The Cult of Glow Snek

Chapter 5

As the hours passed and night approached, we got tired and went inside. Back in my room, I was alone.

I laid in bed and tried falling asleep, but no luck. I just stared at the ceiling while my brain stewed in the usual anxieties. Fuck, why was I such a waste?

Of course I dropped everything in my life for this stupid plan to come here. My life was shit. I worked a minimum-wage job at a fucking supermarket, and I have no real friends or worthwhile hobbies.

And of course my life was shit because I was shit. My dad and grandma worked their asses off to pay for my fucking college, and I ended up wasting my time and their money because I couldn't decide what I wanted to be. I took whatever classes sounded interesting, thinking I'd eventually settle on a field, and backing out of any major when things got too hard.

When they started revoking immigrants' legal statuses, I couldn't sign up for classes anymore. I had more than enough time to earn a degree; I could have got something out of it to make them proud, but I didn't.

I reached for my phone. None of my usual distractions would load. No pirated premium TV shows to binge-watch for hours. No artsy sci-fi movies to overanalyze. No gross, weird porn to feel embarrassed about after. No colorful, horror-themed art to like and share on social media. No moody synth-rap to regret playing after realizing it made my feelings worse. It was the fucking signal jamming.

I slid the phone under my pillow.

This unnamed but familiar feeling was bubbling up. A wave of pitch-black sadness came suddenly and crashed against me. It swirled into a vortex pulling me under.

I sat in bed and cried at the wrongness of myself and everything. I wanted to hook my fingers under the skin below my eyes and pull until I ripped my whole fucking face off. I wanted to grab and twist my own arm until it tore off.

My grandma was the lucky one; she died before I really showed what a disappointment I was. My mother too, though I was a baby when she was killed. How could such a brave, driven person have made me?

This darkness, this crushing sadness, it's been there for as long as I could remember. Like always, the feeling struck hard in quiet moments but passed quickly.

I used to confuse it for loneliness—I was often lonely, but being with others only distracts me from the feeling. The only solution was distraction.

I'on know, maybe it was actually loneliness. I didn't pretend to understand myself. The knowable, conscious mind was only the tip of the iceberg, and self-reflection only led to confusion.

I reflexively grabbed my phone again as if the result would be any different. It wasn't. I got up and headed to the living room, sat on the beige couch, and flipped through the channels.

There was a piece on CNN about the effects of the 1995 Democratization & Decentralization reforms on today's Soviet Union. It was the kind of thing I'd normally be interested in, but I wasn't in the mood for politics.

I couldn't find anything to hold my attention. I settled on some nineties cartoons, but I was quickly zoning out.

By the time the sunlight vanished from the window, I could feel that darkness start to creep back up. I needed something to do to keep it at bay.

I didn't come to this place just to be sad and watch TV. I came to find excitement. I came to find answers. I got up and went outside. What was Alex up to?

#

Breathing out clouds, I stood outside in the cold and knocked on the door before shoving my hand back in my jacket pocket. I pulled my hand out to knock again, but the door of the prefab opened.