The Descend Of The Decent Talkers

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(I'm writing this with an headache, so, many edits might be done. Or not.)

Everything was peaceful, aside from the everyday chaos of a normal, pre-modern world, until one day, a virus that greatly tempts all humans to converse in a "Jeje-Text" way, slowly destroys them by miscommunication.

Only a few is still determined to keep resisting the virus and converse in a non-annoying and decent way. One of them is Lo.

(Also, what the fuck is this title? The Descend Of The Decent Talkers? Sounds like what some pothead would say when they're not on drugs, for once.)

A burning sensation to talk to somebody rose from the pits of my stomach.

"What.. what is this feeling..?" I thought, caressing my stomach to hopefully subdue this temptation, somehow.

(This is not Lo, btw.)

I curled up into a ball at my bed and hoped for it to go away, but to no avail. As moments passed, I felt it gradually become bigger inside me. The lights in my room were closed, helping the eerie silence that was choking me.

"S-someone.. to.. talk to...!" As I internally suffered further, I heard voices outside my room.

"It must be mom and sis! Are they arguing?" I thought. My body suddenly stood by itself, and charged towards the voices outside my room. I felt sweaty and desperate as I ran towards the door, not that it took too long to go from my bed to there, but it felt longer than what it's supposed to be, as if the universe wants me to suffer from this temptation...

"hi where u?" I blurted out as I popped from my dark room.

"dafaq is hpening?!" My sister yelled.

"clm dwn ill thnk of somthing its gunna b allrite" Mom said without any tone, but it was obvious from her facial expression that she was the one who needed to calm down.

"y r u speakn leik dat!?" I asked, and found myself doing so too. "y am I speakn leik dis???,"

To be continued.. somehow.. maybe...

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