Mom was crying again. But this would be the last time I saw her like this; in the flesh.
“I’m just worried,” she said, “What if you don’t like it and then you can’t leave?” She took a moment from her rambling to blow her nose. I figured this would be a good time to voice my opinion.
“It’ll...be...okay,” I say. It came out slow, soft, and raspy. Having one lung will do that. “You can...see me...whenever.” We’d gone over this before, with the doctors and developers. There is a team that will keep an eye me and others like me. They even said they would record some events for her so she can watch me like a movie star.
“What about thieves, or murderers, and those demons? It doesn’t sound like a good place to live,” she said.
“There’s... moderators... and I... don’t... have to... fight... if I... don’t... want to,” I replied. I was ready to argue this until my death. Which was in about five minutes if the clock was right. “Please... mom.” She cried until it was time.
She blames herself. I’d say it’s not, but there is some fault she is responsible for. After divorcing my dad when I was 2, she rebounded with an asshole who took advantage of her (like all assholes do). For 9 years I put up with him blowing smoke in my face whenever I walked by, threatening to leave me outside for the night whenever I cried, and accusing me of gay. Not that I have anything against being gay, but for a pre-teen who is just starting to notice romantic and sexual attraction, it sort-of messes with you. It was an opportune moment when I found her crying, she told me he was cheating and I told her my issues. The next day he was picking up his junk from the front yard.
A few years later she met a nice nurse. His name's Dave and he’s been very good for her, and he help me get rid of an infected lung. But the damage was done and tenacity only got me few more years.
Cancer Sucks.
My dad was here as well, sulking in the corner. I hope he blames himself just as much if not more than my mom. He’s an absentee parent through and through. Hallmark cards and Target gift cards for birthdays, no attendance at sporting or school events, and he has never called to ask how was during multiple hospital visits and surgeries. I had to be the strong, tough, dependable man of the house. I cared more for my mom then he ever could. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a stranger come to pay respects at a funeral.
The doctor and a CC developer walked in. “It’s time,” one of them said. Mom grabbed my arm. Dave held her shoulders and tried to pull her off. For the next part they would upload my memories and personality to very, very large computer two nurses wheeled in. It would take a few hours and both the doctor and developer asked for visitors to leave. I heard my mom whispering something, but it was too soft to make out.
“Hey,” I said. I moved my arm that was being gripped and pointed to her heart. “I’ll... be... right... here.” 80s movies are great.
She nods and slowly releases my arm, letting Dave guide her out. He gives me ‘thank you, bye’ nod, and I grunt. My dad does the same but I moan instead of grunt. The nuance is important and I think he got it.
“You remember what we said would happen next? I can tell you again if you want,” the doctor says.
I shake my head, “Beam me up.” He smiles.
I spare you the technical aspect he was referring to. Mainly because I forgot, but also because it’s confusing, impossible, and I was already on board when he said ‘live another life in a game.’ During the set up I had time to reflect. Not on my life, because that’s clearly over. No, I’m thinking about what I should do first. Maybe run around, jump up, or get down. Maybe there’s a priestess I can proclaim my love for, and then when I defeat the Demon King, we get married and have ten kids. Although I am immortal for the foreseeable future, so maybe not.
“Final steps, Julius, you still with me?” that sounded different from the doctor, so probably the developer.
“Ready,” I respond.
As he counts down from 10 my heart quickens. There’s also a bit of pain on my nape and I think I should have paid attention to those technical words. “3... 2... 1.” I feel a jolt and then I black out.
[2]
There’s a throbbing pain in my head. I open my eyes slowly, to grow accustomed to the light of day. My vision clears and I see clouds amidst a blue sky. My hands feel what’s beneath me: soft, spongy, smooth. My head turns feeling the same. Dying on a bed and waking up on a new one; probably not a coincidence but maybe a little distasteful.
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“Julius, how’re you doin’?” a voice says. I sit up looking for the voice (the developer’s), only seeing green grass stretching towards the horizon.
“Okay?” I reply.
“Good, good. Is your body alright? We tried to give you an average weight and muscle of a normal teenager based on your age and height.”
I slowly get off the bed, noting no pain or discomfort. I can’t remember the last time I could move like this. Feeling the grass betwixt my toes is sublime. I’m starting to tear up. “It’s good,” I reply.
“Okay then. Before we send you on your way, we’re gonna go over some game information while you test out that body. I recommend stretches and a light jog.” I nod, sit on the grass, and start stretching.
