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Since Snowball's elimination. Everything went downhill for me. It wasn't the fault of his elimination. It was just something that happened that day. A moment I'll never forget, unlike the memories I lost that day. Ever since, I've always felt something missing, and there was.
"Oh, Basketball..."
My lover. The one who'd always been there for me. The only one who never judged me. Since her disappearance, I haven't been able remember her face. Most traces of her existence are gone, too. Her photos, her inventions, everything she wrote, even down to the smallest note, all disappeared with her. Every little thing to remember her by is gone. I only remember by the fuzziest of memories. I remember the way she made me feel. I felt like I was actually someone with her. Without her, I am no one.
I've asked others about her, and all of them seem to at least remember her face. Well, most of them do. TV and Remote, specifically, cannot, and I can only wonder if it's because we're mechanical minds, unlike the others, humans, who at least claim to remember her face. I wonder if it's to do with how our memories work. We wouldn't remember things exactly how humans do, right? I could only wish to have their memories, so I could remember her clearly, though, last time I wanted someone's memories, it didn't turn out well.
I remember the rain, and how it was causing me to malfunction. I know there was shouting. The shouting of my worried lover. I don't remember her words. I don't remember her voice. Just her fear. She dragged me up to her factory to dry me off. I can't imagine the pain of being shocked countless times to help some robot with so little worth. To top it off, that was the moment I opened upto her about how unloved I felt, and how I wanted to be someone else. How I wanted the memories of someone else.
"But you're you, Robot Flower," for a moment, her words play in my mind.
Oh. If it could, my metal stomach would've twisted into a thousand knots just now. I remember her words. I don't understand how. Those words loop in my head, like a corrupted video file. It feels like hearing her again. It feels like being with her again. I squeeze my wrist. These words hurt so bad, but I don't want to ever let go of them. I need them. I need her.
"But you're you," is what she told me. One of the last times I would be me for the next year, and however much longer. I downloaded someone else's memories onto me. No. It wasn't me that did that. I got her to, didn't I? I can't remember her doing it, but neither can I very well recall anything she's done. I wouldn't be all too surprised if it was her. The kind, helpful soul she was. She would've done anything for me, and I'll never truly get why. I wish she hadn't helped download those memories, though. They were only supposed to be like extra memories, so I could copy the actions of someone else. Instead, something caused them to fully replace every memory I'd ever had. Even more than I've lost now. For that time, I wasn't me anymore.
She spent over a year trying to bring me back. The others told me that. Apparently, none of them quite know how I was brought back to my real self, but they believe she was at least involved. I appreciate that from her. I appreciate it more than words could ever tell. Yet it makes me so guilty. All these thoughts make my cooling fans run wild. The thought that she tried to desperately to do all that for me. The thought that I can't do the same. I can't bring her back.
I'd do anything for her to be back. I'd die forever if it meant I could bring her back. I can't do that, though. So all I have left of her are my shredded memories. All the time we spent, and all the things she did for me, are just like an old, torn up teddy bear, that I cling onto tightly for comfort, aware that it will never look as pretty as it used to. Robots can't be ill, yet it makes me so sick. Although it hurts, so unbearably much, I could never let go. I don't want to ever let go of what I have left of her.
"I'm never gonna move on from you, Basketball..."