I've counted about six hundred forty-nine million, seven hundred seventy-two thousand, and eight hundred twenty-five seconds. Which means I've been stuck like this for about twenty-one years. Because there's eighty-six thousand, four hundred seconds in a day and three hundred fifty-six days in a year. Not that any of this really matters. I've learnt French, Spanish, German, and Japanese. I got bored of the library, so I decided to just walk around until I found a different one. I'm not in New York anymore. I think I'm in Wisconsin. I don't really remember.
I lost track of, well, you can't really call it time. I'm not in denial, I've just accepted my non-fate of being stuck in whatever this is. I haven't left America yet, but I might as well. There isn't a reason not to. There isn't a current and water doesn't exactly move. I could swim there since I don't get tired anyway. Maybe things will be different there. I doubt it, but there's no reason not to hope so.
Since my conscious is all I really have, I've developed this split thinking sort of thing. Even when I read I've gotten accustomed to counting while doing so. After my fourth entry I gave up on writing because there wasn't much of a use to it and I knew I would run out of things to write about very quickly. I'm writing now just for the heck of it. I don't remember much from before all this, but there was this one day that I do remember quite well. It was the day I met my best friend, Mila Luiff. I think I mentioned her a few times in previous entries.
I had run away from home at about eleven years old because my parents kept fighting over dumb little things and it made me angry. I ended up at a park that was pretty far away from the apartment building I lived in and that's where I met her. We ended up talking until it got dark and she convinced me to go back home. If I hadn't listened to her I probably would've died on the streets long before all this happened and maybe that would've been better, but what happened, happened.
YOU ARE READING
Something Real In Hell
Ficção CientíficaTime marches on relentlessly and waits for no one, but does time ever get tired? A 13yro girl ends up being trapped in "limbo, time stopped." Spending all this time alone who or what will keep her going? The cover is mine, btw. ❤️