Humanoid By: Sabrina Ruths
Intro: I could hear the ticking in my head; a steady repetitive pattern echoing in my skull over and over. Its annoying gears accompanied by my foot tapping on the hardwood floors. How long does it take? I let my honey blonde hair sweep over my face. It had been two days since my dad left for a job interview for NASA. I had no idea they took so long just to ask a person a few questions then say yes or no. I mean, knowing my dad I thought they would have accepted immediately. He is a world renowned scientist. I mean, come on! Who wouldn’t want one of the most brilliant scientists in the world? He revolutionized robotics; the first to master them. He made them capable of so much more than being a walking, talking computer. He gave them the ability to act, understand, and think like humans to better understand our problems and how to solve them. There had been a faulty experiment where one of the robots had experienced what seemed to be emotion. During one of the tests, he was asked to kill an ordinary house fly for my father, but he refused to hurt it, exclaiming it would wound the creature. My father was shocked and impressed but turned down Mark I or Humanoid as he called him. He knew something like that could and would go beyond his control.
It eludes me why he would want to keep the thing instead of disposing it like he did with the many creations that was invented in the laboratory under the house, but I guess this one was more sentimental to him. Most people would be freaked out that your dad makes living creations in a three story underground locked base, probably bewildered how you could afford something like that too. It’s not too hard when your father is a millionaire, but I didn’t care right now. What concerned me was the fact that he should not be taking this long. I starred at the ground and counted the seconds in my head. Then, I felt a rush of cold winter air hit my heated skin; I knew it could only be one person as I leaped from the chair I was sitting in by the door and embraced him in a tight hug. “I got the job!” He swung me around as he hugged me back. Smiling like a sun fish the way his face stretched out, it reminded me of a slinky. “Of course you got the job!” We jumped out and down like a bunch of screaming girls at a boy band concert. After we calmed down gave he his serious look, which meant only one thing. “Movie night?” I asked. “Move night.” He confirmed. I ran toward the kitchen. “I’ll get the popcorn!” He sighed in knowing he would have to choose a movie on T.V. Knowing how picky I was it wouldn’t be an easy task. As I took out the popcorn heated in the microwave and a large bowl out of the red wood cabinets and laid it onto the marble island in the middle of the kitchen. I had gotten the extra butter brand, a.k.a. movie theater popcorn. I skipped out of the kitchen, bowl in hand. “What this thou movie the good sir has chosen?” imitating an older accent. He stood in front of the T.V., until he saw a show that perked his interest, in a bad way. The title read “The Kimsworthy Show: Future robot malfunctions”. He scoffed knowing it was referring to him. 1