I woke up because my brain was utterly convinced that I was falling down. I opened my eyes to prove my stupid brain wrong, and saw total and complete darkness. Was the electricity to my building cut? Stupid thunderstorms and other life-and-property-threatening hazards to normal people living normal lives. I just got home for the weekend too… Why am I not aching and paining from every single inch of my body like the twenty two year old senior citizen that I am? More than that, why is my brain still convinced that I am falling down?
Hmmm… maybe I should run a checklist of what a person feels when they are falling down? Sounds boring enough to put me right back to sleep. Let’s do it!
Can I feel the resistance offered by the wind, that I undoubtedly must feel if I were to be, say, falling down in a pitch-black void?
Nope, no wind resistance can be felt, so either I am falling through a void with no air for over thirty seconds, or my brain is a fool.
Past experiences make me lean towards the second option.
Alright, what else would a person falling down feel? The sound of the wind rushing past their ears? Nope, can’t feel that.
Dear Mr. My Brain, you are being uncharacteristically stubborn. Why in the name of my last exotically prepared dish from ingredients that were most certainly not in their best-before time period, are you so utterly set on convincing me that I am dropping down in space like a Looney Tunes character who looked down after running themselves off a cliff?
Speaking of, am I suffering from sleep paralysis? Is this a weird as heck dream? Makes more sense than me arbitrarily falling down a pitch-black void for over a minute.
What were the classic methods of checking if a person is dreaming? I should check if I can read! Yep, that is a bit of info that will totally help me out when I am in a pitch-black void while suffering from sleep paralysis.
Hmmm, what other information… information… dreams… memories! That’s right! Memories are a way to alter waking dreams into more pleasant ones.
Now, pleasant memories, come to me posthaste! I’m certain I got you in spades, after all, one does not become a witty, charismatic, and memorable person such as I with only bad memories.
…
(Several attempts at remembering good memories later)
Oh come the hell (I distinctly remember what happens to people who cuss, I ain’t falling down that rabbit hole) on!!
Maybe I should try to remember from the beginning? Brain, help me out here. Start from the top, please.
Mr. Brain- In the beginning, there was an explosion, and the universe as we know it came into being, they say that the explosion was -
Hold it right there you useless troubleshooting-required organ I cannot live without! Not that far back!!! Go back far enough that I can remember some good memories. Start with who I am!
Mr. Exposition Dump Brain- Alrighty mate, if that is what you want. So one day two human beings loved each other very much and decided that they wanted a child. So they got together one night, and it was a lovely night, with scented candles, rose petals on the bed, rings adorning the fourth fingers of their right hands, the man carrying in the woman with a princess carry onto the bed, where he too leaned in towards her to-
As my mind devolved further and further into that particular rabbit hole, I felt my surroundings change a tad, and I could smell a bit of rosiness in the air. In fact, it could be said that I was being thrust into a roman- BY ALL THAT IS GOOD IN THIS WORLD, STOP THINKING!
FAST FORWARD!!!! AT LEAST TILL YOU ‘REMEMBER’ ACTUAL MEMORIES AND NOT WHATEVER THE LAST TWO PARAGRAPHS WERE!!
Mr. Brain- tch, fine. In some hospital somewhere in some country somewhere, on some time of day in some month of some year- I think I could smell some vague chemical smell, like in some hospital… But I want an interesting dream, not this failed sitcom routine.
I sighed at my brain. Why did I decide to give my subconscious a voice again? Oh yeah, I didn’t. I’m in a dream. My subconscious decided to spawn a voice for itself, like a good subconscious, and pester me to high heavens. And the voice apparently decided how my surroundings would be like.
Mr. Brain sighed at me right back. He seemed fed up with me for some reason. Why on Earth is a personality I created for no reason five minutes ago have more personality than me? Don’t answer that. I think I won’t like the answer. Mr. Brain, give me an overview of my life.
