I’m Not A Robot. I’m Not A Robot! I’m Not A Robot!!! I’m Not A Robot, Am I???
Earlier today I was browsing the internet for— Well that doesn’t matter anyway. I was browsing the internet and I eventually hit a wall with the usual I’m Not A Robot captcha test. I must have done hundreds of these things throughout my early teens, but today I couldn’t pass it or even see it.
Let me explain better. I could see the checkbox with I’m not a robot in text next to it, but as soon as I check it, all I can see is code and numbers.
This is a small part of it: 01011001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01000001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01000001 00100000 01010010 01101111 01100010 01101111 01110100
There are no images to click. No instructions. No verify button. No refresh. No speech help. No nothing.
I’m starting to think I’m going mad. Am I actually a robot? Or was this some sort of major error?
When I told papa, he just told me to write about it online. Ask for help he said. Maybe somebody can explain. Thing is if I’m a robot then he would be my creator, right? If so, then why would he tell me to write about this.
Truth is, my life is anything but normal. I’m a 16-year-old girl living in living somewhere near Nebraska. My name is you can call me June. I’ve spent most of my life inside this house. Papa told me that it’s impossible for me to leave, that I have a condition that prevents me from breathing outside. I remember the outside from when I was a kid. Blue skies. Sun burning on my skin. The feel of fresh autumn rain. Then one day all of a sudden, I couldn’t leave.
Sometimes I watch the other kids playing, through the window. I could go out and play with them I always say to papa, but the answer is always the same. Lately Papa has been more open to the idea though. He even suggested I should go to school soon. Learn in an actual classroom rather than these mind-numbing zoom classes he has me in now.
Until then I have Zero to keep me company. My pet bunny. Papa has always brought strange animal’s home. He told me Zero was specially mine
Is Zero a Robot Too?
I’m suddenly realising that I’ve never fed Zero. Papa always says he does it. I’ve never seen Zero go potty, but Papa always tells me he does. Zero doesn’t do much of anything
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I’m Not A Robot. I’m flesh and blood. My skin is real. I’ve seen myself bleed when I’ve cut myself.
I am real.
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Zero is dead.
I was checking him. To see if he was a robot. It started as a gentle pat along his back. And then I started to ask myself if he was in fact a robot. Before I knew it my hand was scrunched around his neck and SNAP.
His small body wriggled and writhed as I squeezed his neck with my left hand. He quickly went cold and stiff. But don’t worry he’s not real. I clawed the skin from his bones and all that was inside were wires and electronics. A metallic frame to hold him together. Oil ran through his veins. His eyes simple L.E.D’s. He wasn’t even that complex of a machine.
I decided to study Zero’s configuration further. What was his brain made of? What does he have for a heart? He passed for a real bunny, so, he must have some sort of reality to him.
As I tore open Zero’s body, the red oil covered me. Blood Oil spreads easily. I had separated Zero into sections and spread them across my room. So, they would be easy to find and index.
That’s when Papa came in. By then I had figured out how to control Zero’s actions. A cord here, a spark there and his excited face was back to life.
Papa wasn’t happy. He locked me away in the basement, while he cleaned up my experiment. There’s internet in the basement and a computer Papa said. He told me I should write about what happened. Maybe I would find answers.
He told me I’m sick. That I need to believe the truth.
I’ve started scratching at my arm. It bleeds.
I’m Not A Robot.
I can’t be.
Zero was, but I can’t be.
Can I?
Can I?