Trapped in the Sims (complete)

Part 23

A/N) Look, I'm still alive and writing!

"Mel -!" I cry after my friend as she races up the stairs, moving surprisingly quickly for a pregnant Sim and stifling muffled sobs behind a hand. "Wait!"

Her bedroom door shuts as I reach the landing and I'm left staring uselessly at the wooden surface, decorated with smiley stickers and a badge claiming 'Melissa's Room'. Below it she's scribbled 'Keep Out (That means you, Kyle)'. I have to smile. Hannah and I didn't put that into the design, that's all Sim work.

Well, I have to try and explain sometime. I raise my fist and knock gently on the door, moving closer and hoping my friend is listening. "Mel. Can I come in? Please let me explain."

There's just silence on the other side of the wall, though I think I can make out a sniff or two.

"Please, Mel. I know I'm - not who you thought I was, but... please just let me explain," I repeat. Tears are coming to my eyes now, unbidden, and I wipe them away quickly. We don't need two emotional teens in the same room, after all. It's not going to achieve anything useful.

Her voice is reluctant and tiny as she finally speaks. "Come in," she instructs, and quickly I obey, relieved that she's at least willing to hear me out. Mel's slumped against the headboard of her bed, holding her rapidly bulging belly and throwing me a hurt, confused stare. My messy camp-bed is still on the floor next to hers, and the whole room is dishevelled and somehow not quite right. There again, what is 'right' about this situation?

"You controlled us! And now your friend's controlling us!" bursts out Melissa immediately. "And that doesn't even make any sense! I don't understand!"

"Believe me, I wish I understood it any more than you," I say somewhat wistfully.

Melissa breathes, exhaling slowly, formulating her thoughts. "You said that - we think you're a Sim," she begins hoarsely, sitting up a little and propping herself against pink pillows at the head of her bed.

"Yes," I agree simply.

"But you're - not."

"Um - no."

"What are you, then?" Mel sounds disbelieving, utterly bewildered by the conversation she's having.

"I'm actually - human. I was dragged into this world by a broken computer, while I was playing -" I swallow. "Playing - your game. The Sims 3."

She inhales sharply. "What?" she breathes.

"I'm not a Sim," I repeat slowly, trying to break it as gently as I can. She deserves at least a chance to understand.

"You said... our game."

This was exactly as tricky as I had feared. The hard, stubborn look in Melissa's eyes shows me I'm not getting away without a full explanation at the very least. "Yes," I agree slowly. "Your game. This whole world - is programmed. It's called the Sims 3. And I'm a human. We play your game. This game."

"I don't understand." Mel's voice is tiny.

"You're a programmed character that I created on the game. It's a simulation game, you see, where you create characters and homes, then live their lives and grow their families." I'm not sure whether there's some kind of textbook for this situation, but if there is I definitely need a copy, judging by the half-horrified, half-confused expression filling my friend's face.

"But I had no idea you were sentient!" I quickly continue, before Melissa can say anything. "In my world, Sims 3 is just a game. And theoretically it should have been impossible for me to get trapped in it - but somehow it happened. And then I made friends with you, and then - you kind of know about as much as I know from then."

"You lied, Rachel!" she blurts. Melissa wipes a tear away from her eye, blinking quickly and staring at me.

"Well, what else could I do?" I counter. "I can't just waltz into your family and announce - 'Oh, by the way, I'm not actually your species and my best friend is unknowingly ruining your lives, but is it okay if I share your house for a bit?' How do you think that would have gone down?"

"You could have told me," murmurs Mel sullenly.

"I know. But I didn't know how to," I explain. "I didn't know where to begin."

"Does anyone else know?" she asks.

"No-one knows the full truth. Kyle knows part of it, though, I needed his help to try and get in contact with Hannah. He knows that she's controlling you, if nothing else."

"So my idiot brother figures it out before I do. Great." Melissa doesn't look at me, her gaze is distant and directed at the pink-carpeted floor.

"Look, Mel, none of this - none of this was ever what I intended," I assure her fervently. "It was a complete coincidence that we met, when I first found myself in Sunset Valley. And I would never try to hurt you or any Sim deliberately. I tried to find a way to stop Hannah, I really did. She doesn't know you guys are alive either, and she truly doesn't mean to hurt you. She - we have just always liked to make our games dramatic. But I never dreamed you would actually feel it. I'm so sorry, Mel."

Melissa still looks sceptical, the look in her eyes unreadable.

"Friends?" I ask, desperately hoping for the affirmative answer. I'm not sure I could live with myself if the sweet, kind Melissa hated me for all time.

Luckily, after an agonizing moment, her gaze finally softens at my stricken, pleading expression. Mel flashes me a tiny smile. "Friends," she confirms. "I guess... you can't help it if your best friend is a scheming control freak and you somehow got sucked into this world by a demon computer. And you're apparently losing your memories and need to get out of Sunset Valley somehow."

"When you put it that way, it sounds even more farfetched than it already feels," I comment, and Melissa actually giggles a little.

"Now I'm going to help you," I say, business-like again.

"How?"

"Um -" I look hopefully at the ceiling where Hannah's voice had come from previously. "Hopefully we have a little outside help with that one."

"I still have like a million questions," Melissa sniffs, trying another tentative smile.

"I'd love to say that everything will be explained at some point, but I'm not sure that it will ever really make sense to me."

"That's okay, I guess." Melissa rubs her stomach, wincing. "I think maybe it's better just not to think about it."

"True."

"Ok." Hannah is suddenly back, her voice unexpectedly resonating around the bedroom. I stand up immediately, and help a tired-looking Melissa to her feet as well next to me at her gesture. "I think I know how to get you out of there."

I flash a look at Melissa, who takes a deep breath, then nods.

"Hold on, Hannah," I suddenly request, a notion springing to mind. "Can you just wait for one more Sim day, please?"

"Um - why?" Hannah asks, confused. "I thought you said the longer that you stayed in the game, the more Sim you become."

I look back at Melissa and share her smile as she realises what I mean. "There's just one more thing I need to do first."