Four Painful Years

Four Painful Years

It’s the dreams that mimic reality that really tick you off. You can never tell if you’re already awake or not, if what you’re seeing is real... Then you open your eyes and suddenly you’re back in bed, and you’ve got to do your entire morning routine over again. Typical friggin’ Monday.

It took a second for you to become lucid after the initial jolt forced you upright. Santos dropped the forks on you again. You’re just about sick of that herbal remedy place constantly blaming you for taking their homeopathic a-blockers incorrectly, as if there’s somehow another way to receive medication orally. “Dream defender” your ass. You’re marching over there and getting a refund before they close this evening, or your name isn’t… isn’t...

Damn… it’s finally happening. You thought you had more time but, nope. This is it. You’ve forgotten your name.

Your name is… Your name is...

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Achievement Unlocked: "Day One" - Start the adventure. (50In)

Key words will henceforth be highlighted in Bold. This should help keep track of important information.

MSPFA MIRROR

Julie Johansen

(Dude, I know that’s only one post you’ve done on this so far but I really love your writing style! You could be an author!)

Your name is Craig Mitchells. You really hate it, it got you bullied so many times in school. You’re considering changing it, but just can’t be bothered.

Samantha W. Boingo

Julie Johansen

Your name is Craig Mitchells. You really hate it, it got you bullied so many times in school. You’re considering changing it, but just can’t be bothered.

Samantha W. Boingo

Yowza… That was close.

Your name is Julie B. Mitchells and you have an inoperable mass at the center of your brain.

The doctors have no idea where this mass came from, how it developed, or how to treat it. All they’ve ever been able to tell you is that removing it would kill you, that it is growing, and that as it grows your already exceptional pain grows with it. On the bright side, the pain will end about four years from now, because at that point your brain will suffer a catastrophic hemorrhage and you will die.

Until then, you might as well make yourself useful. You are currently sat up in your cramped studio apartment. Your pillow is soaked with flop sweat and you may have knocked something off your nightstand. What will you do?

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Achievement Unlocked: "What’s The ‘B’ Stand For?" - Be born with a terrible middle name. (50In)

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(Dude, I know that’s only one post you’ve done on this so far but I really love your writing style! You could be an author!)

That is incredibly high praise, thank you so much ;-;

>Look for knocked over something.

What about a snack?

(Dude, I know that’s only one post you’ve done on this so far but I really love your writing style! You could be an author!)

That is incredibly high praise, thank you so much ;-;
[/quote]

You’re welcome! :D

>Look for knocked over something.

Yeah. Probably better to do so before whatever it is ends up growing mold in a mug underneath your bedframe. It isn't on the floor in front of the nightstand, so it must've fallen into the gap next to the bed.

You heave a sigh and lie down, only to jerk back up in revulsion as your neck makes renewed contact with the cold, clammy surface of your wet pillowcase. Incensed, you huck it across the room at your "10 Foot Toes" poster before angrily rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Let's try that again.

You lie prone on the mattress and jam your arm into the space between your nightstand and bed. Before long your hand comes into contact with something and you grab it. Of course. The fallen object was one of those limited edition bobbleheads from that one game you really like. You know, the one with the old music and giant scorpions? That one. You put it back where it belongs.

What about a snack?

And there's the hunger, right on cue. You stretch and eventually work up the motivation to leave the warmth of your comforter. As you waddle to the fridge you scratch liberally. One of the greatest perks of living alone.

On the way you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Ugh. You need a haircut so bad. And less baggy clothes. Maybe something for the skin around your eyes. While you're at it, a bigger chest and some lipo wouldn't hurt either, but now you're just being mean to yourself. In a fit of playfulness you puff out your cheeks and make a motion with your arms as if your gut is a balloon being inflated. You smirk, then return to what you were doing.

