Life Anew
Posted: Wed Oct 09, 2019 9:29 pm
((At least the rain had finally stopped.))
The lower wilds were the same as they ever were, thick trees blocking his vision, the sounds of the wild filling his ears, the smell of damp plant-life overwhelming his nostrils. Richard once again found himself sitting on a boulder, gazing at his gun, unsure of his standing in the world.
He growled at himself, scowling and gripping the bridge of his nose in frustration. What the hell had he been doing these last few days? Such a short time had passed, and he had already completely forgotten the whole reason he hadn't just blown his brains out the moment woke up. He had been acting like a damn moron, willingly letting himself be too friendly with the people around him. What would have happened if he had run into someone that wasn't being an idiot like him?
He had to survive this, he had to be the last man standing. He had to go along with this stupid game, and he had to be the one to win.
He didn't have a choice.
He sat there for a very long time, considering his options, his plan of attack. Eventually, his mind wandered as he sat there, staring at the ground, his thoughts drifting away from this place, only to arrive at a memory of a time that now felt like a millennia ago.
~*~
The sound of Richard's alarm blaring from the clock on his nightstand greeted his return to consciousness. He sat up, fumbling for it in the dark of his bedroom, hitting the button to stop the noise just as it was really starting to irritate him.
He got out of bed and moved towards the switch, the lights blinding him as they came on. His room was the same as always. A tidy place, with blandly painted beige walls alongside a slightly discolored, beige carpet. The one window to the outside world was obscured by heavy, dark curtains, and his door leading out to the rest of the apartment remained closed and undisturbed.
His twin sized bed sat across one wall, covered in messy, navy blue sheets. His dresser sat in the corner, old and wooden, with the cracked, white, plastic hamper full of his dirty laundry sitting next to it. His PC setup sat quietly in the corner opposite the dresser, his subpar office chair sitting slightly askew in front of it.
He trudged towards the dresser, yanking open the top drawer and pulling out some fresh clothes. It was time for him to get ready for school before the bus arrived. Throwing on the first set of clothes he yanked out and depositing his pajamas on his bed, he flung open his door and walked out.
The apartment was mostly the same as his room. Tidy, beige, and mostly empty. The door to his mom's bedroom was open, as was the door to the bathroom, though the lights were off in both cases. Sunlight streamed through the window into the combined living room and kitchen, illuminating the place.
The small, flat screen television which sat in front of the couch and coffee table was still on, though it was quiet enough that he didn't hear it until now. He glanced over at the kitchen, noticing a small orange bottle full of light blue pills, the name "COLETTE SMITH" emblazoned on the white label, sitting on the counter.
Walking over to the TV to turn it off, he finally noticed his mother lying asleep on the couch, an open box wine and a half finished glass of the stuff sitting on the coffee table in front of her. He sighed, before reaching down and gently taking hold of her shoulder.
"Mom," he said, lightly squeezing her. "You're late for work."
Eventually, after a few repetitions of that, she stirred awake, looking around before abruptly sitting up.
"I think you forgot to set an alarm," he continued, pointing towards her bedroom.
"No no," his mother replied, groggily rubbing her eyes. "I took the day off today. Did I forget to tell you?"
"I think so," he replied back, moving towards the kitchen. "But that's alright, I was just worried you were going to get in trouble or something."
He pulled out a bowl from the cabinet and a spoon from the drawer, before fetching a box of cheap cereal from atop the refrigerator and a carton of milk from inside it. Sitting down at the table, he quickly poured out a bowl and began wolfing it down.
Once he was finished, he stood up and rinsed the bowl out in the sink, before leaving it there and moving towards the door. He began to open it gingerly, only for his mother to speak up.
"Hey um, sweetie," she said, falteringly. "I could take you to school today, if you want me to."
"Sure mom," he replied, softly.
Together, they left the building, eventually arriving at his mother's car, parked out in front of the building. They both got in without a word, his mother taking the driver's seat while Richard sat next to her in the passenger's seat.
As they started driving, Richard stared out the window, silently taking in the city around him. A few minutes passed before his mother finally broke the silence.
"You know," she began, her voice somewhat quiet. "It gets lonely in there sometimes, with nobody else around, and you spending all your time in your room."
He shifted in his seat, his head turning to face his mother. "I prefer the quiet, honestly. Plus, you know how I just don't like dealing with people."
