I shifted my feet from left to right, as I stared at the Reporting center, a place to report malfunctions. I told myself I would report the malfunction in my chip today, but what if they shut me down? I shook my head, malfunctions were suppose to be reported, I had to report myself. I had to. I took one step, fear coursing through me, I had to do this. It was important that I get fixed. I took another step.
“Go” I told myself, “you can do this Jamie.”
A woman at the desk looked up, I hadn’t realized I had arrived at the Reporting center.
“Here to report something?” She said, her voice silky yet strangely robotic.
I hesitated, this was my chance, I could report my malfunction. The woman stared at me her eyes unseeing. She looked like a robot, even her movements seemed robotic, I felt my panic rising.
I have to get out of here! I thought “no” I said trying to sound convincing.
“You sure?” She said in that silky robotic voice.
She knew something was up, I had to get her off my trail.
“I was simply looking at your job applications.”
She tilted her head “of course.”
She turned away from me to consult with a man who looked frantic. He was probably malfunctioning too. I turned away from the Reporting center, feeling light headed. I should have reported myself, yet I didn’t. Why? It was procedure to report malfunctions. I looked down at the wrist of my right arm, the chip buried deep within my skin was glowing faintly. It had stopped working two weeks ago.

I turned a corner, my thoughts muddling my brain. I remember when my chip first started malfunctioning. It was like I had woken up from a dream, I could finally think, I could finally show human emotion, I could finally see color. It had startled me at first, but gradually I began to feel comfortable with it.

I stopped in front of my housing unit, trying to compose myself, I had to look robotic like everyone else. That was the problem though. I couldn’t