A Robotic Heart

[Kiki]

This is awesome! I am serious, it's a joy to read. Plus, Digit's the main character- I miss that guy! Keep up the great work!

 

[RedPiggy]

You know what still kills me every time I think about this story (and I've been thinking of it a lot)? How Digit becomes a robot thanks to the explosion ... but no one else looks remotely injured even though they were closer to the blast. I'm dying to know why.

 

[AnimatedC9000]

All I can reveal is that the opening dream is related to an event that happened to Digit when he was younger. Yes, an explosion was involved, but I'm not saying anything more. It'll spoil the story.

 

[RedPiggy]

I know -- but we're jumpin' up and down on one leg out here!

 

[AnimatedC9000]

I'm still typing up the second chapter, forcryinoutloud! I promise that the second chapter will be up soon, honest!

 

[Kiki]

I'm still typing up the second chapter, forcryinoutloud! I promise that the second chapter will be up soon, honest!

Oh goods... *twiddles fingers*

 

[AnimatedC9000]

Chapter 2

My earliest childhood memory involved working on a science project when I was in middle school. I was frustrated, not being able to figure out why a certain part in my experiment wouldn’t work out. I was in the midst of a break when a knock came on my door.

“May I come in, sweetie?” a woman asked, poking her head into my room. Her hair was light brown in color and she had a very radiant smile. The detail that was very prominent about her was her species: She was human.

“Sure, Mom,” I replied with a sigh.

The woman I referred to as Mom entered the room and sat down beside me on my bed. “How’s the science project coming along, Michael?”

My full name was Michael Walker Scott. That was when I was still human and was in a family.

“Not so good, Mom,” I said, motioning over to my experiment. “I can’t seem to make it work.”

Mom took a look at the project, then back at me. “Son, you have the best grades in science that I’ve ever seen. You’re telling me that you can’t get the project-- that, remember, you designed -- to work?”

“I’ve tried everything,” I told her. “I’ve looked and re-looked at the plans. Heck, I’ve even redesigned a few parts so it could work.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Mom, I’ve tried everything.”

“Everything?”

She had me there. After a few awkward moments of silence, I answered her. “... what do you think I should do?”

My mother looked at me and smiled. “Michael, I know you can think of something to make it work. You just have to keep trying until you eventually get it right.”

If anything, my mother was a great motivator. She was always encouraging me to try new things and also was very supportive in my experiments.

Looking back at my experiment, I pondered my mother’s words. What else could be done to improve it, I wondered.

Standing up from my position near the edge of the bed, I headed towards the desk that supported my project and began to look over it and the plans again. Before I began to tinker, however, my mother spoke again. “Remember that bedtime’s in an hour.”

I flashed a smile as I looked over my shoulder at her. “Okay, Mom,” I said in return. “Good night.”

“Good night sweetie.” With a smile and an air kiss, she left the room.

I ultimately stayed up late that night, tinkering and fixing my project until I thought it would work. Then I activated it and watched as the experiment worked like a charm. With the work finally completed, I almost immediately fell asleep afterwards.

~~~

It should come as no surprise to anyone that my project earned an excellent grade in my science class. In fact, it might not surprise anyone if I revealed that my grades were excellent in all of my classes. All through my school years, I was in the top students of my class and excelled in pretty much every subject.
Among my fellow students, however, I wasn’t what some might consider “popular”. You see, I was mostly known to be studying by myself or experimenting than being involved with a group of people. As a result, I hardly received an invitation to any of the major parties or had a date for prom.

Still, I did manage to have friends in the teachers. They were always encouraging me to do the best that I could in my classes, just like Mom was encouraging me at home. I even actually had after-school access to the science lab thanks to Mr. Hucklebee, my science teacher in high school.

While in school, I also took an interest in photography. I’m hardly one to brag, but I took pretty decent pictures back then, and I still do every once in a while. In fact, it was because of my skills in that area that allowed me to join the school paper staff and (eventually) the yearbook committee.

By the time I was a senior, I was named the valedictorian of my class. My grades were high, my social life was improving (a little), I was the principle photographer for the yearbook committee, and my future seemed bright. It seemed that nothing in the world was going to stop me from achieving my major goals in life.

That is, until that one fatal day in late April that changed my life forever...

 

[AnimatedC9000]

I apologize for this chapter being short and of lack-of-interest for some readers. I just wanted to paint a picture (if you will call it that) of Digit's childhood (or what he remembers of it). Don't worry, though, the next chapter should make up for this one.

 

[RedPiggy]

Digit's background sounds so familiar ... like mine, actually ... WHY OH WHY COULDN'T I HAVE BEEN TURNED INTO A ROBOT? At least that'd be COOL! Argh!

 

[Colbynfriends]

This is turning out good. When I read this story, I can hear Digit himself saying all of this.