A white ceiling. I stare at it. Staring at it, I feel nothing, I am nothing, and I feel nothing.
I am in a very dark period of my life, having no idea what I want, if anything.
It’s not sadness I feel, but numbness, which at times derails into madness.
I hate everyone, but more than everyone, I hate myself. I can’t be like others.
They impose morals and principles and wishes and aspirations and live by them.
Some find hope in fairytales, some in papers, some in hormones, whereas some reject the idea of hope altogether and shut their eyes, living in momentary bliss. But I hope.
I hope to hope. I hope to find my hope. So I try every day, to escape nihility.
Hence there are few things in life I haven’t tried, and I’m only eighteen.
From extreme sports to academics, from drugs to dates, from mundane hobbies to questionable activities, from everything to e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. I try everything. And nothing works.
It’s not like I ck in any physical or material aspects. I’m fairly handsome, eloquent, smart, and retively healthy.
My bank account spans six figures due to my rich parents abroad. Even if I don’t move from my bed till the end of my life, I'm pretty much set for life.
It’s been a while since I graduated from high school, and I’m about to apply for a university. Technically, most of my cssmates have already done just that, but I decided to take a gap year to find my hope, as I have no future to look forward to.
It’s now April. Rain drizzles on my window. The leaves outside in the park sway as I hear the breeze pluck a weakened branch away from its trunk and feel a young leaf detach from its stem.
Children still py, unbothered. They shoot a ball; shout; ugh; cry; joy.
Time passes, and time passes quickly, and time passes slowly.
My room is just as messy as the outside, smelling funny, smelling of sweet food and sweat, of decay and depravity, and clothes are scattered everywhere wherever. Whatever, I turn to the empty wall and hug my pillow in a fetal position.
I think. Yet still nothing.
I continue to think, to read, and to discover every day, yet nothing still.
Without looking, I sweep my hand across the bed and paw at the bnkets, feeling for my phone, finding nothing. Who cares? Why bother? Why am I even looking for it?
Scroll through the brainrot machine they call social media? Install and waste a day in yet another casino, aka gacha game? Read one more trash-tier web novel they dare call peak fiction? Maybe comics? Perhaps anime? Mayhaps porn?
My phone vibrates from somewhere, and I grab it, unlocking the screen.
A bck screen, 2 P.M. When did I go to bed, 2 A.M?
So I’ve been lying for twelve hours if we discount the visits to the toilet, right?
Why do I care? Let’s just sleep again.
Oh, wait, there must be a reason why my phone jiggled even though I’ve turned off almost all my notifications.
What is it? Who with what which fuck is it?
Nobody. Not a message from a person I know.
Right, I must’ve lost all my friends by now by ghosting them.
Just an email.
A contract. Wait, a what?
A contract?
A contract.
—A mysterious contract
Hello human!
I am a cadet from the Majic Girl Academi. I want to do a project in some faraway interesting pce.
Will you marri me?
I like paining. I like books. I like boobs. I like traveling.
Please ignore this if you are ugli, boring, stupid, or don’t like cheese.
If I don’t like you, I will divorce you. Basicalli kill you. Thank you!
Sincereli,
Michiko ^?^
Woah. For a spare moment, I smile. I haven’t done so in what? Days? Weeks?
But I smile through my teeth.
What a ridiculous prank. It’s so cringy. So cringe it somehow makes it fun? Ha…
Why do I care? It’s probably just a scam. They come up with new tricks every waking moment. Though I’ll give it to them. Pretty creative.
Will probably get a few desperate guys. I know how it goes.
After you respond to the message, it’ll say something like…
“Oops. I reaaally want to marry— marri you, but I don’t have enough dolrs— dars. Please send me some moni moni please, insert smiley face,” I talk crap in a girlish pitch, which only makes up for a half-baked half-boiled piskey voice.
“Sure thing, Mademoiselle! I accept it!” I respond to myself, extending my arms to the heavens beyond the prison walls. “I feel so lonely and miserable! Your proposal gives me hope in this accursed life!”
And so I type what I just said and send it to her in replies.
In almost just a moment, my phone judders some more.
—A misterious girl
Hello again, human!
You made the right choice! I have spent so much mana to send it to hundreds, and you are the first to respond! What is it if not fate? You didn’t even ask ani questions! Just accepted!
Let me grab mi things, and I will teleport! This is the first time I've made a magical contract with someone, so I’m super excited!
Sincereli,
Michiko ^?^
Phah. This can’t be a human responding, right? Has to be some AI.
Though I have to admit, AI has become so good the entire internet is now trashed by it. Death of the internet, they say. I’m starting to believe. Can’t even read books these days online because of it, tsk tsk.
So anyway, what next do I send to my AI girlfriend? Ah, no, wife. An AI wife.
“Phahahahaha!” I can’t help but ugh at my predicament. “Life is going good, man. To think that I got married fresh out of high school! What next, a menial job, driving kids to school? I’m so super excited too!”
Suddenly, the walls start to quake.
An earthquake? Strange. I don’t live in an area where earthquakes frequent the nd.
A small blue circle begins to form atop my head beneath the ceiling.
Huh? The hell? Hahahaha… no fucking way…
“Helloooooo husbaaaaa-aa-aa-aaaaand!!!”
Before I can react and my heart fills with regret, and before my consciousness leaves me, the portal enrges and poops out a figure, a bizarre girl with bizarre looks in a bizarre outfit.
Her face smashes into mine like a torpedo. My first kiss tinges despair.
“Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!”
