The  flat rectangular object sat on the soiled table, its nefarious glow pulsed appearing to breathe the air in the stale room.  I clutched the tattered terry cloth robe around my flabby waist, my bare feet edging across the dull hardwood floor inching me closer to the figure. The hasty scribbled script peeked out from a piece of folded crisp white paper, drawing my attention like a  sail in an ocean of chaos. A single pearl of sweat rolled down my back. I watched the dust mites dance haphazardly through the air as I surmised how I could get the note without actually coming within a few feet of the unfamiliar object, when suddenly the very same object appeared to shudder and changed from ice blue to a warm golden hue. The movement made me jump back into the pile of old winter coats and out of date handbags, which promptly fell over landing with a thud on the milkcan. My attention shifted, drawn by the self imposed calamity of my jerky movements, to the objects in the milkcan. The contents precariously rested against a box of aged copy paper. A collection of old bamboo stalks, canes and a metal  grabber threatening to slip out. I lifted the grabber with hesitance and watched as my pseudo hand clasped the paper.

                              It does not hurt to ask, speak.

                              Don’t be afraid of Siri .                                          

I read while placing a clammy hand on an uneven pile of dusty notebooks. I sought a refuge of strength in the tangible column, a vain attempt to calm my frayed nerves.  I took a deep cleansing breath, in search of my illusive inner solace. My eyes were drawn to a  journal that sat askew in the pile of texts beside me.

                                Jenna’s Diary  KEEP OUT!  

My shoulders straightened as I stepped forward defiantly reaching out to the radiating form on the table. Jenna!  -my youngest daughter. Images of a small mole like creature digging through my psyche tearing apart what was dark, enclosed and carefully packed down deep , hidden and untouched.

It was undeniably her handwriting on the sterile page. She was the one who placed the smooth rectangular object on the kitchen table. Knowing Jenna would never harm me, I found the fortitude to lift it off the table, using a stained oven mitt that had been laying on the floor. The device seemed benign enough. It had a smooth flat glass surface and appeared to be made of a polished silky pale silver type of metal . The color emitted through the smudgeless glass now shifting to a green hue. I transferred it to my bare palm, where it cast a green glow on my pale skin, like the wicked witch from Oz. My throat tightened as I considered the note, and my daughter- whose favorite movie was the Wizard of Oz.

“Speak what?”  I croaked, my voice dry from lack of use and fear. This is ridiculous I mused, speaking to an inanimate object. “ Hi Siri?”  

“How can I help?. “ Replied a sing-song voice.

Thrown off guard by the response, I felt epinephrine race through me like a philly running the Derby. I began searching the cluttered room for intruders, as the object vibrated gently and changed hue once more. A pale rose pulsed as the accented voice reassured, “I am here for you.” 

“Um.. where exactly, um are you? Siri?” I asked tentatively as I worked my way through the maze of boxes, bags and other items stacked along the corridors and rooms, in search of some miniature person hiding amongst the pandemonium I call home.

The cheery voice responded. “I am an avatar placed in the device you hold. I am here to help you.” 

I stood dumbfounded in the narrow entry peering through the small grimy window of the front door. “But I ...I don’t  know about all of this…” I stammered checking the locks were secure.

“I can check your calendar, maybe that will help. I see there are a number of tasks for today”

Responded the avatar.

The device continued changing color and vibrating gently I felt its warmth as I clasped my hand tighter around . What type of tasks do I have? I considered feeling delicate protrusions on the sides of the object . Upon closer inspection I could see the buttons and gingerly pressed a  single one on the right side. The rectangle lit up and the voice came to life, again.  

“How can I help?” 

Speaking directly at the form, very slowly and intentionally “Do- you- know- Jenna-?” lifting the "A" in Jenna a pitch higher in question.

“Jenna  Mitchell- daughter , shall I call her for you or would you  like to facetime Jenna?” 

I gasped and looked again closely for any other buttons or dials. "What is face time? " I mused aloud.

“Facetiming Jenna Mitchell, daughter” the voice replied as the device came to life ringing and vibrating. 

I turned it over and saw a picture of my daughter in the glass. I nearly dropped the- phone? Startled by the image of Jenna.

“Hi Mum. I see you got my note and found the phone” she smiled.