You open the fridge. Smells better now that you remembered to crack open that box of baking soda. The fridge contains:

• A 1L carton of 2% milk
  
• A 4L jug of chocolate milk, half empty
  
• Carton of eggs, 4 left
  
• Some bacon
  
• Loaf of white bread (Yes, you keep your bread in the fridge and it is staying that way)
  
• Smooth peanut butter
  
• Blackberry jam
  
• Mustard, running low
  
• A two week old double down you took one bite of and gave up on immediately
  
• Leftover birthday cake from Maxwell's party
  
• Margarine
  
• A head of cabbage, almost past expiration
  

Your freezer also probably has some ice cream and waffles in it, but you're too lazy to check and the humming of the fridge's lightbulb is soothing your headache.

>A peanut-butter and blackberry sandwich sounds good. It should hopefully be enough to satisfy you for now. Plus it's your favorite.

>A peanut-butter and blackberry sandwich sounds good. It should hopefully be enough to satisfy you for now. Plus it's your favorite.

Aw yeaaaah, BB n' peebs, just like Dad used to make. Growing up, you were never upset when food started to dwindle. Peanut butter, bread and jam were never in short supply, so the last few days before groceries Dad would just make you all the sandwiches you could eat. Might explain your terrible eating habits. Sometimes, you wonder if you might be able to eat yourself comatose before the thing in your head can get you... Y'know, make a game out of it. If you're going to go, you might as well go out with a full stomach and no regrets, right? Why let nature have all the fun?

... You let the butter knife hover in the air for a while.

Like, you don't really want to go, but... what choice do you have? You were never living on your own terms to begin with. You were born with cells specifically programmed to turn traitorous, or, at least that's how the doctors described it to you. You were literally born to die.

You blink away some of the moisture in your eyes. It could be a whole lot worse. Mom and Dad aren't around to watch their daughter...

...

... ANYwho, just a bit of morning melancholy. Back to the sammiches.

You finish putting together a couple of PB&Js and take a tremendous chunk out of the smaller. You always make two at a time; one to eat on the way to your chair, and another for when you get there. You hum appreciatively as the peanut butter oozes between your teeth. Before you forget, you also pour yourself some chocolate milk.

The breakfast of champions.

>Look around studio apartment. Gotta distract yourself some more.

>Pop on the radio or telly, and listen to the news.

>Look around studio apartment. Gotta distract yourself some more.

You may be able to make a distraction out of cleaning your apartment, but honestly, you could barely muster the motivation to get out of bed a moment ago. You'll stick with enjoying your sandwiches for now. You'll also eyeball the model mat in the center of the room in an attempt to remember what page of the instruction manual you were on.

>Pop on the radio or telly, and listen to the news.

You don't normally listen to the news. Current events don't interest you, and any major scientific breakthroughs or political reforms that may be in the works won't be around long enough for you to be affected by them. You suppose that could be a good thing? World's going to crap either way.

Still, it might be nice to be a human being for once and glimpse out into the world, even if it's through a screen. Might give you something to talk about at work. You open the radio app on your phone and wait through an obnoxious advertisement for a restaurant chain.

Actually, that reminds you. You're supposed to collect your bonus check from the warehouse today. A couple-hundred extra dollars is nothing to sneeze at. Maybe you'll say hi to the guys while you're there, provided they're not too busy. On the way you could also pick up your prescription. Pain's not gonna stop itself...

You listen to the radio for a bit while you finish your sandwiches. Some car accidents, a break-in closer to the city, a human interest story about cute animals. Same ol' same ol'. Though, that story regarding the recent string of suburban disappearances did manage to catch your attention and make you shiver. You don't know, there's just something about being swept away that both frightens and intrigues you. Something you'd both hate to run afoul of... but you'd kind of like to experience just once? Just for a change of pace.

Wow, what the hell are you talking about? You finish your last sandwich.

>Do something about those boxes.

>Do something about those boxes.

If cleanliness truly is close to godliness, then the boxes in your closet are beyond redemption. They're musty, dusty, and heavy with useless junk and silverfish. You hate silverfish so god damn much. You see one and you just lose it. The insecticide traps you put in there should be doing the trick, but you're never in the mood to check. If you went in there, turned on the light and you found one of those little monsters in your winter clothes, you'd literally burn the building to the ground, no joke. Yes, you hate them that much.