“Born on a cruise ship while your mom and pops were on vacation, a solid week earlier than expected, you are a man with no nationality! And also a free lifetime pass to that one particular cruise ship, but whatever. You were christened in the Land of the Free a couple days later as Henry Smith Jr, a name as boring as your personality. You grew up kinda normal, but you were weird from the get-go, never seeing stuff the same as anyone else, having greater-than-average intellect but you also had a lesser-than-the-average-american-teen capacity for actually sitting in one spot and listening to people. You found it too boring. That was, at least, till the day your parents decided to go on a fishing trip in the middle of a fucking (hey, you swore not to swear, I didn’t) typhoon.
You were, if you recall correctly, about twelve at the time.
To avoid the crappy government, you decided to find and convince a relative to adopt you. You had a surprisingly short list to search from.
You found an obscure grand-uncle who lived relatively close by and pulled your first ever deal. You put on a mask for the very first time. It was an extremely shoddy mask, to be fair, and only stayed for about as long as it took for you to hit the hay post-negotiations. You soon lost all motivation for schooling, got enough grades to eke by, and got n=kmore interested in your ‘masks’. By the time you got to community college, you had enough skill to change your entire past within seconds. Noone ever noticed because you… are boring as hell dude… work on that. You decided, for some godforsaken reason, that comedy is an excellent way to utilise your talents. For some even more godforsaken reason, you were right. You actually earned enough to get out of just performing in clubs to actually getting on shows and movies. As the token crazy white guy. Then, just as your career was about five minutes away from launching, you decided to take a nap in your travel bus. And I decided to throw you into this weird dream. We dandy?”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
I nodded internally. A perfect explanation of my life, except for the weird ‘mask’ bit. Everyone puts up masks. What makes me so different?
Mr. Brain- well, you-
Do not answer that. What good memories do I have? Being a comedian was one of the most tedious things I ever had to experience. That guise was too perfect to decide to go back to “normal”.
Why am I not up yet? I killed so much time here already. What the hell, tour manager, you ought to wake me up. I distinctly remember that it was just gonna be a five-minute trip.
Why indeed. How interesting. You are not at all how I expected you to be. How are you?
What? Who said that? And how do you manage to have such a naturally whiney voice? What did I do to make you like that?
What? No, I am not-
Are you that weird blue firefly thing at the edge of my vision?
…
You are, aren’t you?
Well, this is certainly a first.
Did I use my memories of Mr. Robert, that prick of a chemistry teach I had? You sound quite similar… No, his voice was like someone using their nails against a chalkboard. Yours sounds different, more pleasant, almost feminine. But still annoying, nonetheless.Just shut up for a moment and listen for a second here-
Hmm, maybe like this? Hwello thwere, mine friend! What business might you have with this great entertainer? Wow, this one is annoying. But not the right kind of annoying. Begone. (Ahhhhhhhh nooooo, I had so many dreams…) I am missing something, but what? I should just ask.
“Mask that likes to be a creepy blue light at the edge of my vision, what’s your origin? When did I make you?”
That’s it! I give up. You. Ex-human. You will become the maintainer of peace in the world of my creation. Your body will go through an acclimatisation process now. This might hurt a little.
Also, be aware that the body you have will be the creation of your own psyche.
I had little-to-no influence on what the result would look like.
What is the cutest little girl you can think of? What is your ideal type of girl?
What kind of question is that? My ideal type of woman? It is the perfectly balanced type! I got no preference other than that. It all depends on her personality for everything else. I mean, my type? That is one heck of a question to ask on a first date, lady. I mean, I’ll tell ya for certain. But certainly bold of - oh shut the hell up.
Man, you are messed up in sooooo many levels. What even is your name? Do you even remember your childhood? Why do you have… seven? Nine different identities, all of which claiming to be the original? Damn it. This is a huge favour I’m doing you, alright? I’ll fix you right up. But you will be a blank slate, kind of. Never did this before. Well when better to do the stuff previously deemed impossible then now, eh? Who said that tomorrow is today? Am I not remembering right? Whatever, I’m rambling. Hey, weird person. You won’t have this problem with your head when you reach your destination.
