The Urge to Feel

“Alright James, you’re just going to feel a slight pinch,” a man in a white coast said sweetly. I watched as he plunged the needle into my arm, the bright green liquid flowing into me. No pain, no pinch, noting.

“Good boy James, you did so well! Here you go, have a lollipop,” he said slowly in a way that would frighten a child.

“Doctor Moss will be in in a little while,” he exited the white room, the white door closing with a silent “Click”.

A few seconds, eight to be exact, go by, before I hear the beep of a key card opening the door once again.

“Hello James,” a handsome voice said warmly. He pushed back a stray hair from his neatly combed mane and straightened his tie.

“Good morning, sir,” I responded. His teeth shined brightly as he smiled.

“So, did you feel anything,” He always asks this. And of course, I say no. I shook my head slowly.

“I don’t understand! The lab we have is home to some of the world’s most intelligent doctors and scientists who have been working tirelessly for years now to find the perfect serum for you! And you’re telling me that it’s not working, that you’re not feeling anything?” his voice cracked, his face as red as a tomato. His eyes bulged out, darting across the room. Finally, he stopped, took a few breaths, and calmed down.

“I am sorry sir, I just cannot feel,” I searched through my codes, but that was the only programmed sincere response I carried.

“James, it’s not your fault. Maybe if I switch the masspower with the clorium in the formula, then the serum would be corrected!” he furrowed his brow, trying to figure out the equation in his head. “No, no, no. That wouldn’t work. Lt me check your chest panel.”.

I laid down on the white bed covered with white paper. I heard Dr. Moss rummage through his toolbox under the sink. He unscrewed my screws and took off the panel.

“Your radisol levels are good, and your generator vent is clean. Hmm I may need to check on the powder coating on those wires, we wouldn’t want them to corrode. Well, we can do that next week,” he said as he put my panel back in place.

“Sir, about Dr. Putt” I began.

“James, he’s just trying to make you feel more comfortable. I know that you don’t like it when he talks to you like that, but try to understand, he means no harm.”.

I didn’t understand. I am an intelligent life form, not a 4-year-old child.