Self-Aware Sickness

Introduction

The trains are never late and never early, but they never follow their displayed schedule. They're just always there, waiting for me. Sometimes the announcer will robotically repeat the phrase "THE TRAINS WILL SOON DEPART. PLEASE BOARD NOW." But the trains, they never move without me. Until I board, nothing happens. Until I do anything, nothing happens.

Now I'm not so narcissistic as to imply that the world resolves around me, but it's becoming hard to deny that fact. The weather is always set up in such a way that it matches my activities. When there's something sad happening, or about to happen, it rains, thunders, is cloudy etcetera. When a girl is about to confess to me, the weather shifts almost supernaturally fast to match the situation. It's sunny if I say yes, rainy if I say no. It rains sometimes outside of these events, but even then, when it rains, a person who is supposedly "secretly" in love with me is there with an umbrella, no matter where I am.

When I go on holiday, I never go alone, there's always a friend who just so happens to be there. Are my friends stalkers? To be honest, the idea that I have a group of people dedicating their entire lives to following me around, knowing my every mood and action, controlling my life like a story and even changing the weather to suit me seems more likely than my other theory.

Absurd as it sounds, I believe I may be the protagonist of some kind of novel. The self-centeredness seeps through, eh? Nevermind that, I believe the things I mentioned before are proof enough, but if that weren't enough, I've got more. Both my parents died whilst I was very young, too young to remember. That in and of itself is abnormal, yet normal. However, whenever I think about them, vague images of rainy days or flashbacks overwhelm my senses. Minutes seem to pass in which I am just stuck, remembering. Stranger still, time seems to be completely frozen, or at the very least, slowed down immensely during said flashbacks! In the time I've had a 20 minute flashback, the friends who just happened to be surrounding me can only concernedly blurt out my name 2 or 3 times at the most! No matter what anyone else says, no matter how crazy it sounds, I'm certain that I am in a novel and that I am the protagonist.

Yet, even though I am armed with this knowledge, I no not what to do. I've brought it up a few times, of course, but it's simply been brushed off with a laugh and a simple "You're so silly teehee." From even my closest friends. Strange, but natural. Unnatural however is what follows if I pursue the topic, attempt to convince them that we truly reside within the confines of a novel or something of similar nature. Their eyes turn cold and it feels as if everyone in the world is staring at me, despite how physically impossible that is and how ridiculous that sounds. They stare as if I've learned something I shouldn't. Something I am not allowed to know about. Even now, thinking back on those merciless stares, my body shivers and I can't help but feel those eyes all around me, behind me. I can't even resist turning around to confirm there's no one there, that's how fearful it is. So, I've given up on that particular angle. Whatever story I happen to be residing in, it's clearly not meant to be one in which the protagonist becomes self-aware.

Speaking of which, that brings me to the next matter which has been occupying my brain; what kind of story even is this? So far in ordinary life, not much of note has happened. At most, it seems like some sort of slice of life, set in plain old Earth. And yet, I can't help but feel it's something different. I'm not sure why, it just seems as though the content so far in my life is not enough to satisfy any reader, to fill the pages of any good novel. Of course, it certainly could be the case that it's just a bad novel, but the fact that my parents are dead indicates something different, at least for me. Commonly in stories in which there are supernatural elements, often fighting, the protagonist's parents just so happen to be dead (I'd know, I've read a lot of novels of every different kind to research my situation). So I do believe I may be in some kind of fighting story, or something. The fact that I know little of my parents helps contribute to that fact, I expect sometime in the future it'll be revealed that I have great abilities and the explanation is that my parents themselves were great, possibly aliens or something akin to that. However, I always like to leave other possibilities open, such as romance, mystery or some other genre. It could even be a genre I haven't heard of, one that the writer didn't want me to know about...

Huh? Writer? That's right... if I'm in a novel, there must be a writer. If I am a character, especially a protagonist, my every thought and action must be being controlled, written. A headache splits my mind, the weight of this existentially dreadful problem bringing me to my knees. A-are these even my thoughts? My feelings? Is this headache merely being forced on me to make me feel as if I have some notion of free will and capacity to feel? W-why am I? W-wh?? ?!?! ?! ??! !??! ||RESET||

Hi, my name is Prothain Eleutherios and I'm about to turn 11. The sky is out today and it's particularly hot. I can't help but worry about the future. Ah, shoot! No time to worry about the future, I'm about to be late for my train. I sprint towards my destination, the doors looking as if they're about to close and... Phew! Made it just in time. I can't help but let out a sigh of relief. And lucky me! A free seat, even though I'm this late. I sit down and rest my weary legs, panting only slightly despite running so long. I'm on my school track and field team, you see? We've got quite the important event coming up - nationals. And I'm hoping to be our star runner. You see, I started running a long time ag- Ah, "Excuse me ma'am, would you like to take my seat?" I ask the old lady struggling to stand on the fast moving train, struggling even more not to get pushed down by the large amount of people - this train is cramped, very. She smiles and I smile as she takes my seat and I find a small place to stand. Today's going to be a good day, I can feel it! I can't help but think as I wish for everyday life to continue like this.