October 24, 1929, Black Thursday
The sun was shining, spreading its irritable rays everywhere.
"Damn, it sucks not being able to blame someone else", a young man yells lividly, kicking a nearby trash can to frighten the nearby pedestrians.
The pedestrians avoid him, and some even sympathize with him. It's a bad day for everyone.
One kick, two kicks, three kicks. The sound of light metal clamping is satisfying to his ears, and the man gradually feels more jittery and confident. The silver trash can slightly bends.
Nine kicks, ten kicks. The kicking finally stops as the young man gradually realizes that he isn't doing anything useful.
At this time, any other man would feel only regret for blundering their money, but not this man. As a stock broker, Timmothy DeMarco had a very direct relationship to the stock market crashing. He himself lent out as much as $70,000 to investors and contributed to the bursting of the bubble.
Of course, as a man born poor, seeking blame just means one thing: complaining and seeking compensation.
"F*ck, why involve me?", Timmothy yells hypocritically and egotistically to a group of random people.
I'm in a $20,000 debt. I would rather die than pay it off.
b..but I don't want my life to mean nothing.
Timmothy continues to stare blankly at the road, making others subconsciously avoid him.
I'll just commit suicide in the most jarring way possible. Maybe someone would donate to my mother out of pity.
After deciding on committing suicide, Timmothy calls a taxi and rides to his own apartment nearby. He grabs the necessary materials. After locking the familiar and slightly polished wooden door, he sits at a table and starts to write.
"Dear mother,
I've never loved you, but as a gentleman I should at least repay you for being an burden, and a very hungry one at that. I haven't paid my debt yet but I'm giving you the rest of my money; I hope you know what that means. I know you love our home, but please consider moving to Spain or England to escape debt collectors. If you still love me at all try getting my sister a pair of new shoes, I remember her bugging me the last time I visited"
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
After finishing, Timmothy realizes that the paper he's written on had been doused in tears, making it hard to read.
"F*ck, ruined the vibe", Timmothy says to himself coldly.
He crumbles the paper and starts to write again.
. . .
Not trusting anyone to do the job, Timmothy walks to the post office himself.
The sky is darkening, and the originally brunette concrete roads start to dim.
Pale and colorless, Timmothy hurriedly stuffed his bulging envelope into a murky mailbox and see it getting engulfed by an unfathomable darkness.
Timmothy walks off hurriedly, his eyes never leaving the ground.
The originally impressive nightline seems nothing but lackluster now.
Subconsciously, he walks to a building that has always somewhat amazed him.
It was a bastardized version of Rennaissance architecture, a tower that stood upon an originally oblivious rectangle. Yet precisely because of this box could it overshadow all buildings around it by sheer size.
It's name? "Singer Building".
Walking in, a well dressed man in a suit tie shouts assertively "Sir, you can't be in here. "
Timmothy ignores him.
When he starts to chase Timmothy, Timmothy suddenly pulls out a gun and shoots towards the ground without hesitation.
Then, ignoring the shrapnel and concrete that grazed his legs, he continues climbing the tower. Upon reaching the top, he stares at the city, absorbing the weird mixture of self-possession and insignificance. Then, like a fish in water, he starts to sing,"
Do du du Daa dee da due,
Do de Due!
Do Due,
Do du Due Daa Dee Due Daa,
Daa Dee Due Daa Dee Due due.
"
Upon completion, the world is entirely silent. The cars have all stopped moving and everyone except for him felt insignificant, as if they had seen their worst fears.
One step, two steps,... The song he sung made him feel extremely confident. Three steps, four steps, free fall.
But just as Timmothy thought he was going to finally fall, he saw an inviolable light rushing towards him. Shocked beyond words, he shouts "Jesus", and as he loses consciousness, he hears a squeaky voice say jokingly "Among us stock brokers this is quite a considerate move. Don' look at me like that, I've got no way no money for a taxi ride"
. . .
And just like that, Timmothy was reincarnated as an amogi inside a bubble.
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According to unofficial official amogus lore, bubbles are where amogi are born
Singer Building is an actual building according to wikipedia, having the world record for tallest building from 1908 to 1909. It was demolished in 1969 to make way for newer buildings
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Hey guys, author here. I'm a total newbie at writing and I wanna know your opinions on my work. I copied a lot from other works. For example, my second sentence copied the vibe of the funeral scene in the early chapters of "Mages are too OP" and you could probably guess where the inner monologue was copied from. Personally, I felt that my first chapter deviated too much from among us and wrote a lot about our MC even though his past experiences aren't (might not be) relevant to the rest of the story. Pls tell me a general direction to improve or any specific sentence or paragraph I should remove.