I had heard the term 'android' before. It wasn't new, nor was it an odd thing in the present. People talked about every single day. Some hated them, some feared them, some even loved them. No matter what their opinions androids seemed to be the talk of the crowd.

Androids were said to be amazing things, slaves to be bossed around which wouldn't fight back. They were described as plastic beings that looked so Human you could mistake one for your lover. People said they were polite yet rude. Sympathetic yet unemotional. Helpful yet idiotic. Everyone just had something to say, rather it be positive or not.

None of these words really stuck with me. It didn't matter how sympathetic, unemotional, helpful, or idiotic they were. I still couldn't piece together what androids were. Housekeepers? Helpers? Slaves? People? Nothing made sense.

Then again, I had never met an Android. Or perhaps that is the wrong word. Everyone has met an android. They walk up and down streets like they own the place, so I've heard, and steal everyone's job everywhere you turn. Apparently there is an android for every square foot of Detroit.

The problem is I never know who is android, and who is human. I bump shoulders with someone on the street and apologize as quickly as I can without even knowing who it is. It could be my father, a stranger, or an Android. My eyes have never caught a glimpse of an Android's face. They have never observed the way they walk or talk. I have never seen an android before in my entire life.

I've never seen much of anything.

At the moment I am a 29, blind female living alone in Detroit. For as long as I could remember I had been unable to see a single thing. My world was a dark abyss unbroken by even the brightest light. Colors were just words to me, shapes unimaginable. Faces were still a challenge to understand. I didn't even know what I looked like. With that in mind, of course it would be hard for me to see an android. More than that it would be hard to understand why they exist. I've never seen a messy house. I've never had to cook food. I've never had to do much else than walk to my father's house for the update.

Which is what I am doing right about now.

His house was not far from here. Only a few more moments and I would right at his doorstep, says an annoying mechanical voice from my phone. It would tell me to turn left or turn right, sometimes even warn me if there was something ahead of me in the way. Helpful, yes. Annoying, yes. However it was my only way to get around. No maid wanted to help out someone who couldn't pay them. No person wanted to room with someone who has a billion gadgets to do simple tasks with. No man wanted to date someone who would never see their face. So I was reduced to a GPS to lead me and an empty house to sit around in all day.

Yet today was different. I was sure it was going to be. My father had called me not too long ago, warning me of the best thing in my life about to bite me in the butt. As soon as he had he invited me over for lunch. What was I to assume? Of course my father had found something wonderful to show me, he always seemed to. Every week there was a new gadget. A new way to get around. A new maid that was supposed to hang around long enough to help me. Every week there was a new failure and an empty house once more. That didn't stop the hope. Hope was something I couldn't afford to lose with a life like mine.

My cane echoing against a metal beam dragged me out of my thoughts. The sound was loud and obnoxious, making me wish for an off button. Nevertheless I had heard it before. The ringing was none other than my father's gate.

I had arrived.

"Mrs. (L/N)! Please, let me help you." The voice was rather startling, as was the soft hands that gripped onto my arm gently. I felt my cane being lifted away as someone I had never heard before began to lead me in a direction I wasn't even sure of.

"U-uh... thanks? Who are you, exactly?" I manage to stutter out in my panic. The person beside me offered nothing more than a soft chuckle before warning me of a stair. With little effort I walked up the front porch of my father's house. It was not my first rodeo.

I had been told my father's house was large. Although I never really understood the concept, nods of agreement would follow comments such as those. Years of blindness teaches you to nod instead of question.

Could you imagine having to explain a large house to a blind girl you barely knew? How to explain it, what words to use? Experiences of a blind person and another who can see tend to differ greatly. No matter how much time you spend trying to explain your world to me I would be unable to grasp it.

Everyone else lives in a world of colors. When you turn a corner the first thing you see is the pretty brick house against the side of the road, a dog scampering across the empty road, or even the tree bent over the older man waiting to cross. You see reds, yellows, browns, blues, greens. When I turn a corner, I hear the bark of a dog, the ruffling of leaves, and the laughter of others at one joke or another I would never know. I 'see' the cold of Detroit against my coveted skin and the gust of wind that knocks your hat off of your head when you aren't careful.

"My apologies, I am Markus. Your father invested in me for your personal services." The odd voice spoke to me in an almost positive voice. It was smooth and locomotive, not anything like the robots I had heard on TV. Never in a million years had I envisioned an android sounding so... human.

"Android?" I question, my hand coming to a rest on the handle of the front door. Without pause it was flung open just as it was every time I visited. The familiar burst of wind from the fast movement hit my body, sending my hair behind me in gusts. I wasn't sure if the shiver was from the wind or the sudden hand pressed against my lower back.

"Yes Ma'am. I am your own personal android."