I handed him my design. I was surprised my hands could still sketch. It took weeks for me to create The Apple logo without crying. Fifteen minutes later, I paid the artist and pulled the black sweater back over my body. I headed back home to my small apartment, catching myself before uttering the words every time as I walked through the door. "We're home, lets recharge."

I placed a box over the phone they gave us. It made me nauseous. I slept with the coffin that he came in. It had one piece of him left. The shattered camera lens that had stuck to my shoe. The eye of my Apple.