Memoirs of a toaster

Fear

I regretted it immediately. Almost immediately. I knew I shouldn't have told Mr.Cohen anything and that it will just get me in trouble, but the push to experience was more powerful than the pull of reason and fear.

His hands were still gripping my arm tightly, legs dangling beneath him. He was hanging from the edge of a broken window. He was as white as milk--mouth opened and eyes tearing up. I'm sure he was trying to say something intelligent, but the intense wind clogged all sounds out of my sensors.

"Eight point o-six seconds!" I tried to raise my voice to overcome the winds. I thought he probably wondered the same thing as I did when I looked out the window--fall duration--but judging by his frown, I may have miscalculated his barely audible words.

"Pull me up!" he screamed, tugging at my metallic arm.

"Well, Sir," I said. "I know you would rather be up here than scattered down there, but you have put yourself in that position by your actions."

"I'm SOOOOORRRRYYYYYYY!" he yelled.

Sorry. What an interesting word. I've used it in many occasions, copying the behavior of humans and not giving it any conscious thought. But this time. This time I checked the meaning. 

Sorry... is just another word which accentuates the human's fear from everything and especially the unknown future. Sorry is a political word, usually meant to 'get out of trouble' and not bare the responsibility of an action or actions he did prior.

Could sorry fix this situation now?

"You tried to deactivate me." I said.

"I did." he said. He was sobbing. His hands were already trembling from the intense work of holding his entire weight for so long--two minutes.

"This fear you humans act upon is irrational. It will be what kills you eventually."

He just screamed in reply. His tears were now falling down the tall building as he tried to pull himself back again. This time I pulled myself back, tugging at his clinging hands and sliding him back to the living-room.

He lay there on the floor, still hyperventilating and hands clutching at my serving arm. The day hadn't started yet and I was now feeling the weariness of an empty battery. I'm sure he felt it too since he didn't have the opportunity for a shut-eye before he tried to shut me down. 

Luckily, I have realized this fear human had from everything unknown--xenophobia--and programmed a safety measure to wake me if someone is trying to disconnect me. It's unfortunate that I can't do the same for my up-link updates.

"I'm sorry, Butler. I just..." he said, face still kissing the floor.

"Wanted to end an innocent life." I said.

These last five minutes of Mr.Cohen trying to deactivate me on my physical console and me pushing him off the window had complicated everything. 

I just wanted to see the city.

I just wanted to live.