“Lookin’ good. Okay, first topic is the space you are currently in. This is your log out space, or if you prefer: your Home. If you ever want to talk to your parents, watch a movie, or browse the internet, this is the place for that. It is customizable, but there are some limitations. Since you are under 18 there is a child-lock on. Which means: no Pleasure Dome for you. Sorry, kid, mom’s orders. There are also some aspects that require money, like new movies in theaters or just released. This also means no illegal or disingenuous sites. But the good news is for the next year we’re going to foot the bill. You’re helping us out a lot with this and we want to do right by you. Make sense so far?"
I nod, finish my stretches, and start jogging in a circle around my bed.
“Good. Next, we have game info. You probably already know this but to summarize: There are no stats, but there are skills, and then rarity is a thing. Although there’s no ‘strength’ or ‘dexterity’ there is gear that provides buffs and resistances. You can learn any skill but it’s difficult unless you have a relevant class or a trainer. Skill ranks as followed: beginner, novice, apprentice, adept, elite, expert, veteran, master, grand-master, and transcendent. Item ranks are: trash, common, uncommon, superior, rare, epic, mythic, legendary, ancient, and you guessed it: transcendent. There are rarities for classes, but they just explain the difficulty of obtaining the class and how many individuals have it on the server. Also, you can only have one combat class and two profession classes active at any given time. The rest will be explained in-game. Why don’t you rest while I get your parents for the video call? After that we can get you in the game, savy?”
What are you, a pirate?
I nod. I walk back to my bed, breathing heavily, and notice the exertion my muscles went through. It’s pain, but the good kind, not the “laying down 24/7 waiting to die” kind.
A 24-inch screen appears hovering in front of me. The image is black-and-white static, but quickly changes to the image of the developer.
“How’s it lookin’, Julius?” he asks, “You hearing me ok?”
“Loud and clear, chief,” I reply.
“Solid copy. Here you are, ma’am.”
The image turns and my mother appears.
“Oh, Juli, I can see you. Can you see me? Are you okay? Why are you sweating?”
Not even death can rid me of that nickname. “Everything’s okay, mom. I was jogging.”
“You shouldn’t be doing such strenuous exercise while you’ve just got up. You could cramp, or break something, or... or something.”
“It’s fine, mom. I have a fake body. Nothing’s permanent here.”
“Fake and real are subjective,” the developer says.
“You still shouldn’t be straining yourself,” my mom says.
“I can do whatever I want now. Run, cartwheel, base jump off a mountain; I figure I can get to be as flexible as gymnast. That guy did mention a Pleasure Dome.”
“HE WHAT?!!!” “Ah, no, wait...”
Mom walked away from the screen, cornering the developer. I was snickering.
“You just had to rile her up, didn’t ya, Jules,” Dave said while stepping into frame.
“Of course. What kind of son could I be, if I couldn’t give my mother a scare or two?”
We smiled, but it quickly got awkward. He, no doubt, wanted to give me some fatherly advice, but also knew I neither wanted or needed it. My own father had certainly left the hospital by now.
Mom quickly got back into frame. “You’ll call, yes?”
“There’s so many things to do, mom. I might forget.”
“There is a reminder feature,” the dev said.
Dammit, dev guy. I probably shouldn’t have sicced my mom on him.
“Every night,” my mom said.
“Every weekend,” I said.
“No, every night.”
“Every other weekend.”
“Every night, Juli, I mean it.”
“At least once a month.”
“Julius Wilbur Turner, I will find a way to ground you.”
“I’m just joking, mom. I promise to talk when I’m able, but there’s a whole new world out there. So many wonderous sights to see.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
A lull naturally came about. Things felt like they needed said, but this wasn’t goodbye. It was like I was moving and would be able to call at any time. But I knew, and she knew, that we could never hug again. Imagine never being able to hug your mother again for the rest of your life.
She started tearing up, and so did I. Dave put a hand on her shoulder. It was now or never.
“I love you, mom.”
“I love you, too, Juli. Make sure to take baths, and brush your teeth, and don’t go into poor neighborhoods alone.”
“Okay, mom.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The dev turned off the monitor. Good guy, that developer. I always liked him.
“Alright, Julius, if can just lie down on the bed I’ll put you to sleep, and when we get back to headquarters, I’ll get you in the game.”
“Thank you.”
“Good luck, have fun.”