Prior to the sudden change, I still had a life. Sure, no dragons, no ogres, no queens. I mean within books, of course they existed. We've always had a strong imagination. A thirst for the impossible possibilities if you will. But we all know where you're sent if one let their imaginations go too far. Such a cold, colorless place that is.

I too was another cog in the system. An otherwise ordinary writer that lived paycheck to paycheck through other jobs of odds and ends. In my free time, I built and destroyed worlds. My words could single handedly safe the day of an imaginary village or doom the protagonist to a depressing single life... but at the end of the day, in such a saturated career path, my ordinary words and cliche plots of happy endings fell short to be a hit writer. Albeit all that, I enjoyed every single moment. I didn't have everything, really far from it, but I could entertain myself. Not just through writing but with the simple fact that I was never bored did I ever think of ending my life.

In my writing, the livelihood of characters that lived within me were at my very mercy as they were make belief. And I suppose I found comfort in this. None of it was supposed to be real. It can't be real. What I've seen MUST have been the trick of the mind. Fatigue was always that clingy friend that had no sense of boundary. We all know what that does to the mind. I refuse to believe any of this. I refuse to believe something that could very well destroy the common sense I built my sense of self on. I will go insane. Am I sane?

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Sure, I didn't choose this lifestyle. I was far from content. Far. I mean I got by well enough, but I always dreamed of more. One can't really have enough of happiness... greed makes me human! But never did I expect some lousy ass object to steal the one comfort I had keeping me going in this life: predictability. I didn't know this at the time, but I found comfort in the simple predictable things I had in life: the smell of burnt coffee int he mornings, the whiff of perfume I'd smell when the beautiful waitress walked by... it was all something I looked forward to without even realizing it. Fuck, a predictable day! When was the last time... I. I don't know. I miss the time I was an ordinary person. But unfortunately, my clock is broken... and I have received an immortal life. And before you say you'd celebrate; I have lost everything else.