Tadala

A short Story about the unfortunate fate of a girl who never realized who she really was.

Tadala Hathoway

By James

Hello, my name is Tadala Hathoway I am 5 years old. This is not written by me nor my parents, in fact, I don’t have parents I never have had parents and I never will. This is being recorded and hopefully, someday someone will discover this and write it down for me because this is my story.

February 29th, 2027

I stay at someone’s home all day doing chores, I will never accept them as my family I am not even supposed to think. I am just expected to listen to every command that they say and everything they tell me to do. I don’t know what they think of me as but I am not given permission to talk I must stay sealed in my miserable mind and I can never escape.

I want to escape this place but I can’t I can only do what I am told to because that is what I was made for. Today I had to do what I did yesterday. Wake up everyone, prepare breakfast, Take out garbage, do the dishes. Clean the floors, shovel all the snow, clean the windows, dust everything, that is the morning portion of my schedule. When I was first made, I got the schedule implanted in my brain so I could never forget.

March 2nd, 2027

Today Things got weird my master would not wake up and the man that lives here called someone to come pick her up. Now I am here alone. I did not get assigned anything today so I sit here gazing out the window imagining what it would be like to have a family. What it would be like to have somebody to talk to. Now that I consider it I've never even talked before, I attempt to say hello but nothing comes out. I try once more and this time there is the slightest whisper. I try several more times until a I hear a solid “Hello?” I am stunned for an instant at how different I sound. I almost sound fake.

March 9th, 2027

My master is still gone, and I have been doing nothing but talking to myself the past few days. Maybe I am going insane, but I don’t imagine I would be allowed to do that. I have gone outside but people that pass by look at me like I am some sort of broken machine that just came out of the trash. Everyone I see is wearing a thick jacket yet I stand here with no jacket on and I feel no cold. Everyone looks to be about 30 but I am the same height as them, I feel like I don’t belong here.

March 18th, 2027

I guess this is the end for me. Today I ran away and now I am here laying on the ground recording this I remember someone shooting me they screamed at me also. These are my last words so listen closely. “My name is Tadala Hathoway I have no parents, I never will, I am five years old and I will never live to be older than that, I am a robot,”

By Tadala Hathoway