He was Almost Absorbed by the System

Chapter Six - Cannon Fodder's Shrink

"So, Warren, what have you been up to since we last spoke?" In a room that could only be considered stereotypical for it's use, Warren sat on a hard sofa nearby to a woman in a navy dress suit, who sat in an equally hard looking armchair. She sat with one leg across the other, four inch read heels adorning her small feet. She wore an amicable smile upon her face.

"Studied a bit, tried to eat a rock, played games on my phone," he replied, counting these events upon his fingers as he spoke.

She blinked rapidly, digesting the unexpected part of his answer. "A rock?"

"My mum baked a cake." The woman knew that Warren's mother was not a homemaker and her cooking skills were basic at best. Both his parents worked hard all week and barely saw their son during those days. They used to try to spend time with him at weekends, but Warren's dad had experienced difficulties at work, meaning his hours started to stretch into the weekend and Warren had become more withdrawn over the past couple of years. His mum blamed herself, for being a working woman rather than a full-time mum, for Warren's depression and suicide attempt, despite Warren's reassurances that it wasn't her fault.

"How did it taste?"  The psychiatrist asked him, seeming curious.

"Awful." He said this with a slight smile.

"Did you do anything else? Did you go out at all?" Warren shook his head. "How do you feel about that?" He shrugged. It wasn't like he had anywhere to go, he didn't start attending his new school for another week. The woman inwardly sighed, but was professional enough to keep any signs of frustration from her face. Warren was not the first patient to have difficulties opening up to her. "Can we talk a little about your schooling?" He glanced at her but said nothing. "Are you excited about starting your new school?"

"Not really."

"Do you have any worries concerning the move to a new school?" He didn't answer. There was a long pause in communication and the psychologist wondered if she should wrap up the session early. However, a trilling tone interrupted her thoughts. Warren reddened slightly. He'd forgotten to turn off his phone. "It's okay, you can check the message if you want." She thought he might refuse politely and was surprised when she saw him almost eagerly check his phone.

There are three types of people in this world; those who are good at maths and those who are not. Apparently, I should find this funny.

A slight smirk appeared upon Warren's face, surprising the psychologist. "Something good?" She inquired.

Warren glanced at her for a moment, wondering just how much he ought to share. He considered these sessions as part of his penance for the actions he'd performed in this host and in a way, those of his past. Of course, he couldn't share this with the psychologist; Oh I just happen to perform missions for an entity called the System and by the way, you guys are all just data in a large alien database. Talk about a one way ticket to be locked up in a mental institution. Just data, those words he had chanted like a mantra over so many life times, before he'd finally become numb to his actions. Because they didn't look like data, they didn't sound like data, they didn't feel like data. In the beginning he had wondered why the people in the worlds generally looked human, like they were from different time periods in human history or human myths. The System had told him that was how his mind translated the data flowing into him. It was a sort of protective mechanism, allowing him to integrate more easily into each world.

"It's from my fr.. I mean someone from school," Warren admitted, finally. Math abandoned me long ago, he text back, before adding; Nice timing on the text.

"Your old school?" The psychologist tried her best to hide her surprise. The boy had never mentioned any friends in their sessions. She only knew that he'd been lonely and a victim of bullying at that school. "A teacher? One of the bullies?"

Warren shook his head. "It was the person who saved me," he whispered quietly. The woman let this information sink in.

"So he's your friend."

"I dunno, we just text each other sometimes." Taking a step back, she made some other enquiries into his life, although all she got for her efforts were mostly single word answers, until another text came through.

Always at your service. Hey, know this is out of the blue, but do you want to play some golf this weekend?

Warren froze staring at the random invitation. What was golf? He recalled vaguely hearing the word, but had never played it. "Is something wrong?" The psychologist asked him.

"My..er... he invited me to play golf."

The woman smiled widely. "That's a good thing! Fresh air, light exercise, a change of environment, you should go," she said, encouragingly.

"But my mum..." Warren protested. His mother had been as protective of him as a she-wolf with a newborn pup, rarely letting him out of her sight, let alone letting him go out where 'he could be hurt' again. He wasn't sure how she would cope when he went back to school.

"Don't worry," the woman smiled, "I'll speak to your mum."