Borderline Dead and Electric

Chapter 1 page 1 The big bad city 

I opened my eyes to find myself in a familiar place; it reminded me of a void, an endless, empty, dark space.
I felt like I was floating; it was nice and calming; it felt safe, as if I were in my own little pocket dimension.
I enjoyed floating here.
I didn't have some nagging fear or anxiety tugging at the back of my mind, it was nice and quiet.
My body felt as if it could finally relax.
I allowed my shoulders to fall back and stretched my arms and legs out.
My body ached from the tension leaving it, but it was nice if only this could last longer.
I closed my eyes once more, knowing all of this would come to an end soon enough.
I took a deep breath in and let out a soft sigh, enjoying whatever time I had left here, but as if on cue, something started to nag at me, tension tearing into my body anxiety bubbling to the surface of my mind.

I could hear a repetitive bell ring out.
Waking up with my cat Mystic up against me, I notice my phone just about ready to jump off the nightstand
With my body in protest I made an attempt to turn my phone's alarm off, rolling over and reaching out for it, but in a blink of an eye, I was on the floor face first, rolling over yet again to stop the excessive ringing.
Far too late, my phone vibrated off the nightstand and onto my face.
After fumbling with it for a second, I turned it off.
Still groggy, I let out a tired grown

"What a lovely start".

Mystic looked down at me, tilting her head as if she were asking me, "Are you alright?" I gave her a thumbs up, and she went back to bed.

"Thanks Mystic."

After waking up and making myself look presentable, I decide to skip out on getting food and head up to my studio to finish working on some projects, among other stuff.
As I got to my desk and started working I found myself getting lost in my head as I worked.
There was always a little voice telling me the worst things.

( You're not doing anything productive by sitting here playing with trash, you know. )

I would get tired of its banter quality.

( First off, I am being productive; I'm making stuff to sell, and second, this is not trash; it's art... my art.)

No matter what I did it would always find a way to hurt me.

( Oh yeah, I forgot hotgluing bits of cardboard together and painting pretty little clouds on a canvas is considered art, and what about that helmet are you going to sell it? )

I glanced over at a helmet that was currently drying by an open window. I had spent a month making it. It was made with cardboard, papier-mâché, clay, and spray paint. I even made some holes in the ears so it could light up, and to finish it off I had carefully poured two part resin over the whole thing to keep it from getting ruined.
I was proud of it, but now I had a nagging guilt creeping up in my mind.
Or maybe...

( You wasted so many resources just to keep it? I thought you wanted to sell this, what a waste of money. )

( ... )

I always found a way to hurt myself...

(You could be doing something actually important with your life, but instead you chose to waste it with this.
You are wasting everyone's time you don't even have the courage to get a real job or make a difference in this horrible world.
You are pathetic-)

I was interrupted mid-thought by a twisted, aching feeling in my intestines and stomach.
I checked the time to find that a couple hours had passed.
Hungry and sad, I decided that I have had enough of this.
Getting up from my chair, I headed down to my room, turning the lights off only to see them flicker before turning off.
"huh?" trying to remind myself that I had done enough I entered my room, I saw Mystic on my bed, heading to the door leading out of my room.
I looked over at her and said,

"Well, would you like to get some food with me?"

Mystic jumped over to follow, heading down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Mystic went straight to her food bowl, grabbing a can of wet food.

I walked over "You must be as hungry as me, heh, here."

I kneeled down and empty the can into her bowl, as happy as a cat can be.
She rubbed her head against me once and Doug into her food, feeling somewhat better seeing my little friend eating happily.
I got up and headed to the fridge and grab a small container of soup and went to heat it up, leaning against the counter.

(Now as I start to think of it
My mother wasn't in the house, so that meant she was probably in her greenhouse.
I wondered if I could just avoid her today, but that would be rude of me, and besides that, she would assume I was angry at her.)

wishing I could just avoid the politics and daily the drama she had to offer and it had only gotten worse this month and as far as politics they really weren't that great here.
I started for the back door to the greenhouse.
It wasn't like I could tell her not to talk about it or to chains the subject.
She always had this way of making people feel bad or like they did something wrong for no reason the worst part was she didn't even know she was doing it.

She was oblivious to it.