Turning the device several times to look for a receiver I spoke looking at my child

“This is a phone?!” I exclaimed “But, how does it…”

“Mum listen I am flying into town tomorrow morning,” -she cut me off “I will explain it all…”

The picture froze, an unseemly image of Jenna mouth agape honey colored eyes rolled upward.

“Jenna! Jenna! Are you alright!” I yelled in a panic. Fearing she was having a seizure or worse, in the process of being abducted, I shook  the device.

The image of my child jumped to life again her image spasmodic “...busy day. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love…” and then all went black.

“Hello, Jenna are you there?” I was turning the phone around and around in vain trying to find a  dial. I pushed the buttons again all of them at once the happy avatar responded in various  volumes as I inadvertently pressed the sound up and down.

“Can I help you? What would you like to ask me” Siri responded.

“What the hell do I do now?” I all but shouted at the phone. “Jenna where are…”

“You have an appointment in fifteen minutes  Happy House Cleaners " replied Siri, cutting me off.

“Happy house who? What is that?” I stared at the phone’s glass face as it’s colors swirled and changed.

 Siri responded ” Happy House Cleaners located at one five two All Bright Way..” squeezing the side buttons between my thumb and fingers in annoyance Siri stopped mid sentence. Silence.

I had worked myself into a sweat and began to feel shaky. I leaned against the hoarded piles of my life as I staggered through the cluttered hallway into the acrid scent of the kitchen. Removing several bags of  possibly perishable food items, I sat  on the hard wooden chair and mopped my temple with a corner of the soiled  robe. Contemplating a drink I pulled a hand through my tangled hair and glanced across the disheveled room. The weary room stared back disordered and mocking ; a mirror to my life. Empty bottles strewn across the counters, half eaten moldy sandwiches lay stiff beside them, a testimony of a lonely life. Pill bottles some full and others mostly empty or spilled out laying on the floor, crushed like chalk between the floorboards, a witness to the illness that I had succumbed to. 

I rested my forehead against the  cool metal of the phone in my thin hand and  wept. ”Why” I whispered.

“What do I do now?”  

Siri’s cheerful voice rang out “call from Dr Anne Marlow” The phone vibrated and rang. Oh! I jumped. The device began gyrating against my brow. I stared at it, unknowingly as a name marched across the glass front.  I realized with trepidation who it was. No I can’t, I can’t do this right now. 

“Hello. Hello Judith?”

A tear lingered on my jawline like my soul hanging from a precipice dropping silently to the ground taking with it all of my security.

“Hi Dr Anne” I replied thinly.

“Judith? Judith are you alright?” The feminine voice called to me full of concern. I knew better, her concern was not to be trusted, like crocodile tears. “Jenna contacted me” she continued. “We have not talked in several months- Judith?” 

“Yes, I know. I, well, I... “ I whispered at the phone, trying to hide from the naked truth; the person Jenna and Dr Anne knew I was.

“Judith I can’t hear you; are you okay?” I heard the escalation of concern rise in her voice, and  I knew as I looked at the faint  lines on my thin wrists the reasons for her concern.

“Yes I am here”.  I raised my voice trying to figure out where to speak on this foreign apparatus.

“Judith , please answer me. I shall have to call for help if you can not answer me.” 

“I am here.” I shouted at the phone.

“Okay Judith, if you will not answer I will have to assume this is an emergency. I am calling 999” the line went dead .

In my despair I dropped the phone, my legs  gave out and I sunk to my knees, mind racing in panic.  

“What to do, what to do?” I questioned rhetorically, aloud.

“I am here” Siri responded, her voice muffled as it  vibrated across the hard floor. I stared at the phone and asked with false confidence. "Call Dr Anne Marlow-please."  

“Calling Dr Anne Marlow” it replied as the phone rang.

“Hello. If this is a psychiatric emergency please hang up dial 999. Dr Marlow’s office is now closed for lunch, we will reopen at 1pm. “ replied the automated voice.

I lay on the floor, staring into the world of dust bunnies and dust mites, a pool of drool and tears formed on the oak wood floor, drowning a small white pill that had been dropped from it’s child safe container. I could hear the sirens in the distance coming closer, coming for me. Too numb to feel ; I ask the vacant life I live aloud, "why?”

Siri responds from the phone which lay next to me “I am here to help.”