The boxes in your living room on the other hand need to be where they are. You keep all of your plastic model robots inside them, as well as the accessories and tools required to build and customize them. And you do that a lot, so putting them away is out of the question.

Ah, crap. You got jammy crumbs all over your shirt. Klutz.

>grab the mech that looks like a... wait, this isn't a mech, it looks like a cactus made out of crystals. How did this get here???

>Build a snake robot and do a Frankenstein and make it alive!

>Go to the bathroom.

>remove those jammy crumbs from the shirt.

>grab the mech that looks like a... wait, this isn't a mech, it looks like a cactus made out of crystals. How did this get here???

You know exactly how that got there. You bought it and took it home because it’s amazing.

EcoSpace Ranger XDrive is a staple of model kit geekdom. Though you’ve never seen the cartoon - in your head you can hear Parmar’s shrill, whiny voice berating your choice of terminology - you’ve gathered enough about the lore to make sense of it. Some spandex wearing vigilantes travel the galaxy looking for these weird crystals, and then the crystals turn into giant robots. Not the most intriguing plot to come out of the genre, but you’ll be damned if it doesn’t produce some awesome blueprints.

This one in particular is DaiEmerald Lyndwurm. It’s notable for its thorny, translucent green armor, articulate joints, and an honest-to-god grappling hook you can fire from the left arm. One of your favorites, though they haven’t been produced since the late 90s.

>Build a snake robot and do a Frankenstein and make it alive!

In a fit of inspiration you dismantle the bottom of half of one of your more common Zabu IIs and install the tail of an ABS Warkiller Tanksnake beneath the waist. You also take the unfinished Tanksnake’s shoulder cannons and affix them to the Zabu’s torso. It looks so cool now.

By squeezing the base of the tail, you cause your freakish abomination’s mechanisms to turn. It lunges forward and knocks over a bunch of little soldier figures you had standing around. WHAT HAS SCIENCE DOOOOONE!?

>Go to the bathroom.

You put your toy robots down and decide to clean up like an actual adult. That was admittedly more fun than you imagined it would be. The sorrows of reality come rushing back, however, when this greets you in the bathroom mirror.

Yuck… Girl, you could do with an upgrade yourself. And maybe an oil change.

>remove those jammy crumbs from the shirt.

But that requires effort! The laundry room is two floors down and probably filled with… you shudder… neighbors. For now, you disrobe, huck your grody shirt into the hamper and have a shower. While it doesn’t do much for your posture or your general attitude, it leaves you feeling somewhat refreshed.

You plan on heading out for your bonus check soon, so you might as well make yourself look “presentable.” What kind of Julie B. Mitchells are we going for today?

hoodies are neat
B

Ah yeah, Band Name makes the best stuff.
Go for A.

You decide to go with your preferred hoodie, jean shorts and leggings combo. This choice will in no way affect the outcome of today’s events. Why would it? They’re just clothes. You could’ve picked anything, really.

After grabbing your keys and attempting to tame your ridiculous head of hair by repeatedly brushing the same cluster of strands in one direction until your arm gets tired, you take stock of how many pills you have left.

Only two left. Bummer. You need at least four to calm your raging headaches. You take them both with some nearby leftover soda and hope it’ll last you the trip. Of course, if you begin to suffer a migraine, you’re screwed either way. Your migraines are legendarily awful.

You lock the door behind you, ride the elevator down to ground level and exit the foyer. No mail today. Damn… You were looking forward to one of those “Game Day” pizza flyers…

...

Your neighbor is staring at you through his window again. You can tell because the gap between his curtains is occupied by something. Normally a light enters through the window ‘round back and you can see his living room. Not this time. Whenever he’s standing there that empty space is just… black. How does he always know when you’re about to leave? Creep… Gives you goosebumps.

Maybe you should just put your hood up and leave like you usually do… Pretend you don’t see him. Though, today you may be just ornery enough to finally flip him the bird you know he so desperately deserves.

Don't forget your prescription before you go to the pharmacy.