If I'm being honest I didn't know where to start. It was a regular Monday morning. Since we're being honest here - it sucked. As I logged on the overwhelming stimuli hits me like a truck. The pollen from the flowers hitting me in the face like a strong breeze of wind. I bit the inside of my cheek resisting the urge to rip the flowers from the ground. The nearby bees hovering over the flowers like a mothering hen eye me as I shift slightly in my stance. Brushing off the temptation I lean down to the ponds edge seeking my reflection. My netherite helmet laid crookedly on my head. It's battered state reminding me of its repairs that are due. A sigh escapes me at my disheveled state. I should have brought it long ago back to the enderman farm. I pull myself to my feet and walk over to my house as I enter it I fetch the book from a nearby shelf.
I flip mindlessly through the pages until I stumble upon the warp. My fingers twitch slightly with anticipation as I press down on the sigil. The nearby nether portal explodes. The purple and black flames flicking towards me. The vibrations sucking me closer to the end of the obsidian. With a deep breathe I find the courage to walk in. The hair on my arms raise as I step through the portal feeling every molecule of my being vibrate. Suddenly, gravity seems to decrease substantially as I'm spit onto the hard end stone brick floor. Nearby Elijah works steadily slaying endermen. His pickaxe in one hand while his right arm swings perfectly holding a enchanted netherite sword.
"Having a rough time?" Elijah calls out over the loud rumble of the crowded endermen. The screams of them being slayed makes me cringe. The magical green particles vibrate towards Elijah. It was horrible to think of the life force he was draining. Similar to when another player thrusts their sword through a friends heart. It's all fun and games until you realize that friend refuses to log on. Their body remaining soulless on the floor.
I sigh to myself noticing the dead-chest in the corner of the farm. Thats when you know someone has died there. The ground remains charred similar to an explosion. The singed ashes painting a picture around the object destroyed in the incident. I never understand why people chose to neglect their dead chest. Perhaps it was too painful to remember their death. Whether it was from a friend or a foe. Or perhaps a slip in a terrible accident that causes the person to plummet to their death. Regardless, this all felt too real.
"Hello? Are you AFK? Noooo." A timid voice says behind me. I turn to see my friend, Spicy standing holding her shovel. She eyes Elijah who start to lurk closer to the inside of the farm. The blood crazed look in his eyes flashes against his pickaxe which lays humming from XP causing his hand to shake slightly.
"Sorry no, I just noticed Elijah is hogging up the farm," I joke subtly. Spicy pushes back her long wavy hair and takes her helmet off of her head. She props it under her arm and groans.
"He's been at it for over ten minutes. I think he's bored," she ponders. She shrugs and glances over to Mariah. Mariah stands shyly behind her giving off a small wave. Although Mariah was quiet, she couldn't blend in well with the surroundings.
Spicy stood there with clout goggles, light brown hair, a light blue jumper and combat pants on. Meanwhile Mariah had medium length black straight hair, and a complete black outfit on. She seemed like the black sheep of the group. No one dared question her shyness. Perhaps, she was too nice and cute to be hassled. We all knew one thing for sure though, Mariah was everywhere. She saw everything. And yet she was still so mysterious.
"Has Ozy been on today?" I question pulling my book back out to press on home sigil. Spicy glances at Mariah. She looks back to me with a shrug and a lop sided grin.
"I think he's mad again. Ever since I weakened his avatar he hasn't been on. I kinda feel bad," Spicy mumbles the last part. A small giggle escapes me, my fingers mindlessly flipping through the pages of my book.
