I woke with a jolt from my sleep. My body drenched in sweat, and my lungs gasping for air. "Was that a dream?" I wondered, placing my hand over my chest, feeling my heart pounding.
As I looked around the room, trying to come to grips with all I had witnessed, the pain from being run through with a blade lingered in my mind. The feeling of being burned to cinders from inside and out haunted me. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself, and then rose from my bed, wiping away the sweat threatening to roll from my brow and into my eyes.
Taking in the familiar scene of my room, I reassured myself. The bed with its cotton sheets damp from my perspiration, the bookcase filled with anime and manga, the computer without any cracks, and the bird resting on my windowsill. "I am here... I am safe," I whispered to myself, taking a few more deep breaths before getting out of bed.
These nightmares were not new to me. Each time, I witnessed my own death, in a body not my own, at the hands of a nameless person. The memories of their monstrous pleasure in killing me were etched into my mind. The mere thought of that nameless man sent shivers down my spine. Shaking off the feeling, I made my way to the shower.
Entering the bathroom, my gaze fell upon the scale. "Do I dare check?" I hesitated, fearing that I had gained even more weight. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I stepped on the scale. Two hundred and fifty pounds. My heart sank as I realized it was my own fault. I glanced at the stack of pizza boxes in the kitchen, realizing the consequences of my indulgence. "How could I let this happen? I'm such a worthless slob!" I grumbled, rubbing my face in frustration before continuing toward the shower.
Standing under the soothing hot water, I let it wash away the grime of the morning's nightmare. After a few moments, I got out of the shower and wiped away the condensation from the mirror. I looked at my reflection—pudgy face, unshaven, dead eyes hidden beneath unkempt brown hair. I sighed, my hand sliding over my features, and then got dressed in baggy slacks and a loose-fitting t-shirt.
Heading into the kitchen, I threw the pizza boxes into the bin outside and checked the fridge. It was nearly empty—just a gallon of milk, a half-eaten apple, and some unmentionable green filth in the back corner. "Ew..." I recoiled in disgust, quickly closing the fridge as if I hadn't seen anything. I searched the cabinets and found a box of Admiral Berry Crunch, bringing a smile to my face.
However, my happiness was short-lived when I realized the box was empty. "Hmm..." I thought, considering my options. Looking at my mattress, I grabbed my card and checked my savings—$5,789. I sighed, not wanting to dip into my savings, but my growling stomach demanded attention. "Hush, I'd rather you just shrivel up and disappear," I muttered, but the persistent hunger won. Reluctantly, I withdrew $260 and transferred it to my card, then proceeded to drive to the supermarket.
The drive wasn't far, but my gaze occasionally drifted to the empty seat next to me, a twinge of something nagging at my senses. In the supermarket, I filled my basket with an assortment of unhealthy snacks, chips, candies, sodas, and instant meals. My stomach continued to yell at me, so I also grabbed a roll of white chocolate chip dough and placed it into my basket.
As I gallivanted around the store, it wasn't long before my basket was filled to the brim with chips, candies, sodas, and instant meals—a rather unhealthy collection of sustenance. I couldn't help but purr with anticipation as I gazed upon the items in my cart, my mouth watering with hunger. However, something caught my attention—a passing hymn of a dress. My eyes instinctively followed its path to a young woman about the same age as me. She wore a stunning white sundress with a thin, almost translucent skirt that grew more opaque closer to the waist. Her figure was curvy and graceful, and I found myself lost in thought, admiring her beauty from her veil like hair, and ocean blue eyes, to the pale flesh of arms she was stunning.
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It wasn't long before the girl noticed my constant gaze, and an uncomfortable look of disgust fell upon her features. Embarrassed and caught in the act, I quickly turned away and hurried to the end of the aisle towards the dairy section. My cheeks turned red with shame from having been caught looking.
At the dairy section, I grabbed a gallon of milk and looked down at my cart, then subsequently at my stomach. My gaze softened as I realized why the girl had given me that look. I looked up at the reflective surface of the mirror above me, seeing my pudgy face and prominent stomach. My hand lightly squeezed my abdomen as I sighed. Looking back at my reflection, I contemplated putting some of the food away, but my stomach growled again, reminding me of its persistent hunger. Chewing gingerly on my lower lip, I pushed my cart towards the cash register, whispering just under my breath, "I hate you," as my hand gripped tightly against the handle.
When I arrived at my deserted home, I immediately put away my groceries, meticulously organizing them into place. I warmed up a frozen pizza and scarfed it down with a soda, effectively silencing my once noisy stomach with the consumed junk food. Making myself a cup of caramel coffee with plenty of sugar, I retreated into my bedroom. Sitting at my computer, I settled in to watch the latest episode of "Salary Man reborn as an Over Powered Slime God." I watched the well-choreographed fight scene, cheering on the lead character in his struggle against the latest arc's villain.
After the episode ended, I leaned back in my chair with a smile before clicking on a series I had been putting off for binge-watching—"Im So Over The Moon In Love With You."
Romance series were one of my favorite genres, but I wasn't a big fan of the 'will they, won't they' trope, so shows like "Over the Moon In Love With You" were real treats.
Sipping my coffee, I paused the show to grab some popcorn, drowning it in white cheddar powder before locking myself back into my room to complete my binge. The day went on like this into the night, watching series after series that I had put off to keep up with the second seasons of shows I was already invested in.
Time slipped away from me, and when my weary eyes turned to the clock, it read 5:32 AM. Groggily, I turned to my window, where the light of the next morning peered through. I realized I had to be up in about six hours and would no doubt have to work overtime. My place of work was so short-staffed it was practically a miracle they were still up and running.
With a sigh, I resigned myself to bed, knowing all too well that I would probably have another nightmare. I crawled into the covers and under the sheets, staring at the wall beside me. I let my heavy eyes fall into darkness, allowing myself to be dragged into the depths of sleep.
"Vallamore! You're late!" said my lieutenant, jolting me awake.
Having woken up to the sound of my screeching clock at 1:45 PM this afternoon, I was well aware that I was late, and I had even told my boss just that. I grumbled beneath my breath as I passed the search station.
"This is the third week in a row you've been late after your weekend. Get it together!" my lieutenant reprimanded.
"Yes, sir," came my weary reply.
Of course, I kept sleeping in. The overtime was outrageous, but I would spend every waking moment of my free time doing what I loved. I knew I wasn't immortal, and the time I had on this earth was precious, especially considering that the majority of it was spent at my place of work.
Was all this really worth it? Surely nothingness couldn't be any worse than what I was currently experiencing. Shaking this thought away, I gave a habitual sigh and shuffled my way down to my post, where I spent the next sixteen hours babysitting children in adult bodies.
Overtime was expected, so it wasn't as though this had caught me off guard. By the time I got off work, the sun was peeking its head out of the horizon. My eyes burned, and my head felt light as I made my way over to my car, a 1999 white Dodge Avenger. The hour and a half long trip home awaited me.
And that was what the majority of my workweek and weekend consisted of.
Plopping down into the softness of my bed, I welcomed the darkness of closed lids that soothed the burning sensation they had endured during the car ride home. Groaning to myself, I whispered, "One more week till payday." A payday in which I had cashed out 234 hours of overtime. I would no doubt be able to raise my savings by at least one thousand dollars. I was so close... so remarkably close.
A trip I had been planning since high school was nearly within my grasp. "Just four more thousand," I whispered to myself. "And I can go."
Fate, however, would have other plans.