What destination? Hey! Oye! Tell me the hell you mean by that you blue firefly! The hell do- A strong buzzing sound rang out, and the voice never spoke again. What… happened? Mark disappeared? Hey! I liked Mark! I thought we all agreed that I am in charge till wer wake up?!!
I’m sorry, but you are out of time. I truly hope that you enjoy your life, Keeper of the Key. Your mind will be healed. You will receive a clear method to walk your own path, without your meaningless burdens. I hope that you are still around when the world becomes sane. I hope you enjoy it. Also, don’t mind this bit, but what is your ideal type?
What? Didn’t you already ask me that?
…
Hey! Answer me! Where are we? Who am I? What is my name?
Suddenly, my body felt hot, like someone was pouring oil all over my muscles, but the oil was soooo comfortable.
Suddenly, while I was still revelling in the sensations that my subconscious decided to give me, I felt a wrenching sensation in my gut, and the darkness that had been surrounding me gave way to blue ocean beneath, and white sky going forever to the horizon
Wait.
The ‘white sky’ was a sea of clouds. The blue ocean was the endless skies. Also, for some reason, I could hear something being spoken to me. It felt like someone using Siri to speak to me, with a weird mix of British and some accent I am sure I heard before but can’t really place.
[Welcome to Anajaan Samudr- Over The Edge of The World. You are the first sentient being to visit this location.]
[You are currently fifteen thousand metres above the sea.]
Is that bad? It sounds bad. Should I know how bad that is? How fucked am I?
[Error- Human unable to understand basic established length measures used in home world. Re-attempting after adjusting for stupidity]
Well, that is certainly encouraging. I have a feeling I should be insulted by it, but seeing as I currently have no other option, insult away!
[You are currently fourteen thousand nine hundred and ninety metres or forty nine thousand one hundred and seventy nine feet above the sea.]
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. I’m screwed.
[You have received the title ‘One who leaped off the Edge of The World’ for the feat- first to discover the seas of the unknown. At least, the first who did so mostly voluntarily.]
What? When did that happen? Did the voice in my ear speak snark to me? Oye!
[You have received the title ‘Man Of Steel’, for the feat of staying conscious through a time of great stress and pain.]
Wait.
Pain? What pain?
Then my body remembered that flying through the air at near-mach speeds is not really advisable for the unprotected human flesh. It felt like someone was slashing at me with several knives all over my body as I fell down the literal edge of the world according to the mysterious voice. My last moments in this life were filled with self-doubts and pain, and a tiny bit of adrenaline-fueled joy, much like my whole life. My life ended on a high note. I could not have possibly asked for more.
But then, my story began.
I have yet to be named. My legend has yet to be written. My epics have been sung in nary a bar nor heard by but a single man drowning in their ale. My story will start like all awesome ones do.
On a deserted island over the edge of the world, in an unknown sea where all I got on my side is a blue firefly and a book which I cannot read. Oh, and an unlimited food and water supply and, apparently, unlimited time. Jumping over the edge of the world and falling down half a mesosphere with no parachute does wonders for the skin, apparently.
It also apparently has a tendency to SHRINK ME AND TURN ME INTO A FEMALE KID?!!!!!
I was perfectly happy-
I was happy-
I was used to being an adult dude! Why did I need to change?
Well, this was me, and good to hear from you all. IdontgotanameyetsoImsigningitthisway. Out.
P.S- I am mostly sure that the weird voice is the weird blue firefly, but I just cant seem to pin it on him properly.
P.P.S- getting marooned on an island that looks like heaven, alone? Best day of my life, hands down, no question about it. Getting stuck with a mysterious voice in exchange?
Eh. No comment.