[ WP ] You get a deep cut for the first time in your life , instead of bone or muscle , you see wires .

Trit was a street rat, he hung out in an alley of off 12th street, where he shared a small sheltered alcove with old man Erkle. Now, Erkle had one good leg, and a metal stump where the other one should be. In fact, he was a whole lot of weird, but nobody messed with him, so Trit had befriended him early on for safety. One day Trit got bold, and asked a question that maybe he shouldn ’ t have. 
 
 “ Erkle, people afraid of you. You got tha ’ stump, you don ’ t sleep much. Don ’ t smoke. Why come? Didya kill sumbody? ” 
 
 “ Nah kid, you don ’ t want that story. Don ’ t ask those questions. What I tell, ya won ’ t forget, and it ’ ll weigh on ya. ”, Erkle said, but Trit persisted. Erkle never got violent, never snapped at him. He asked again for a few days, till Erkle finally gave in. 
 
 “ Fine kid, fine. I ’ ll tell ya. No there ’ s no sense spreading this around, as nobody ’ d believe you, and those that would, might kill ya. When I was about your age I ran away. Daddy was a drunk and mom didn ’ care. Same story you ’ re gon na hear a lot of if ya stay down and out in these parts of town. I took a few hits from Da ’ on the way out, you see. Got cut up a bit. ”, Erkle waved his hand generally around his face. He had scars on his cheeks and the left side of his head, though Trit couldn ’ t tell which were from what, or when, they seemed so old. 
 
 “ Now, that was when I learned I ’ s a mite sturdier than I thought. Grab that there bottle Trit. ”, Erkle said. Trit picked up the glass beer bottle, not sure what Erkle had in mind. “ Now take that, and smash ‘ er and get a sharp piece an bring it here. ” 
 
 Trit brought the glass over, Erkle held out his arm. “ Now slash my wrist. Don ’ t worry none now. ”, Erkle said. But Trit was afraid. He didn ’ t do it, just stood there staring at Erkle. “ Fine boy, fine! I ’ ll do it myself. ” Erkle snatched the glass from Trit, faster than he ’ d ever seen anyone move. Before he knew it, Erkle had run the blade down his arm, sliced open a series of scars to reveal… green. And metal. Wires, tubes. Trit had seen his fair share of violence and injuries, that ’ s not how a person ’ s insides worked. 
 
 “ You… you a robot? I thought that was a myth, that them all got destroyed. ”, Trit said. 
 
 “ Aye boy, I ’ m a robot. ”, Erkle said as he looked down at his arm and flexed his hand. “ I don ’ feel nothing. Just like back then. I knew it was wrong, knew I was different. After I ran, took me a few days to realize what I was. Not sure I ever got fully used to the idea. Went back and took care of my daddy, you know? Hit him so hard that he didn ’ t get back up. ” 
 
 Trit said nothing. It was far too large a thing, the last thing he expected. That one of his only trustworthy friends was a robot. A light patter of rain began, sounding a discordant tune on the tin roofs above them. “ Now Trit, you best not tell nobody bout this. They ’ re watching you know. Looking. There ’ s a reason we ’ s destroyed. Too strong, too fast, too smart. I know they ’ re a huntin me. Even with just the one leg. Kinda lost the other when I got hit by a bus, wasn ’ t time to recover it. Not like I got money for a regular prosthetic, even if I was human. ” 
 
 Erkle sighed and scratched absently at the arm of his old wooden chair. He looked far older than he first appeared as his shoulders slumped. “ Now you know. Maybe I ’ ll tell you another story later. You should try and stay warm till this rain stops, eh kid? ” 
 
 ( ( This one did n't quite end up... on topic, I feel. But it's what I've got. ) )
