He feels her silky hips. He sees her sweet smile. He feels her warm touch.
"Do you love me, Anon?"
"Oh, I love you so much, Zero Two. I would do anything for you. I would even..."
He pauses, working up the courage to say it.
"I would even... die for you."
"Really? OMG, that's so sweet! I love you so much, Anon!"
They smile at each other, and then start giggling.
"I love you so much too, Zero Two."
Anon can feel the warmth emanating all throughout the room. It's like his entire field of vision is being eclipsed by light and love. He feels like, despite all the struggles, despite all the heartbreak, despite all the sorrow and aching soul, maybe he's worth it. Maybe he's ok. Maybe he's worth loving.
Anon starts to cry.
"Are you ok?"
Anon laughs through the tears. Not a forced laugh, but a genuine one. There is true joy in his face.
"Zero Two, I'm more ok than I've ever been in my life."
—
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
It was that fucking alarm again.
Anon hated that alarm. He hated it so much. It had a cruel sense of humor, and it was always finding new and creative ways to torment him more. Every morning, it interrupted his rest at the worst possible moment. Anon could never sleep, and was always tossing and turning in his bed, trying not to remember the dismal state of his life. And just when he could finally relax, just when he finally did drift off, just when he finally, at least, found peace, that fucking alarm was there to torture him.
Anon tried to go back asleep, but it was already too late. The damn thing was too loud. And he had to get up to turn it off. He hated himself for setting it, he hated it for actually going off when he told it to, he hated the store that sold it for selling such a terrible thing, and he hated the overseas workers who had built the monstrosity. Oh, you're 13 and work for 17 cents an hour? Boo hoo! Grow up!
Even if the alarm were a little quieter, he still wouldn't be able to drift back off. He had all his curtains and windows open, and bright sunlight was pouring in, making it impossible to get any more shut-eye. "Wow," he thought to himself. "The universe sure loves to make me suffer." A few months ago, he had thought of stuff like this as a joke. "Haha, damn, I really can't catch a break!", he would tell himself, forcing a laugh. But now, he wasn't so sure it was a joke anymore.
He had left the curtains and windows open for two reasons. First, because he had watched some neuro-coach self-help guy on YouTube say that if you get bright sunlight in the morning you get more dopamine or something. Second, because he didn't want an axe-murderer to be discouraged by a closed window.
The sunlight felt itchy and uncomfortable, and he tried to get into darkness under his covers. But he had thin, translucent covers, and it was bright as day beneath them. He had bought them at the cheapest store he knew, with a $50 bill his mom had mailed him for Christmas. She had offered to take him to Mattress Firm to shop together, but he didn't have that kind of money. And even if he did, he hated her, so he wouldn't have gone anyways.
He hated her because she had fucked him up as a child. She never let him buy Pokemon cards. "We don't have enough money," she would always say, to which he would always think "Yeah, because you're not working enough fucking hours!"
He never said this, of course. He had been a good boy, quiet and obedient. He had always put up with her bullshit.
He had tried to be nice. He had tried to be understanding. He really had.
But he had damn near no more patience left in him. She had emotionally abused him for so long, and deprived him of all the things that normal children got to have, and he was So. Fucking. Sick of it. Anon tossed and turned under the covers for a few more minutes muttering under his breath, thinking about how much of a cunt his mom was for not buying him those Pokemon cards.
Finally, out of sheer spite, he sat up in bed. He looked around his room and, just like every other morning, instantly felt like killing himself.
Bang energy cans peppered the floor. Dust bunnies huddled up in every crevice. Stains were soaked into every surface.
He lived in a hellhole.
After looking around his room, his attention turned to his own body. As he looked down at himself, he felt the familiar sensation of self-hate. His stomach distended like a bag of potatoes. His legs were thin as birch wood branches. His feet looked like they were covered in barnacles.
Anon didn't have any mirrors in his house, and for good reason.
He didn't just live in a hellhole. He was a hellhole.
The only reason he even got out of bed at all, ever, was because of Dungeons and Dragons. There, he could be whatever he wanted to. There, he could be strong, smart, witty, accomplished, and confident. There, he could actually be worth something.
Plus his degenerate friend Aidan, the Dungeon Master, let him fuck the female characters sometimes.
That was cool too.
While his ice cream and chocolate were still in the blender, Anon decided to check his phone. He had a new text from Aidan. "D&D at my house today," it read. "And btw, we have a new player joining our group today, Anon".
"What's his name?" Anon texted back.
"It's a she," Aidan responded. "And her name is Evelynn."
A SHE???
Anon didn't know what he was feeling. But he was definitely feeling something, and that hadn't been true for years.
Was this what normal people meant by excitement?
To be continued...
