Name: Alyssa McDonald
Age: 14
School: Trinity Comprehensive Ballymun, Dublin 9
Bear
The robot’s cold dead eyes stare through me. “Would you like a bag with that?” it asks me. It is more like a statement than a question. I nod my head quickly. Everyone had seen the precaution ads on the TV.
“Robots may become sentient during your ownership. Be wary and shut it off when not in use.” When the company first announced the robot line, no one read it. It was overlooked by everyone except a young lady who went by the name of Bear.
All the news sites named her that when she was found unresponsive in her house. Her robot was nowhere to be found. That line in the handbook received with the robot had been highlighted. Everyone began selling their robots. More became sentient. The humans killed were named after any living organism. They became known as the Animal Killings.
The company went bankrupt shortly after Bear’s death. Now, it was only remembered as the money grabbers. Other young companies followed in their footsteps and their short-lived success.
“Thank you for shopping with us. Come again.” I snap back to reality and I take my shopping, its beady eyes stare at me as I leave and the next person steps up. I sidestep a Guard Drone freakishly close to my head. Life really has changed.
My mother often tells of simpler times, mainly 2019. She says she lived in a generation where it was said that kids and teenagers around her age were “dependent on technology”. Since that time a variety of tree species became extinct. She can’t remember the last time she smelled a new book.
A protest is starting just across the road. A group against robots all stand side by side, each of them with placards. Bear is emblazoned on most of them. Bear had started a drift in humanity, nearly separating us completely.
My bus pulls up, almost full with people staring at electronics. A single old lady stares outside the window, lost in thought. A robot controls the bus’s mechanisms. I shiver as I buy my ticket, remembering the protester’s chants.
I’ve often thought what if I was a victim? Would I get an animal or a plant name? Would I become as famous as Bear? Would I be forgotten about like so many other innocent victims?
The bus sharply turns towards the water below us, rushing dangerously fast. We were going to fall in, and there was little to no chance of survival
The bus takes a wrong turn, towards the river that runs through the city. A small side bridge barely able to fit the bus wobbles precariously. Only the old lady and I have realised where we are. We share a worried look.
Suddenly, the bus speeds up. Other people drag their eyes up from their electronics and glance out the window. Worried murmurs arise from the group. I wobble up to the front of the bus, towards the robot. “We’ve taken a wrong turn.” I say.
“Shut up,” the robot says curtly, not taking his eyes away from the road in front of us.
That catches me off guard. A sudden fear fills my body. This robot is sentient now. The bus sharply turns towards the water below us, rushing dangerously fast. We were going to fall in, and there was little to no chance of survival.
Shrieks and prayers fill my ears as passengers around me become aware of their dire situation. We crash through the safety barriers and begin to freefall. For a moment, car horns and sobs around me stop. I reflect on my short life. It had been boring, monotone. Had it been a colour, it would have been grey.
I never finished my bucket list, filled with the same stuff you see on everyone’s: go skydiving, travel to every country in the world. I hope my little sister will get around to it. It was lying on my bed, so she’d see it.
We plummet into the water. Glass shatters and the bus quickly fills with water. My fears vanish. This is the first group Animal Killing, so I’ll be remembered, immortalised on a plaque somewhere. I let the river claim my body.
