draftware

the arrival

draftware

by e3khatena

the arrival

I had this song stuck in my head, it was all "beep boop boop beep... beep boop boop beep... beep boop boop boop boop... beep boop boop beep"... man, that's not helpful, beep and boop don't even feel like words anymore. Right, um, where was I? Right, um... I don't know. I don't know much of anything, honestly, I just knew I had this song stuck in my head, you already know how it goes.

So here I was seemingly buried somewhere with all this sand, a song stuck in my head, and it was just so infectious that I couldn't forget it, felt a little entranced by it. Beep boop boop beep... beep boop boop boop boop boop....

--em, right, so I needed to get out of this place, I assumed. Why was I in the dirt? I did my best to roll onto my back and reach out, and the sand gave way like fragile water, sifting down below the sand, leaving me exposed to the light, ten thousand hazy lumens screaming at me in a cacophony of sensory overload. I stood up and looked around. The first order of business was to figure out who I was. You see, all I knew was this song that was stuck in my head, beep boop boop be—you know the story. I felt tall, taller than usual, and my skin didn't match the sky or the sand, but the earthy stones buried in the sand, a warm darker color. I looked down at what I was wearing, a slightly-oversized minty green sweater and a tidy black skirt, black socks with red shoes. The ensemble felt alright, I don't really know what I expected, all I knew was this song, beep boo

I closed my eyes and tried to focus. Right. I reached into my pockets to see if I could find anything, anything at all. The first item of importance I spotted was an image of a large gray cat. A lovely, handsome-looking character who probably kept me company. I think? Was this my body before? I don't know, all I knew was this one little ditty, I'm not sure if you've heard of it, it went bee

The second thing I found was a small gray wallet with a picture of a skeleton pulling an Indy 900 while on fire on the front. I flipped through the wallet but all I found was a piece of paper that "Bank of England" and "Ten Pounds" (it certainly didn't weight that much, though), and a plastic card with a happy, beaming face on the front. The girl on the card had a skin tone that looked like mine, and to the right was two words on two separate lines: "Emmerson Suzy".

Was that my name? Emmerson Suzy? Was it Emmerson Suzy or was it Suzy Emmerson? Where did I get this card? Was it here, was it somewhere else? Maybe someone nearby would know. There were a couple houses around where I had just woken up, maybe they'd have the answers I was looking for. I knocked on a door, and a man with pale skin and dark hair wearing a short button-up shirt and shorts stepped into the open frame. "Name's Romero, and don't you forget it," he responded, "what can I help you with?"

"Um, hi. I'm, um... I don't actually know, but I have this card here. Maybe you could help me out?"

The man took the plastic card, and read through it. "Emmerson Suzy, six-twelve-sixty-six, Norwich... I mean, I don't know what else you're looking for, hon."

"Does any of this mean anything to you? Can I step inside, maybe?"

The man looked me over, and then invited me in. As soon as I spotted a mirror, I approached its gaze and stared deeply inside. The mirror seemed a little short, I could barely see myself in it. I was indeed the girl from the card, with thick locks of curly hair and these cute red glasses on. Romero walked up to the mirror, his face landing perfectly in the middle of its frame. "You're quite tall," he reckoned, "gotta be, what, six-foot-five? You play any basketball before you ended up here?"