The world burned, as it should.

The world is no place for the faint of heart.

Nothing is here to help you for your sake; Everything can be driven down to a singular, primal desire to save oneself. But you know that; You live here, presumably. So here’s some advice. Take a look in the mirror and think to yourself: why am I here? Find a purpose. Deliver on it. Live a life you can be proud of.

This is the story of how I did just that; I lived life to its fullest, and, in the process, burned down the whole goddamn world. And that’s not some figurative bullshit. The world is gone. But… it was no accident. What you’re reading may be fictional, but for me, it’s all too real.

The screams. The deaths. The losses. All for what? I lost everything.

Well. I guess I have a few things.

Rise. That’s the one thing I remember from my dream. Or nightmare? Hell if I know. I just remember the singular word: Rise. Whatever it meant was none of my concern. I simply woke in my bed, ready to take on the world, reaching for my blankets and throwing them away. I told myself I’d pick them up later, but would I? Eventually. Maybe. But probably not today, knowing myself. Yawning loudly, my numb body stumbled out of bed and tripped over itself a few times. Fuck waking up this early.

I realized I had stumbled right in front of my wardrobe, and thus was staring at my reflection. I looked fine as-is. My hair was a fucking mess. My eyes had bags under them. But I didn’t care… I was awake, and that was enough torture for me. I’m not going through all the trouble to fancify myself... it’ll just get messed up again. I walked away from my wardrobe’s mirror, heading towards my closet. The first thing I grabbed from there was today’s apparel, whatever it was.

Turns out, the first thing was pajama pants. On they go. I was a bit cold, though, so I grabbed a sweatshirt too. That’ll do. Closing the closet while sporting my “hybrid attire”, I realized I forgot to put on a bra. Eh, nobody’s gonna see it anyways, I thought. My stomach then proceeded to remind me I was hungry. Ugh. Guess I’ll go get the poptarts.

The first thing you should know about me is that I don’t give a flying fuck. Well, I guess you’ve gathered that much from my actions and excessive use of the word “Fuck”. I’m a pretty miserable person when you boil me down. Don’t do that, by the way, boiling water hurts… where’d that phrase even come from? I wouldn’t know, I can’t even cook mac n’ cheese. Oh yeah, the name’s Poppy. A rather sweet name for someone like me, huh?

I sigh and stumble into the kitchen, seeking a poptart… or any kind of sustenance, really. It was then that I realized how much of a mess my apartment really was; Food wrappers everywhere, a game controller there, a broken pair of earbuds on that… god, I needed to clean this place. I may not care on most occasions, but if this is the scene I have to set my eyes upon daily… might as well make it look nice.

I decide to plop myself down onto my dirty-ass floor, smacking my lips for some reason. Why the hell did I plop onto the floor of all places? Don’t ask me. I mean, do ask me, but don’t expect an answer. Either way, I was here now, and that’s where I was stayin’.

But… cleaning was boring. Everyone knows that. I didn’t wanna get off my ass and clean a damn thing.

Ugh.

I blinked my eyes repeatedly, trying to whisk away those tears you get when you’re tired. Is there a term for them? I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t care either. But that’s besides the point; When my eyes opened once more, I wasn’t staring at the usual scene of my sorry ass apartment; Instead, there was a massive hole in the wall. For a second, I almost screeched. But then? All fear disappeared, and I just stared back at it. Nothing scary about it, Poppy. No need to be worried. I just stared. And stared. For some reason, I didn’t panic. I stared on and on as a singular, glowing eye began to appear, looking back at me.

And then I woke up on the floor. I sat there dazed for a bit, taking in my real surroundings this time. There wasn’t a hole in the wall… I don’t know why I decided to pass out on the dirty-ass floor, but this is what I get. You know what? All things considered, cleaning sounds kind of peaceful right now. I get up and, defeated, attempt to clean my apartment.