The ride home made me a little thirsty. I was sprawled out on my couch, sipping on a cool bottle of Mountain Dew. Nothing had ever tasted so sweet. On the screen in front of me ran a huge rendered video of our ride from early recorded by one of the tiny pin head cameras Konpyuuta Chan used to see the world. I had five angles up, all shifting slightly to let me see the area around the bike. I was trying to sort out any issues it would have, especially with the engine. My heart was still pounding from the race. I loved this thing.
I remember now something my mother said to me, a long time ago. I was drooling over a then brand new sports bike. I told her everything about it, top speed, and engine displacement, even the brake manufacturer. Then she turned to me and said “Its all my fault, I shouldn’t have bought you all those G.I. Joes when you were little, now you just want whatever you see!” I am starting to wonder if my mother got the point of that whole conversation. I just really thought that motorcycle was awesome.
The screen was starting to get to the part where I caught up to the stupid college kids. I stretched a little; I already knew how this was going to end. I kept my eyes glued to the technical data that was reading off the screen, engine temperature, power output, fuel consumption, and the more important stuff. I had to make sure the bike would reach its maximum potential. The obsession was consuming me. I had to make it perfect. I had waited my whole life up until this moment to get this motorcycle. It was going to be amazing.
I realized I was getting a little tired. The day had worn on pretty late; the sun was almost rising already. I could feel the dull tug of sleep, pulling against my caffeine-induced awareness. It made me feel like throwing up. I tossed the empty bottle into my trashcan, the dull thud echoed in the silent room. I crawled under the covers of my little futon and tried to drift off to sleep.
The caffeine was still working its way through my system. I was relinquished to staring at the dark ceiling looming overhead. How many times had I lay here? I couldn’t even remember if I had the night before. My attention was diverted too quickly from one thing to another sometimes. Keeping track of certain things started to become harder and harder to do as the day wore on. What had I eaten for breakfast? Did I even eat breakfast today? I couldn’t remember at all. Oh well, it isn’t that important. I told Konpyuuta Chan to turn off the screen so I could try to get some sleep. She just giggled at me.
I rolled over on my side, shutting my eyes tightly. As the first rays of the sun trickled in through my window and cascaded over my body I felt my body finally give up. I drifted slowly off to sleep, and then all at once I awoke with a start.
How long had I been sleeping? I put on my glasses groggily. The clock read about twelve hours later then it had before. I suppose it was just another one of the dreamless nights, nights I had grown accustomed to by now. The dull feelings of awareness crept over my consciousness slowly. I rolled over face down, burying my head in the worn pillow. I didn’t want to get up yet. How long had it been since I actually went outside while it was still daylight? Days, maybe a week.
I didn’t care; I wasn’t a fan of sunlight anyway. For a second I contemplated blacking out the lone window in my room with some random anime wall scroll so I never had to see the damn sun again. I shut my eyes tightly. Then I remembered my bike. My heart started beating a little faster in my chest that moment. I sat up and waved my hand. All the screens in the room silently sprung to life. I gestured slightly and a view from my bike filled the large panel on the wall. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was still sitting outside under its cover where I had left it the night before. I had a creeping feeling, like part of a lost dream had drifted into my mind for a moment. For just one instant, the bike, the light, the dull hum of the electronics, the weight of the air in the room, it all became familiar. In almost that same instant it was lost.
“Your burning daylight, you know that right?” Konpyuuta Chan had taken up her spot on the sofa again.
“That was kind of the plan.” I fell back into bed, watching the last bits of the day work their way across the floor and out of sight.
“What is the point of lying around in bed all day, you have things to do.” She held in her outstretched hands the case that had been given to me so long ago. I had completely forgotten about it. “Shall we open it and find out what is inside?”
“I don’t feel like it right now.” I rolled over in bed, pulling the sheets up to cover my head. “I just want to sleep.” I closed my eyes tightly, praying for the sleep to come.
It wouldn’t.
The frustration, finally it drove me to throwing off the covers and sitting up in bed. Konpyuuta Chan was nowhere to be seen. The last dull rays of the sun had finished their painfully long journey across the worn boards of my floor. I was wide-awake. There was nothing I could do to rest now, my mind raced, a million miles a second. So many stupid ideas, urges, petty obsessions, all of them screaming at me, calling for action. Long ago I had to learn how to suppress them, to drive them down deep so that they would eventually fade away, out of my mind. Out of sight out of mind. As long as they would just leave me alone long enough to think.
I closed my eyes tightly. When I opened them the room was totally blank. I blinked; the room slowly came into focus around me. My glasses must have jumped a frame. Sometimes that would happen, just a glitch in my programming, usually when the image enhancement RAM needed to flush itself. I realized that the lights were out, and as the last rays of the sun disappeared over the distant, unreachable horizon, the room fell totally black.
“I’m bored.” I sighed.
“Want to play a game?” Konpyuuta Chan’s disembodied voice startled me.
“What do you have in mind?” I walked over to my dresser to change my clothes into something cleaner.
“How about that one where you are an elf defending the world against injustice or whatever?” She flicked into existence silently by my desk, resting on it casually.
“No one plays that anymore, it wouldn’t be any fun.” I ran my hands through my hair.
“What about that new one we haven’t tried?” She held out her hand and the screen on the wall started playing the intro to an old favorite game series of mine.
“Now we are talking.” I looked up and smiled.
“These games always scare me though…” her voice trailed off. I was already walking into the ring on the side of the room.
“Boot it up, lets see how this one runs.” And then I was gone.
Post a Comment