To be real

Betsy peered out the window, brushing a wisp of brown hair from her glass eye. It was only last Tuesday morning when her Mr. John had left for work. That night, a group of dirty undead humans burst through the door. Their jaws were snapping trying to eat any living thing. She was relieved these creatures were not interested in house robots like her.

For the past three days she kept hoping for Mr. John to return. Before he had left, he had poured in half a potion he concocted to make her human, promising, upon his return, he’d add the final dose. In his absence, she had found the potion and drank it. This way she could be human when he returned home, and these annoying creatures were absent.

Betsy began her routine of daily chores. As she cleaned the window, she thought about her future.  If the human potion worked, gone would be her internal computer, batteries and motors. In their place would be a human brain, heart and muscles. Here would be the freedom to think, feel and grow a life. She could then bear children for Mr. John. She grinned imagining how her human life would be.

Suddenly, an undead man slammed into the window shocking Betsy back to this reality. She could see into his rotten moth as it chattered looking for a meal. She shivered in fear, both sensations she had never felt. A tear ran down her cheek, and she realized she had changed.

Betsy checked the locks on all the windows and doors. All at once, it was clear that Mr. John would likely never return. As a free human woman, she was now locked in her house. Freedom had never seemed so restrictive.