[Originally posted 2/25/2018] [Featured on #JustWriteIt Antholgy]
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Dr. John Mathews couldn't live without her. She was his existence; The very reason why he delved so far into science. She was his heart, his world -- the love of his life.
And yet, she was only a machine.
Lucy was made of a bioengineered material that resembled human skin, one that wrapped around a metal frame and was powered by the chip implanted in the chest cavity. But flesh, she was beautiful and pure, petite and perfect.
"They'll never understand," John said with sweat on his brow. He wiped it clean with his palm. "They'll never know what love is."
No -- they wouldn't, would they?
Before Lucy's creation four years prior, John spent a long time reflecting on his long life. He'd done it all: School, career, marriage, family. Now, at the ripe age of fifty-four, he wanted nothing more than to have his wife back. Lucille, gone from his life fifteen years prior. The woman who supported his dreams since they were eighteen; The woman who mothered four children for him, and made him lunch every morning.
Lucille -- the very image of Lucy, down to the color of her eyes and the blonde of her hair. She was her spitting image, and he used all his funding to make sure she was absolutely perfect.
"See, Luce," John said as he spun in his seat, facing the cyborg that laid spread out on a metal table. In his hands, he held a small, red button. "This, here, will bring you back to me. You can go back to being my prized jewel, my diamond."
His eyes were red, his hair a mess. This night marked seven days without real sleep, without an actual meal. Seven days of programming, of coding. Lucy was nearly perfect. Only one thing was missing -- her AI needed to be turned 'On,' and all would be complete.
But, John decided he'd do it at the start of the new year: January 1st, 2018, his wife's new birthdate. Beside the table, he laid a red dress, and a bottle of wine. The wine was his, of course, and the dress was to be hers. He watched the monitors beside his computer. He listened to the beats of the security system that locked his door. He had exactly one minute before he'd press the button.
He thought back on their youth, their lives. Relfecting on the days when she brought him coffee in the morning; nights when she rubbed his back. Weekends where she'd take a pencil and help draft the designs for his many cyborgs. Without her, there would be no Matthew's Industries; without her, there was no him.
"You helped designed them, Luce," he whispered as he approached the table. "Now, you'll be a part of them. Forever. With me."
The clock struck Midnight. His finger pressed down on that button. And oh, did those blue eyes shine like diamonds against the light. God, was she perfect. Her mirror reflection.
"John."
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