A Feature Presentation

A Feature Presentation 1: Rude Awakening

Now I'll be completely honest here: I'm no nice guy. At least, I don't really call myself that. I don't go up to people, shake their hand- "Hi! \(^_^) My name is $&#**(| and I'm a nice guy." If you actually go up to people and say that, I hope I never meet you.

I hope nobody ever meets you.

Because, in my eyes, nobody chooses being nice. Hell, I didn't.

See, there's no easy way to put this:

You're probably not very nice. 

Being nice isn't that easy. It's not just a word you can use and boom! That's that. Well, that's at least how people use it now. I'm not saying that you suck, (though you might) but I'm saying that doing this whole nice thing isn't easy. 

It isn't easy for anyone.

It ESPECIALLY isn't easy when everything that surrounds you is a joke. 

I'm not saying funny. I'm saying the people themselves.

Fools.

Well, nothing lasts forever and nothing matters. Yet somehow, we're all here asking people
"Am I nice?" Who cares if you're nice!? Somebody probably does actually.

But it isn't me.

Me? Who's talking about me? You'll probably never even know who I am.
What's funnier is that you'll never even care.

Not a smidgen.

Anyways, shut up and listen.
I mean, if you want to..
I warn you that this'll all sound mindless but- this happened. Was I there?

Yes and no.

~ ~ ~

Indigo woke up to everyone's favorite noise, thunder. He pushed off the sheets and sighed. "Oh, great.." He glanced over at the clock to find it was only five twenty-seven. 

The day went by like any other day and was over before anyone could realize that it had started. Indigo spent the day not remembering what he had done the day before. It felt like there wasn't a point anymore: He would grow up, to go to school, to go to college, to get a job, to die. A never ending cycle of critically boring repeats. It was like constantly spinning a turntable with nothing on it.

The obnoxious white noise of the city didn't help either. White noise that never changed. Nothing ever changed here. Nothing ever changed anywhere! The only thing that ever changed was the weather and that was expected.

Indigo watched the city through his window as everything happened the same way it always did. First this kid would ride his yellow bike on the sidewalk and hop off the curb into the road, like usual. He had done this every single day, no matter the weather, at 7:01PM. It's as if the world around him had been so programmed that he just followed suit. Then Indigo remembered. It was a Wednesday, and that meant an old woman would come and yell at the neighbor for where their car was parked. It happened every Wednesday, with no distinct change. 

After the 'soap opera' between an angry woman and a man's car died down, Indigo decided that he'd sleep. Nothing had happened, per usual. As he laid in bed, his last thought before drifting off was that- maybe something would change tomorrow. Maybe something would be different.

That was the 562nd time he'd thought that before bed, and counting.

~ ~ ~

Everything was going fine, at least for sleeping.

Indigo awoke to some- sound, and a glowing figure floating above his bed. His eyes were too tired to tell what it was, but he was shocked to say the least.
"W- What're you- W-"
The creature shushed him, though he couldn't feel it.. Just the presence of a finger being in front of his mouth without the touch.
It took its finger back. "Hate to bother you at-" It looked down at its arm, presumably at a watch. "..Whenever we are.. But I've got some bad news."

Indigo nodded, though he was terrified. What could be so important?

"..You're not supposed to be here.." It held up a paper with a bunch of symbols Indigo couldn't read, even if his vision was stellar. It wasn't the size.. They were- Of another language. 

The creature went on from there. "You've been in the wrong.. Area.. Of time and space and- Everywhere really. How old are you again?"

Indigo said nothing and just watched in amazement.

The creature paused. "..Right. All I'm saying is that you'll be moving. Pack up a suitcase of things under thirty pounds. No hydroponics, I don't want any druggies with me. Understand? Now you better hurry up, or you'll be going with nothing."

Indigo stayed still for a second before snapping out of it and getting up. He didn't feel tired anymore, he didn't feel anything. He felt touch, but no emotion sprouted from his tired eyes.
Soon, his bag was packed and-

--To be continued soon--