The Perfect Li(f)e

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Act II. What Is It, Then?

He thought opening his eyes would end the pitch black world. He was greeted with the same darkness, its middle finger on his face.

Matt felt cushion beneath him, and the texture of soft cotton. He felt for his things and found that he was still wearing the same thing he had on the bus stop. He could not remember being in an accident except his birth. He expected an hospital, with a dextrose slapped into the veins of his hand and an overall clean and white environment. Probably a good-looking nurse his age. Single.

The darkness lifted its hand from its obscene gesture into a facepalm. He tried to funny but now all he feels is pity as he can hear what Matt was thinking of. He was expecting that maybe Matt would have thought “Am I dead?” or at the very least “Where am I?”. Nothing along those lines came forth.

Matt extends his limbs and finds a concrete wall on his left side, his left arm halfway stretched. His right hand was greeted with an unsteady wooden table before he could fully extend it. He tried to check its stability but all it did was dance with his force while making squeaky sounds. Above the table was what seemed to be something very dear to Matt.

By very dear, it was Ada. She was there all the time. Patiently waiting for Matt’s return after his classes. Always ready to be used. Always ready to entertain. Always ready to be laid hands on. Always an i3 Samsung laptop.

The darkness was expecting joy from the reunion, the thought of not being able to see but at least feel each other. Matt opened Ada up immediately anyway as darkness gave way to the blinding light. Matt used the touchpad to navigate towards the password textbox. Typing “edisnidaedmaiempleh” brought forth a black background about “Umbrella Corporation.”

He didn’t work in that corporation. Neither did the corporation exist except in a video game.

Appalled and displaced a little, the darkness continued to observe while quietly judging Matt. How he opened Google Chrome in muscle memory, how he tried to go to Facebook, and how Matt didn’t even use the laptop’s light to see the surroundings. It felt insulting for darkness. It didn’t feel like an everyman. To him Matt looked like someone trying to be cool, trying to act weird or irrational. As darkness went on and sipped the black coffee he had been brewing himself, he felt sadness.

I think it’s another one of those nothing-to-lose kids, darkness sighed quietly.

Facebook could not load, but an annoying tab kept opening to the point that Matt had to look at it. He opened up a white webpage with the blue header saying “Featherbrook Daily.”

Matt scoffed. “Why is Facebook not opening?”

Kept as a secret from himself, the inner Matt wanted to see if Erin posted about him, or anything at all. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness and aided by some of the light, he can make of a door completely chained shut by different locks just an inch away from the table He could identify a rotary dial lock, a word combination lock, a number combination lock and one that looks heavy duty and requires a key of some sort. He then resumes checking out the webpage.

That’s it? Darkness thought. Not even funny one-liners such as “Looks like I’m not getting out any time soon”?

Matt used to look at the window when he was thinking of something to do, until he boarded for a room without windows. It just had a bed directly laid onto the floor. The ceiling followed the roof as it angled down towards the bed. Ada was his only light back then on top of that squeaky table. He didn’t know when it was daytime until his alarm sounded. Somehow, he thought he was in the same room, in the same attic that was his hole for 10 months.

The web page had links to some news headlines. Matt clicked on “Police investigating unauthorized murals appearing outside the walls of Featherbrook University.” Featherbrook University(FU) was his campus, located in the bustling capital of Marshfield. Marshfield was polluted due to its urban setting, and its traffic is worse than your nose being congested with heavy duty permanent glue. He was expecting a news article, but he was lead instead into a video in the perspective of a guy walking on a familiar sidewalk. He seemed like he was vlogging.

No. It seemed like he was talking to himself, just with a camera.

No. Not a camera.

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