"Y-yeah," his mother replied, her voice shaky. "I know."
It was silent again, for another few scant minutes. This time, it was Richard that broke the silence.
"I'm guessing your date last night didn't go so well?" He asked, fairly bluntly.
"No…" She murmured, choking slightly as her eyes began to water. "It didn't, sweetie."
His gaze returned to the window, as he watched the school approaching in the distance.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"It's okay sweetie," his mother replied, sniffling. "It's not your fault."
She reached over with one hand, affectionately ruffling his hair. "And you help me just by being you."
"But," she continued, her voice temporarily losing its normal melancholy, instead gaining a certain warmth. "You really need to shower, your hair is getting all greasy."
"Guess I'll do it when I get home," he replied, his tone equally warm.
A few more minutes passed, the quiet hum of the road beneath the wheels being the only sound he could hear. Eventually, they arrived at the George Hunter parking lot, and once the car finally stopped, Richard moved to get out.
"Have a good day at school, sweetie."
He looked back at his mother as he stepped out of the car. He saw the exhaustion in her face, the sorrow in her eyes, and he stopped moving.
"Hey, uh," he began to say, "when I get home, do you wanna like… play some board games, or something like that?"
His mother smiled, ever so slightly.
"Sure, sweetie, I'd love to."
~*~
As much as he wished he could just take the easy way out, and not have to go through with all the misery and death required to win, he didn't have a choice. He was all his mom had left, and he didn't know how she would cope if he died. He had to make it back home, for her.
He was broken out of his thoughts and reminiscing by the sound of something loudly hitting the ground, some distance behind him. Instantly, he flipped around, brandishing his gun in the direction of the noise, holding it steady with both of his hands.
"Who's there?" He shouted, glaring angrily at the area in front of him. "Come out with your hands up if you don't want to get shot!"
He stood there for several moments, the only response that greeted him being the calls of birds. Part of him questioned his own senses, suggesting that maybe paranoia had gotten the better of him, and he was just hearing things, shouting at ghosts that weren't even there.
Another part of him didn't want to take the risk if he was actually right.
"I know somebody's there," he shouted anew, his voice and hands growing more unsteady as his anxiety increased. "Show yourself!"
The lower wilds were the same as they ever were, thick trees blocking his vision, the sounds of the wild filling his ears, the smell of damp plant-life overwhelming his nostrils. Richard once again found himself sitting on a boulder, gazing at his gun, unsure of his standing in the world.
He growled at himself, scowling and gripping the bridge of his nose in frustration. What the hell had he been doing these last few days? Such a short time had passed, and he had already completely forgotten the whole reason he hadn't just blown his brains out the moment woke up. He had been acting like a damn moron, willingly letting himself be too friendly with the people around him. What would have happened if he had run into someone that wasn't being an idiot like him?
He had to survive this, he had to be the last man standing. He had to go along with this stupid game, and he had to be the one to win.
He didn't have a choice.
He sat there for a very long time, considering his options, his plan of attack. Eventually, his mind wandered as he sat there, staring at the ground, his thoughts drifting away from this place, only to arrive at a memory of a time that now felt like a millennia ago.
~*~
The sound of Richard's alarm blaring from the clock on his nightstand greeted his return to consciousness. He sat up, fumbling for it in the dark of his bedroom, hitting the button to stop the noise just as it was really starting to irritate him.
He got out of bed and moved towards the switch, the lights blinding him as they came on. His room was the same as always. A tidy place, with blandly painted beige walls alongside a slightly discolored, beige carpet. The one window to the outside world was obscured by heavy, dark curtains, and his door leading out to the rest of the apartment remained closed and undisturbed.
His twin sized bed sat across one wall, covered in messy, navy blue sheets. His dresser sat in the corner, old and wooden, with the cracked, white, plastic hamper full of his dirty laundry sitting next to it. His PC setup sat quietly in the corner opposite the dresser, his subpar office chair sitting slightly askew in front of it.
He trudged towards the dresser, yanking open the top drawer and pulling out some fresh clothes. It was time for him to get ready for school before the bus arrived. Throwing on the first set of clothes he yanked out and depositing his pajamas on his bed, he flung open his door and walked out.
