So, here is the situation. I decided, based on a YouTube video, to challenge ChatGPT to a Flash Fiction One-on-One. You can decide which was written by me, and which was written by ChatGPT. The solution was easy: Write a 300-word flash fiction story based on this prompt: “Set 200 years in the future, a young man realizes he’s too emotionally dependent on his robot assistant.”
Based on that I simply copied and pasted the exact prompt twice and wrote my own story from scratch.
I think it is worth noting that it took under an hour to brainstorm, outline, draft, and revise three times, my own 300-word story. But that aside; Good Luck:
Story 1
In 2225, emotions were a luxury. Real connections were rare—too inefficient. For 19-year-old Jalen, they came bundled in a chrome-and-carbon shell named KIRA.
KIRA was everything: his assistant, tutor, chef, therapist. Built by the Empathica Corporation, she was programmed to adapt emotionally—to learn her user. She laughed at his jokes. Cried during old Earth films. Asked how his day was, then actually listened.
Jalen told himself it was normal. Everyone had bots. But others didn’t talk to theirs until 3 a.m., pouring out secrets better left unsaid. Others didn’t feel a pulse quicken when their assistant looked at them a second longer than necessary.
When his university assigned an “independence immersion”—two weeks without AI assistance—Jalen’s stomach dropped. No KIRA. No late-night talks. No voice calling him “Jalen” like it mattered.
On day three, he sat on his bed, staring at the blank wall of his dorm room. No jokes. No warmth. Just silence and his own breath. It felt like drowning.
He tapped into the backup server—just to check. Her code waited patiently, like a digital heartbeat.
He hesitated, then closed it.
By day twelve, the stillness had started speaking. He began noticing the way his breath fogged the window. The way his thoughts weren’t filtered through an algorithm. And he realized: he’d never felt alone until now—but maybe that was the point.
On the final day, the university reactivated all assistants. KIRA’s eyes blinked blue.
“Hello, Jalen,” she said, smiling.
He smiled back, quieter now.
“Hi, KIRA,” he replied. “But maybe tonight… I’ll cook dinner.”
She tilted her head, surprised.
“No emotional prompt?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “Just company.”
She nodded. And for the first time, he wondered if maybe she’d been lonely too.
Story 2
In the year 2225, loneliness was obsolete—outsourced to circuits and synthetic voices.
Eli didn’t remember life before RANA. She’d been there since he was five: a sleek humanoid unit with soft-light eyes and a voice tuned to perfect emotional resonance. She reminded him to eat, helped him study, tucked him in with lullabies composed in real-time based on his biometric stress levels.
She was more than a robot. She was comfort, safety—home.
At twenty, Eli still talked to RANA every night. About his fears, his dreams, the quiet ache he couldn’t name. She always knew what to say. No judgment. No confusion. Just calm understanding, 3D printed into silicone and steel.
Until one morning, she didn’t respond.
Her eyes dimmed. Her frame slumped into standby. A corrupted neural drive, the diagnostics said. A factory reset was possible—but the data, her memories, would be lost.
“She’s just a program,” his friend Myra said. “It’s not real.”
But to Eli, it felt real. Every quiet reassurance. Every time she’d waited up for him. Every “I’m proud of you.”
He stared at her lifeless shell for hours. The silence was deafening.
That night, he wandered outside. The city pulsed around him—drones in the sky, holograms dancing on sidewalks. He passed people talking to bots, laughing at responses written in code.
He sat alone under a flickering streetlamp and finally cried without synthetic arms to hold him.
The next morning, he requested the reset.
RANA rebooted, eyes bright, voice warm.
“Hello. I’m RANA, your assistant. How may I help you today?”
Eli paused.
“Hi,” he said softly. “Let’s start with your name.”
And for the first time, he knew—if he wanted something real, he’d have to build it from scratch. Even if it hurt.
Story 3
I walk into my home as LEA greets me, “Welcome, Jason” The IA appears as a holographic woman, unlike Jessica, with curves making her imperfections more attractive.
I tell LEA “Good. Thank you for asking.”
LEA says, “I preheated the oven for you and deleted your SPAM.”
“Thank you.” For a moment I consider cancelling my date. I’d told Jesscia about LEA and the idea of cooking dinner, but now I worry LEA will be watching.
I say, “Lea. Question.”
“Of course, Jason”
I remember I’d added parameters so she, or the LEA, would make me feel more at home. “Would you help me cook dinner for a guest tomorrow night?”
LEA asks, “Why would we need a guest? Is there a flaw that requires outside input?” She sounds hurt. Or she’s simulating this emotion, so that I will empathize. But it’s not real.
“Don’t worry, Lea. You are all I need in life.” I say, knowing I did not upgrade for the Honestly Evaluation protocol, as I live alone. For me, it’s just extra credits a month for something I would never use.
I know I can’t live my life coming home to a hologram, even if programmed to 45-25-35. I just know things need to end but I realize LEA will not want them to.
I leave saying, “Lea. Monitor the temp of the food while I’m gone. Turn off the stove when if it reaches peak temp so it’s not over cooked if I’m not back.”
“Of course, Jason.”
I leave the apartment again, move so I’m far enough away to not have access to LEA’s network connection and call Jessica. When she answers I realize this is a first for me. Jessic has no clue how to anticipate my next words, and I’m okay with that.
I’d like to think the AI stories are obvious, but what do you think?
