Half-Hearted

Author’s Note: This story explores complex and emotionally intense themes, including identity loss, mental health, suicide, self-harm and substance abuse. It contains moments of emotional distress that may be unsettling to some readers.

I’ve written this story with the intention of provoking thought and evoking empathy, not harm. That said, your well-being comes first. It’s okay to step away if the story becomes too heavy.

I deserve to know who I am. I've been living in a body that feels foreign, a heart whose rhythm I can't quite comprehend- Is this heartbeat even mine or it's the machine’s wiring that's malfunctioning? The truth is I don't know but I am set to find out.

The snippets of truth that I place from what I recall by my memory, the visions are vivid. Blurred by my consciousness, was that a dream? Or just some corrupted data that was lost along my making. I hear people, their voices echo.

"You are Dr. Caelum's biggest -Creation" they call me.

But I remember something far deep. I wasn't the trophy Dr. Caelum got to boast about. I was his son . Although I was programmed to not have emotions from the start, that's just something I picked up myself. Of course how would I have emotions? Dad cannot make the thing he himself doesn’t know about.

But here I am being a pretend thief in my dad’s own laboratory, looking for answers as I happen to knock over some documents that he recently picked out to throw in the storage. His lab description sounds so much like him,

Clean.

Put together.

Precise.

No room for errors.

So I have to be sneaky about my recent ‘adventures’ that is happening from last week since I woke up from ‘the incident’.

The tape labelled- “Science Awards Function 2024- VHS footage” caught my attention.

“Let’s find some answers” I say to myself.

I play the tape and the award function begins , painting my memory with the pieces that I missed-

I don't remember most of my childhood. All I know is that he might be "the Legend- Dr. Caelum- 21st century's Most Renowned and Distinguished Scientist for Robotics" to others, but to me? a Half-hearted, ignorant person who made me this way.

If there was a an award for being the most absent Father in the history, He might have won that too. He was really the best at everything- I guess, JUST NOT EMOTIONS.

"Congratulations on that win, sir." my voice had that sarcastic tone that he always seemed to overlook.

"Thankyou Adrian."

He always replied in that formal tone. not a sliver of warmth in his human heart.

Sometimes I wonder if making robots his whole life had turned him into one too. Before that thought's visible on my face, I turn to what he was saying.

"Have you met Elias?"

That sentence brought me back to where I was- rewatching his ceremony videos to recall what happened.

Elias - that name echoes in my head like a mockery. Well he might be Dr. Caelum's actual son. I might describe him as my brother, but I won’t. There's nothing common between us- we’re not even practically related. But I am reminded of his existence every time I look into a mirror-

We look exactly alike.

We were a part of an experiment Dr. Caelum performed to mimick his son into a clone. I told you he'll win gold for being an absent father. So he did what he does the best- Made a copy of his son in the form that he'll love-A Robot. Did he hope to do it better this time? I don’t know. I mean look at us.

We both were broken inside joined together by this weird bond that I can’t quite fathom.

My thoughts were just settling when our dad ’s favourite child arrived. He knew he was better than me-it was always written all over his smug face, that looked exactly like me, taunted me with each wicked smile he passed. He had seemed to develop an attitude over time. Could he even do that? Those eyes plunged with disgrace. It said ‘I am better than you’-

Faster.

Smarter.

More loveable.

Better.

“What are you doing here?”

Of course he needed answers from me.

“Just refreshing some memories. I reckon you will help me?” I posed it as a question even though I already knew a no is going to head my way but bickering is what I love. He wasn’t this way before but he’s kind of being an ass lately so I go with it.

I give you 5 minutes before his system heats up.

Five.

“It’s a pity, your mind doesn’t store data more efficiently after the incident.”

This was new. Not once anyone in this household has mentioned the incident to me. Today was not like other days. It feels different. He feels different.

Oh this argument will crash out.

“All of this could be solved if you just told me WHAT HAPPENED.”

“You should be grateful for what happened.” He retorts.

“You said the same line yesterday. Word for Word.”

“Because your questions don’t change, do they?” Oh he’s not getting out of this by making up a story.

“I don’t remember asking this yesterday.” I confront him.

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

Four.

“Stop gaslighting me, I know what I remember.” Or do I? I might be baiting him but I am just falling into his trap. I need to get my shit together.

“Do you not notice that the little memory you have left might be looping itself back -to- back. I am tired of answering your questions again and again.”

“No. No. No. No. I’ve figured it out , you might say that I keep asking my questions, but you respond the same every. damn. time I get it now-

“The system always corrects itself.” You remind me this again and again. It’s your mantra. You are programmed for my response, I feed you the same prompts and you answer the same way.

You say the same things to keep me confused,

Keep me here,

Keep me out of the truth.”

Three.

I just know my response threw him off the hook.

