Artificial Memory (DISCONT'D BUT WILL UPLOAD UNEDITED CHAPTERS)

Chapter 3: The Genderqueer Tumblr Shitposter In My Head Is Actually Useful

Memory's feet scuffed on the carpet stairs as he came down into the kitchen. I was sitting at the table with a plate of cinnamon toast as I watched him come down.

I now watched him with even more interest, having had an incredibly strange dream last night involving some kind of prophecy or omen.

Normally, dreams aren't important to most people. However, I'm a Dreamwalker and we often have dreams that foretell future events or disasters. This dream and omen, relayed to me by an apparently non-binary individual, involved Memory and some other destructive Aberrant.

The non-binary kid had short, spiky brown hair, wore a white mask with two dots for eyes and a line for a mouth, baggy grey sweatpants, black and white Converse sneakers, a white hoodie with black-ringed sleeves, and a t-shirt with the number 96 on it.

I asked this odd person what they wanted me to call them and they said, word for word,

"Dude, I managed to use my MacBook to enter your head and tell you about this prophecy because I have no fucking idea how to use my own powers to do this and you're concerned about my gender? Bruh."

This was followed by more absolute nonsense, but I decided to trust this person's instructions. More of their absolute insanity included,

"Ok, so I think your name's Distance? Bitchin'"

"Hold up, what's your Tumblr URL?"

"I run a shitpost blog, but mine's special because I actually used Shia Labeouf as my icon."

"My memory is shit. Wait, not your Memory, he's pretty cute."

"Anime is real and that makes me happy."

"Has science gone too far? I mean, WHO NEEDS WEED NOW THAT YOU CAN FUCK WITH PEOPLE'S DREAMS?! Not that I smoke weed, but DAMN!"

"My name? Oh, I'm literally trash and I escaped civilization because I'm not one of the eight races OR Aberrant, so I haven't talked to people in a loooong time--oh yeah, I call myself Cry. Like the YouTuber. I'm a pretty big fan and all the cool names are taken, so I call myself Cry."

"Do you know what it's like to be stranded in the middle of fucking Colorado in a ghost town with nothing but your outdoor skills, and your anime? It's pretty tragic. You don't have anyone to watch it with."

"If I go another year without anyone here with me, I'm literally gonna run across the street to this old sports store and name a volleyball Wilson...actually I'll find one of those Mikasa brand ones and take up a new life as Eren Jaeger."

"I'm like 75.8 percent sure that I'm gonna meet you guys at some point in the next few months. I'm pretty hype."

I shuddered at the thought of meeting this insufferable protest-dweller, but at the same time, I pitied them for the lonely life they'd been forced to live.

I'd been too afraid of breaking this joyful person's happiness to ask Cry what race they were that was even more scorned than Aberrants.

I was yanked back to the present when Memory yawned and slowly made his way towards the fruit bowl on the counter to grab a peach. Once he'd done that, he threw himself down on the chair and sunk his fangs into the peach, sucking the flesh and juice out of it since he didn't like peach skin.

"You sleep okay?"

I asked him between bites of toast.

He shook his head.

"Oh?"

I prodded him further, wondering if he too had dreamed about the omen...and Cry.

"That's the last time I take Advil before bed. I had some weird hallucination and I feel like I stayed up all night."