It was 7:57am, the
curtains of the cave began to separate, and soon a small gleam of sunlight
dawned into the dark abode. He rummaged underneath the blanket, forcing his
eyelids together before raising his bedsheets over his head. It was 7:58am, and
soon the curtains began to separate even further– revealing the pearlescent
sun, urging him to wake up. It was 7:59am, and the pearl sun shone violently brighter.
He hugged his bedsheet, before it was vacuumed into the metal slots at the foot
of his bed.
The iridescent
animation fluttered itself into his bedroom, its opalescent and bright pixel
silhouette reminded him of where he was today. “Papa!” it screeched, “Mama is
making breakfast in the kitchen!” He covered his face, groaning before shooing the
pixel girl from the bedroom. The room temperature dropped significantly,
sending chilly waves throughout his body – helping him to get up. He resisted,
and soon the time was 8:01am before he wriggled himself upwards. The man
reluctantly manoeuvred himself into the kitchen from his bed. A tall young man
with a head full of rich hair stared at him from the bedroom mirror. The man’s
eyes widen, standing aback and yelling, “Who are you! Go away!” in a croaky
voice. The defined features of the man moved as he moved, and it wasn’t long
until he realised it was his reflection.
The atmosphere
cooed with a heavily 8-bit version of ‘Endothoven’. The ambience of the sound
made the kitchen feel like a dream holiday, the sunshine emitted so gently like
a baby duck caressing your face, he could pretend to feel the warmth. His
cheeks dimpled, and his eyes twinkled – he wanted to stay in this dream
forever. His smile soon dropped, his eyes burrowed his covered his mouth,
because he knew that’s what the Enderhouse wanted him to do – to stay.
Before him was a
cyan-haired woman with soft features, who he had never seen before. The
unrecognisable violet eyes, her soft grey lips soon changed to a deep burgundy
and then to a dusty mauve.
“I’m making some
fruit and vegetables – the absolute golden kind!” she chirped, “Our HP and hunger will replenish oh so
generously!” He heaved and sighed, staring at the once familiar woman with his
utmost sympathy. He opened the fridge door, only to see rows of imperishable golden
plants visibly gleaming in uniform. He misses the taste of butterscotch and the
chewy texture of sirloin between his teeth.
“Don’t you miss
cooking? The warmth of fire, and the smell of sautéed vegetables
simmering?”
“Someone’s a bit
grumpy this morning!” she said condescending amusingly, “Of course not darling!
Here in the Ender everything is much much
better” she turned her head towards his, narrowed her eyes “You should join us
forever darling!”
“You’re not happy
here – you’re only happy because of that” he pointed towards the little girl’s
silhouette as it continued to illuminate the house. His wife shone her pearly
teeth, watching the pastel haired animation frolic around the house. He
continued to watch the digitalised young girl, yelling around and acting like a
real girl.
“The Ender is a
permanent dreamscape designed to grant every wish you’ve ever had” she recited
the Ender’s mantra in the chirpiest voice. She didn’t say anything, but he
understood what she meant.
“I’m sorry”
“You know she
makes me truly happy, even if you don’t think she’s real, this is my dream”
He closed his eyes
gently, focusing on the digitalised images in his mind.
[134 hours]
To fully
experience the world of Ender – please disconnect from the real world before
your 300 hour trial ends! Or you are unable to return once again!
[Disconnect]
[Return]
-
The hum of the
curtains filled the dead quietness of the house, he glanced at the ceiling of
his bedroom only to see the flaking and peeling of paint. The stench of dust
was overpowering, quickly covering his face and walked out of the room. The
photographs on the refrigerator were fading, the ends of it curling upwards all
crackled and scratched. He smoothed the photo on the refrigerator, recognising
a familiar black-haired woman with fair skin – smiling softly in the photo
while holding unworn little shoes. He touched the photo, and tears soon welled
up and fell down his wrinkly face.
The stove made a
ticking sound, and the raw energy from the crimson flame reminded him of the
power and eeriness of unpredictability as from the Great Fire of London. There
was no milk, no eggs. He felt defeated, you can’t purchase eggs and milk from a
farmer who too has left.
His small frail
body would’ve made a Montague’s velvet doublet looked like a giant coat. He
plucked a dusty coat from the coat-rack, and the weight of the coat soon buried
him.
The rose-lit
clouds reminded him that skies are painted with unnumbered sparks. It reminded
him of the Ender, but here it was so rare – and much more beautiful. The hue of
the sky was much more muted, less vibrant, but nevertheless he appreciated the
capacity of how this world tried to be beautiful, despite its limitations.
He began to limp,
before normally walking down the empty streets lined with empty houses. The
flowers have wilted, and the rain eroded the paint from the houses and the
mailboxes. He smiled, as much rain wears the marble. He turned around, and
focused on the dying plants, the rust, the flaking paint from the houses, the
muted sky and clouds, as he soon enough walked home. He hears the gush of wind sway as it hits
the leaves on his trees, the rose-coloured sky as it meets it bed time.
The reflection
from his bedroom window reminded him of the gentle wrinkles he’d have, the
unkempt man he would’ve been. He caressed his wrinkled face, “To be or not to
be” he thought, before closing his eyes.
-
His eyes were
closed, but he could still hear the sound of rain hitting the patio of his
house. The only source of light was emitted from the window in the room, the
white drapes flowed slightly.
He missed the
sound of rain. He imagined the thunder rumbling, the lighting spitting fire and
the rain spraying. The rain grew heavier, he imagined the petunias in the front
garden becoming sprawled and scattered. He belonged, a foolish thing from the
other world didn’t matter, because it rains and it will rain every day in this
world.
“Isn’t it
amazing?” she said, glancing at him with her rose eyes and lilac hair, “I
forgot what rain was like, no wonder why you always want to return to the other
world.”
- 05:35
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