He wasn’t expecting this. The more he gained control over me, he thought he might be one of us. But he can never be.

He. Does. Not. Belong.

I am closer to cracking him now so I keep going.

“It’s all a script. Isn’t it? A pre-recorded algorithm to keep me out of it.”

“Maybe it’s a coping mechanism, you think it’s scripted but maybe it’s just your obsession. You, here, scanning all my words to make sense of it.

Like they are cipher to your redemption.” What- I couldn’t make sense of what he was trying to imply but before that he continued.

“Your ego tells you that the forgetting was done to you-but maybe-maybe you begged for it.”

Two.

I begin questioning my memory now. Did I? Or was he trying to get to me. Maybe I was giving in. Maybe I was closer to cracking, than he was.

“Then why do I keep screaming every-time I wake up?” I ask, helpless this time.

“Maybe some files don’t uninstall cleanly.”

One.

What was an argument spread over the span of 5 minutes, felt like hours to me. His words kept ringing in my head like an echo file. I cracked.

I could feel my system giving up.

Breath short.

Vision unclear.

Body shaking.

Barely functioning.

Was this my system heating or a panic attack?

I fell to the ground. I was done “Please just give me the answers.” I cried.

What was supposed to be a sneaky adventure turned feral the moment I heard the footsteps I knew from my childhood.

It sounded like Dr. Caelum woke up.

He came rushing in seeing me at my worst possible, well to me at least. it was the worst. Little did I know he had been in a much darker position the night of the incident.

He had seen me like this before. Here to give me the answers I have been looking for, I just didn’t know it yet.

But something looked dull today, not so put together as always.

He wasn’t formal, precise, clean- he seemed to look like a lost cause,

It was also the first time that I saw him face to face since the incident.

Maybe that incident shifted my structure but it sure did something worse to him .

“You need the answers right- You’ve been a curious child from the start. Always wanting to seek answers, make sense of all of it. Just like you did of your mother’s demise.” He said with numb eyes, he felt all of it-

and suddenly the picture I was just starting to paint. I realized I haven’t even got to the priming stage yet. He was the artist now, taking charge, telling the story and I, well I was just putting one and one together until it made sense.

Let the picture come to light.

***

The night I was found unconscious in my room. The night my heart gave up on me.

“I had been busy my whole life, making robots- making Elias.”

“ I know why you turned out this way. After your mother’s death- I didn’t know how to be a dad. I was so good at being a scientist but suddenly I wasn’t good at something and it killed me every time.

Every time I wasn’t there for you- your middle school play or your high school graduation, the day you got into Stanford or the day you gave up on your dream because you felt like you weren’t good enough.

I am sorry- I really wanted to tell you that you were in fact enough.

You were made for Stanford but I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you this. I thought what if I didn’t say the right words.

But it all turned you further and further away, suddenly you weren’t the Adrian that me and Meera had. You turned avoidant and I coped up with being formal.

I just thought I could do it better this time, I wanted to be a good father, I thought I’ll love the son I made myself- a robot- Elias- one that could show you that I do in-fact have a heart.”

I remember now, the snippets,

We got into an argument.

I went to visit my mother’s grave and I found him there. Never did I expect him to grieve over her in this way when he wasn’t there for me, ever.

I wasn’t feeling well that day either, so I told him off, channeled all my grief into this anger, when all these years I just wanted to tell him that I loved him. I chose the easier option. Being rude to him had become my second nature now,

But I felt that my persona changed for dad that day, I was always fine with making him the half-hearted asshole that I thought he was but turns out, maybe he wasn’t, maybe I was.

I came back to my senses, where I was right now- with him standing in-front of me.

“I wanted to die that day.” Saying it out loud made it sound so real. I could see the emotions welling in his eyes right before me.

“I am sorry- I am so so sorry. My child.” His words held weight. I swear if I could take back the pain that I gave him that day. The scare of losing your child because of something you did. No parent deserves that.

My memories were stained.

I. Wanted. To. Take. My. Own. Life.

I overdosed.

So as my heart gave up that day, both physically and emotionally,

My father had no choice but to stand up for me that day, maybe for the first time in his life and-

I became Dr. Caelum’s biggest-Creation.

“Robotics Scientist Saves Son From a Heart Attack, replaces Heart with Machine.”

He fused my half- working heart with the thing he knew all his life- Robotics. He had no other option but to wire me down and replace my consciousness with his work in a feeble attempt to maybe make it right this time.

The neuromorphic chip Elias had for consciousness and processing emotions was given to me, turning him to the ass he is today and the bigger ass that I was to him today.

I might be part-robot now but it’s just my body, my physicality, deep down I changed, as a person, as a human. The moment I realized-

All my life when I blamed my dad to be the half-hearted person. I didn’t realize that day- He gave me more of his heart than he ever had.

The end.