Their brain has gone. I am their subconscious. I took over from their brain when it couldn't go on any more. Your subconscious can't do that, can it? Haha, how cute.
They sit up, look around, have a quick stretch, yawn. Although to be honest, why you would be tired after sleeping for five days, I haven't the faintest clue. They call out, "Hello? Is anybody there? I'm confused and hungry and I need the loo!" Oh, poor thing. Keep shouting, little child, keep shouting but know that no one will ever hear you.
They're standing up now. "Where the hell am I? Where are the people I know? The silver necklace, the gold gun? The password?!" They are beginning to shout frantically now. Ugh, stupid child. When I said 'keep shouting', I meant it sarcastically. No one will hear you, and you're doing my head in.
They sit down again, puzzled. They take another moment to observe their surroundings. A white room, with white walls and floorboards and a trapdoor on the ceiling. They haven't noticed the trapdoor yet. And I don't plan on letting them.
There is also a device in one corner of the room. It has a screen and a keypad. The screen is off, the lights on the keys dark. Upon noticing the device, they stand up and walk over to it. They prod the screen, and press a few keys. They try this over and over again. Nothing. Nothing, nothing but a small sound coming from behind them. They turn around to see a small screw on the floor. They then look up to the ceiling. Oh no. Dammit, they've seen the trapdoor. One of the screws must have come loose. I have to remind the caretakers to maintain the place properly.
When the stupid child sees the stupid trapdoor they grin. Stupidly. Great, now they've found a way out. All they need to do is loosen the other three screws. But how?
Eight millennia have passed. The child obviously doesn't think so because they aren't all that fussed. They probably think it's only been about eight minutes. They spent that eight minutes searching the room for a way to loosen the other screws. Watching a stupid child look around a blank room for eight minutes is about as amusing as watching paint dry.
Satisfied that they aren't going to find anything this side of midnight, they give up and lie down on the floor to sleep. Sleep eventually comes, and with sleep come dreams. And I, of course, get to see those dreams, because after all, I am their subconscious.
YOU ARE READING
This Reality
Mystery / ThrillerA psychological story told by the voice in the head of the main character. In a world where fictional works are forbidden, they wake up in the room. They don't know where, or who, or what they are. They meet some people. Some mysterious people. As t...
