The Black Quill

Thank You For Playing

Remember, I will always be with you.

I woke up in a cold sweat with those words strung up in my mind. What a strange dream, I thought to myself. Rubbing my eyes, it took me a few minutes or so to reestablish my surroundings. The sun gleamed brightly through the glass windows of my studio apartment, its light illuminating the white polyester couches and grey shale flooring below. I reached over my nightstand to pick up my phone and checked for messages.

Instagram:
(Adam Miller): Rachel Hill has requested to follow you

Snapchat:
from Ben

Starbucks | Wallet:
Your balance is now $25.

Hmm, nothing yet. Better check what's going on. I opened my messenger app and tapped on a group chat named "Crop It Like It's Hot." I chuckled under my breath at the name my friends had created. It had been seven years since we first met at English class in our freshman year of college, and each of us always carried around a dysfunctional sense of humor. First, there is Jacob. He was the first friend I met at college, and we quickly became best friends. How might I describe him? Well, I guess you could say he was more on the eccentric side of things. During our lunch breaks at school, he would always mix and mash different foods that typically did not belong together; spaghetti and croutons, chocolate and pizza, ice cream with fries. It was odd, alright, but this earned him the title of the creative friend of our little gang.

     Next, there is John, our glorified meme lord. He was the most comedic one of us, known for his puns, dark jokes, and many references to movies and television shows. For this reason, I always found his company rather enjoyable as he could ramble on and on about topics like why the scarlet witch was more powerful than Thor. Finally, there is Sarah. She was one of those girls you just knew you would get along with the instant you met them. She carried a calm and collected temper around herself and was initially the mom of the group. If either of the three of us guys ever got into a heated argument, you best believe Sarah would be the one to break it up. As for me, well, I'm afraid there's not that much of me to tell other than the fact that I am a huge tech nerd. I'm the one who has always been interested in how phones worked, the one who knew how to point a camera and the best parts to use for building a sufficient enough gaming desktop. For as long as we've all known each other, our personalities seemed to work in perfect harmony. That's how it always has been. How did we meet again? Never mind that. I need to message my friends.

10:50 AM -13 hours left

Me: Yo, the party still on for tonight?

John: Yeah, man, can't wait! What time are we meeting again?

Sarah: 7:30 at Adam's place. You got the drinks, right, John? Or do I need to write you a grocery list?

John: Of course I have them! That was one time! Is this gonna be a thing now? :(

Sarah: Always :P

Me: Guys, focus. Where's Jacob?

John: Don't know. Prob at work right now.

Me: Hmm ok. I'll check up on em. See ya'll tonight!

I turned off my phone and stared mindlessly at the ceiling. The tiny crevices and cracks formed into my mind a canvas of images. On one side, there was a police officer with his blue Cap'n Crunch hat and squarish head. He was saying something loudly, but his voice sounded like a cartoon character, with a bunch of gibberish. On another side, I saw a peculiar hand just out of reach of a delicious, round apple. What am I doing? I better get ready.