The Acceptance Stage

Ugh. What am I laying on?

I wiggled around on this brick for what felt like hours and finally decided that I should fix whatever was going on with my pillow and blanket.

It didn't take long to figure out what the problem was. There was nothing there. I was laying on a bare bed as cold as I could possibly be. I knew it was winter, but it was the end of the season and we had heat.

My senses were coming back to me, and I realized while I was looking on the floor for anything to cover me, that my room felt bigger than usual. I looked up to where my computer should have been. All that stared back at me was a wall. Then I saw the rest of the room.

From where I sat on this “bed” in a corner, a kitchenette lined the wall across from me. The doors of the ugliest tan cabinets you ever saw were hanging on by a screw, literally. A table with one chair sat by the one window in the whole – no, I refuse to call this a house. One door was situated to my right, and I could guess that the entrance was behind the corner next to it. Basically, a big rectangle.

I didn't know where I was but this must have still been a dream. So, I did the logical thing and lay back down.

As I pressed my hands together to form a comfortable pillow on my cinder block, my hand brushed against something cold and small hooked onto my ear.

I jumped up.

“No.”

I looked around this pitiful excuse of a home.

“That was all a dream. I am dreaming,” I whispered as a mantra, hoping that this scene would slowly morph into darkness so I could wake up in my own bed. "I can't really be trapped here."

My mind raced back to my experience in the darkness. The door next to me had to be a bathroom, and I was right.

The state of it was worse than I thought it would be. Everything was cast in a sickly yellow glow after I flicked the light switch on. There was a dripping noise coming from the toilet. The tub-shower combo was missing a curtain and its rod had fallen. It looked so grimy that I promised myself I would burn it down before I ever washed up in it while it looked like that.

I tiptoed over the strange stains on the floor to get to the cracked mirror so that I could look at myself. I looked the same.

Except for the sparkling hair!

My brown eyes were the same.

My brown skin was the same.

I, somehow, even woke up in this world with the same pj's on.

But this hair was different. This hair, that I ruffled to no end trying to rid myself of the mysterious glitter.

I emerged from the bathroom after my short-lived despair.

So, my life started a little rough. Lots of other people started with less, right? I can make $5 million.

Sprawled on the table was a busted looking smart phone and several envelopes. I hung my head seeing the one sitting on top. PAST DUE was printed as big as the utility company could stamp it.

I opened the refrigerator door to see what there was to eat before it fell off.

“Stupid dice!” I yelled. I almost lost a toe and there was nothing even in the fridge. How was I supposed to be optimistic when this game was out to get me?

All that was left for me to try was the controls. What was I supposed to do again?

I touched the ear cuff with two fingers. A transparent, multicolored computer window the size of a poster board popped up out of nowhere.

On the window in front of me I saw my name beside a picture of myself; it was my Profile. My stats, hunger, health, and strength –all of which were relatively low – were displayed right below that. There were several tabs: Résumé, Map, Social Network, and Objectives.

Under Résumé were my skills, careers, and achievements; I had none of those. Next, there was a map of this world.

Social Network allowed me to see players online and my relationship to them. I could see those same four names I saw before I got here and I had no relationship with them.

If I was transported here, what did that mean?

Whatever.

I tapped the center of my chest. A new screen replaced the other.

The options on the Main Menu were Resume Game, Save and End Session, and Help.

Obviously I tried to end the session. It made this weird noise every time I pressed the option.

Thump. Thump, thump.

That wasn't working. So I clicked Help.

Life is unpredictable and therefore has no rules but this one has controls.

“Ooh no.” I swiped my hand repeatedly, “I already read that crap.” I swiped through it all without reading one word.

I tried one last thing. I tapped my chest two times for the shortcut.

Of course nothing happened.

“It's okay,” I said trying to pump myself up again, “you've been a barista, a groomer. You made a killing as a designer! Nothing is any different from before. Let's do this!”

I picked up the phone and started my job search. Whenever I clicked on a job post it enlarged like the Profile and Main Menu had. But it didn't matter which one or how many I clicked on because I needed experience for essentially all of them.

“So...just like real life, huh?”

But this wouldn't get me down either. I had other ways of making money.

I guess it's time to go out to save some cats and catch some thieves!