Short stories!

"This is some 'Rick and Morty' shit"

John's eyes widen as he wakes up. He wasn't in his house, but recognized the childlike room he was in. The bedsheets He was in was from stupid band he used to like, and posters of bands, pictures of friends and a whiteboard decorated his walls. He had a desk in the corner which was covered in work and books with a computer opened to a google doc.

The last thing John remembers before he woke up was entering a lab with his childhood friend. He remembers he entered the lab wishing he wasn't so addicted to cigarettes, since he had an urge to step out for a smoke, but he doesn't remember why he walked into the lab in the first place.

Once the door opened, He instantly remembered where he was. His father steps into the room, a cup of coffee in his tired hands, "Kid, You know you're gonna be late, right? I know you stayed up late but class waits for no man,"

John looks at his father with wide eyes. His father hasn't properly talked to him since he was a kid. He opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again, "uh...How...old am I?" John asks slowly, his voice sounding more pubescent and higher pitched than its usual deep voice.

His father looks taken aback, before shaking his head slightly, "You're seventeen, Johnson. Did you forget?" His father takes a sip of his coffee as John lightly shakes his head and gets up from his bed.

"Nah Nah it's...it's fine. I'm getting ready," John sighs, watching his father nod and leave the room. John took notice of how easy it was for him to get out of bed; No aching legs, no headache, no stumbling- He just got up. He didn't feel uncomfortable once he stepped out of bed, He didn't feel instantly out of place- He just got up.

By instinct, his head ticks to his nightstand that used to sit by his bed. It wasn't there, so he turned to the desk. There were no pill bottles, no medication- just work.

Last time John checked, which was before he entered the lab, He had to take medication to calm his depression and anxiety. He can feel his anxiety, but he didn't feel numb at all. He felt fine. Actually, he felt kind of happy.

He made a mental note to remember this, since he hasn't felt happy in years.

"John! Luke is coming in!" A female voice shouts. That...couldn't be his mother, right? Wasn't she dead? Died in a car crash, John recalls.
He doesn't have time to think, though, since his childhood friend, Luke, bursts into his room and slammed the door behind him.

"I don't...know why I'm a kid. You are too, right?" Luke asks, worry and fear all over his face. Luke seemed disheveled, but he was also young.

John nods, "Y-Yeah. This is...What happened?" John asks, sitting on the edge of his bed. He combed his hands through his hair. That's when he noticed his wrists. His unscarred wrists; No scars from him nervously digging his nails into his arm or clawing at the skin. He also didn't feel the urge to.

It only took five minutes for John to break down. Two for Luke. It took Luke ten minutes to pull himself together and sit next to John on his bed, and patiently wait for John to calm down.

"Ignoring our current problems, I think this has something to do with the lab," Luke starts, "I remember walking in and thinking about how expensive it looks, but then my memory just kind of...fades with the next step I took."

John nods, "It's the same for me, except I was wishing that I didn't feel the need to smoke. Regretting my life choices agai-"

Luke's eyes go wide, looking up at the high corner of John's room, "What...the fuck is that?" He asks slowly.

"What's wh-" John asked, before noticing it. It was a timer in the top right corner of John's room, but it held the current time, according to John's alarm clock. It reads; 8:09
< Reset >
Goal: Refuse Cigarette