The apartment was mostly the same as his room. Tidy, beige, and mostly empty. The door to his mom's bedroom was open, as was the door to the bathroom, though the lights were off in both cases. Sunlight streamed through the window into the combined living room and kitchen, illuminating the place.
The small, flat screen television which sat in front of the couch and coffee table was still on, though it was quiet enough that he didn't hear it until now. He glanced over at the kitchen, noticing a small orange bottle full of light blue pills, the name "COLETTE SMITH" emblazoned on the white label, sitting on the counter.
Walking over to the TV to turn it off, he finally noticed his mother lying asleep on the couch, an open box wine and a half finished glass of the stuff sitting on the coffee table in front of her. He sighed, before reaching down and gently taking hold of her shoulder.
"Mom," he said, lightly squeezing her. "You're late for work."
Eventually, after a few repetitions of that, she stirred awake, looking around before abruptly sitting up.
"I think you forgot to set an alarm," he continued, pointing towards her bedroom.
"No no," his mother replied, groggily rubbing her eyes. "I took the day off today. Did I forget to tell you?"
"I think so," he replied back, moving towards the kitchen. "But that's alright, I was just worried you were going to get in trouble or something."
He pulled out a bowl from the cabinet and a spoon from the drawer, before fetching a box of cheap cereal from atop the refrigerator and a carton of milk from inside it. Sitting down at the table, he quickly poured out a bowl and began wolfing it down.
Once he was finished, he stood up and rinsed the bowl out in the sink, before leaving it there and moving towards the door. He began to open it gingerly, only for his mother to speak up.
"Hey um, sweetie," she said, falteringly. "I could take you to school today, if you want me to."
"Sure mom," he replied, softly.
Together, they left the building, eventually arriving at his mother's car, parked out in front of the building. They both got in without a word, his mother taking the driver's seat while Richard sat next to her in the passenger's seat.
As they started driving, Richard stared out the window, silently taking in the city around him. A few minutes passed before his mother finally broke the silence.
"You know," she began, her voice somewhat quiet. "It gets lonely in there sometimes, with nobody else around, and you spending all your time in your room."
He shifted in his seat, his head turning to face his mother. "I prefer the quiet, honestly. Plus, you know how I just don't like dealing with people."
"Y-yeah," his mother replied, her voice shaky. "I know."
It was silent again, for another few scant minutes. This time, it was Richard that broke the silence.
"I'm guessing your date last night didn't go so well?" He asked, fairly bluntly.
"No…" She murmured, choking slightly as her eyes began to water. "It didn't, sweetie."
His gaze returned to the window, as he watched the school approaching in the distance.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"It's okay sweetie," his mother replied, sniffling. "It's not your fault."
She reached over with one hand, affectionately ruffling his hair. "And you help me just by being you."
"But," she continued, her voice temporarily losing its normal melancholy, instead gaining a certain warmth. "You really need to shower, your hair is getting all greasy."
"Guess I'll do it when I get home," he replied, his tone equally warm.
A few more minutes passed, the quiet hum of the road beneath the wheels being the only sound he could hear. Eventually, they arrived at the George Hunter parking lot, and once the car finally stopped, Richard moved to get out.
"Have a good day at school, sweetie."
He looked back at his mother as he stepped out of the car. He saw the exhaustion in her face, the sorrow in her eyes, and he stopped moving.
"Hey, uh," he began to say, "when I get home, do you wanna like… play some board games, or something like that?"
His mother smiled, ever so slightly.
"Sure, sweetie, I'd love to."
~*~
As much as he wished he could just take the easy way out, and not have to go through with all the misery and death required to win, he didn't have a choice. He was all his mom had left, and he didn't know how she would cope if he died. He had to make it back home, for her.
He was broken out of his thoughts and reminiscing by the sound of something loudly hitting the ground, some distance behind him. Instantly, he flipped around, brandishing his gun in the direction of the noise, holding it steady with both of his hands.
"Who's there?" He shouted, glaring angrily at the area in front of him. "Come out with your hands up if you don't want to get shot!"
He stood there for several moments, the only response that greeted him being the calls of birds. Part of him questioned his own senses, suggesting that maybe paranoia had gotten the better of him, and he was just hearing things, shouting at ghosts that weren't even there.
Another part of him didn't want to take the risk if he was actually right.
"I know somebody's there," he shouted anew, his voice and hands growing more unsteady as his anxiety increased. "Show yourself!"