Invader Zim ZADR: How did we get here?

Chapter 4: Wanna get a drink?

Well...it is shorter. I might have too much free time on my hands...Enjoy!

"uhh..."

For once Dib wasn't wakened from his slumber by the screeching alarm from his phone. Instead, he felt his eyes twitch as rays of sunlight were shining through his window and onto his face. Like needles, they stabbed into his eyeballs as he slowly regained his sight. With great effort on his part, Dib managed to lift one of his arms in front of his face and blocked the sun. He kept laying still, still half asleep until he finally started getting over his unconsciousness.

'Ugh, of course, it would be sunny in the middle of November'. He thought to himself, as slowly lifted himself from the bed. Now sitting up, he had a tired and weary expression, his eyes still trying to regain focus. He started rubbing them, hoping it would speed up the process. When his rubbing started paying off, he let his eyes wander around the room, to then stop at his end table by the side of the bed. He then narrowed his sore eyes on the clock standing on it, the arrows slowly moving. It took him a moment but he was finally able to make out what time it was. It was twelve minutes over nine.

He felt his stomach twist before he let out an involuntary yelp. With no consideration for his impaired physical state, he tried jumping out of the bed. But he misjudged where the edge was and ended up falling down on the floor. He had expected more of a bang, but his fall was strangely quiet. It didn't even hurt that much. He didn't think more about it, as he prepared to dash towards his closet, which would inevitably lead to him gaining more injuries. But right as he had lifted himself off the cushy floor, he suddenly had the feeling that there should be something he should have remembered by now.

"...Oh wait...it's Saturday!"

While letting out an exhausted sigh, he let himself fall back on the floor. It was still soft. He wondered why that was, and turned to see what he was laying on. Underneath him, there was a mattress, sheets, and a single pillow that looked like it had been beaten to a pulp. He looked at it puzzled, wondering why all that stuff was laying there. It even looked like someone had tried to make a bed. He wanted to meet that person, for they had done an extremely bad job at it. He looked further around the room, hoping he could try and find clues to what had happened last night. It was then his eyes caught something. It was a pile of what seemed like clothing in one of the corners. Slowly, he got up from the floor, and with uneasy steps, started walking over to the corner.

When he reached it, he crouched and leaned down. He picked up the first thing he touched. When he held it up in front of his face, he quickly realized that it was his shirt. Well, at least one of his old ones. What was it doing here?

Then his mind was flooded by pictures, he really had hoped he would have forgotten forever. Unfortunately, he hadn't. He then dropped the shirt as if it was contaminated by deadly radiation, and started shivering all over. Then he came to a realization.

"Wait...oh god I forget. HOW COULD I FORGET?!!"

A shocked expression took over his face, and he started taking small steps backward. He only stopped once he reached his bed, whereupon he sat down, trying to rebuild his composure. When he felt like he was ready, he started carefully going over the events from the day before. He started remembering all the events that had led to the latest disaster in his life. A sleepover with Zim. He was wondering if it all could have been a dream, but unless he was still dreaming, it didn't seem very likely. He still wasn't ready to abandon that slight sliver of hope and started slapping himself. He had closed his eyes, and when his cheeks started to hurt, he opened them. He had hoped to find himself lying in bed again, but to his dismay, he was still sitting on the bed. And below him, the shoddy bed he had made to Zim.