Free Mechanical by Pauline C. Harris Page A

nurse,” she told me.
    “The nurse? But, I’m fine,” I protested,
shaking my head and sitting up.
    She shook her head. “I saw how you fell. You
hit your head a few times. Hard, it looked like.”
    “But—”
    “Go,” she ordered. I immediately got up and
headed for the doors.
    I walked down the deserted hallway, my shoes
squeaking on the clean, waxed floor until I reached the nurse’s
office.
    “Hello,” the nurse said to me as I walked in.
She smiled, her cheeks dimpling. “Now, what have we got here?”
    “I’m fine, really,” I assured her, shrugging
like it was no big deal. “Ms. Webster just told me to come. I fell
on the bleachers and she wanted to make sure I was okay.”
    “Alrighty then,” the nurse said, motioning
for me to have a seat on the bench.
    I sat down and watched as she pulled out some
glasses from her purse on the desk. She walked over and immediately
picked up my arm to start examining it. I felt her fingers on my
skin, cold, but gentle, sending shivers up my arm. I looked around
the room at the human anatomy posters and health tips littering the
walls and wondered for a moment if my insides looked even remotely
similar. The creators modeled us after humans so maybe I was set up
the same way except ... mechanically.
    Suddenly I heard a gasp and felt my arm being
dropped from her grasp. I pulled my arm to my side and looked up to
see her staring in horror at my scrape.
    I frowned in confusion and shock, wondering
what could be so horrible, but just then I noticed a stinging
sensation and looked down at my arm. My eyes widened, my breath
caught in my throat and my heart went still, as though it had
ceased to beat. Through the blood smeared across my arm where I had
apparently fallen on myself, was a tangle of wires and metal.
Something I was shocked to realize I hadn’t noticed before entering
the office. Instantly I put my hand over it to cover it up.
    “What ...?” the nurse started to say. She
looked at me, her expression a mixture of shock, accusation, and
disgust. “You’re ....” she started.
    I shook my head, my mouth open to say
something, but the words refused to come. “You’re a machine,” she
whispered, standing up. “You’re not human.” She narrowed her eyes
at me, backing away.
    I shot up from where I was sitting and bolted
for the door. The nurse grabbed my arm and I tried to wriggle free
but she had a good grip, her cold fingers digging into my skin. I
didn’t want to hurt her or scare her more than she already was.
    “What are you?” she demanded, her eyes
searching me, hoping to find some answer.
    I yanked away from her grasp and ran from the
room, down the hallway and to the front doors of the school. I ran
out into the crisp morning air and sprinted down the road feeling
the wind on my bare arms and legs. My heart pounded with every
step. My eyes stung.
    Suddenly I stopped and just stood there,
staring at the pavement. Tears sprang to my eyes. I let them spill
over and slide down my cheeks. Why was I crying? Why did this upset
me? The humans were worthless, nothing, so why did I care?
    Why was I even capable of crying? It was such
a stupid, emotional response, anyway.
    Many times, I had been told what I was ...
but never with disgust and horrified astonishment. My tears started
coming harder now. She was right. I wasn’t human. And I wasn’t any
better than them, either. How could I have ever let myself
even begin to believe either of those things?
    I was a machine.
     

Chapter Sixteen

    “Hey, where were you yesterday?” Jessica
asked, running up to me in the hallway. “I saw no sign of you at
lunch.”
    “I didn’t feel good,” I told her, and it was
partially true. I had spent the rest of the day wallowing is
self-pity and disgust, replaying the image of the nurse’s
expression over and over again in my mind.
    When my absence at school had been noticed by
several teachers, Glen had been forced to pay the school a visit
and ‘get rid’