I hadn't slept much that night.

The sound of a scooter woke me up from a false slumber. Luckily, it was a Friday so my mom had gone to buy groceries. I peeked through the window.

The thick plumes of exhaust fumes mixed with a chilly summer morning air and the hovering red and yellow DHL helmet forced me to leap out of bed and grab my medication. I chucked a pill into my mouth and washed it down with the remaining water on my desk. I had done a somewhat intense work out the night before. I was still a little sore, but I soldiered on.

The delivery man honked his airy horn three times.
I rushed to the door and flung it open. The strength from my legs immediatley drained away...

The world, no, reality itself began to warp and twitch. The gate (which was in fact a mere twenty paces away) seemed like a journey to the promised land. The sounds of chirping birds, a sprinkler somewhere, the delivery man's horn, all were muddled and pushed away.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing the medication to work. Slowly, the reality I knew returned.

"Hey!"

It was the delivery man. He was peeking atop the Durawall.

"Can you stop fucking around? I have other places to be, okay?"

"Uhm, yeah"

I looked behind me, at my house, my haven, my sanctuary. I felt like I was abandoning my lover.
I took in another deep breath and jogged to the gate. When I got there the delivery man leapt backwards eyes wide and nose flared.

"Give it" I said in a low and menacing manner.

He fumbled the strap on the back of his scooter, dropped the box, picked it up and gave it to me. Through all this (I only realized when I started feeling dizzy) I was still holding my breath. I made my way back inside.

"Hey, you gotta sign for it!"

He looked like he was beginning to regret his life choices when I sort of crab-walked back to him. I snatched his pen and scribbled my initials.

The world was slowly becoming a battle field again...

I heard a plane flying overhead and I couldn't stop myself from imagining it crashing at 13 Bakersfield road and engulfing the entire Green Grove town in hellish flames. With how fast I was back in the house, I could've given the Flash a run for his money.

From outside I heard,

"Drugs are really killing these kids"

***

I set the box on my bed. It was about as big as the box the microwave in the kitchen had come in. I just hoped that it wouldn't have the same effects though. Pushing the gruesome thought aside, I ripped off the khakhi wrapping.

The box was matte black with the hot pink MeetFirst logo on the top (a cursive MF). I unhooked the carbon latch, revealing a bunch of glossy obsidian coloured objects embedded in white foam.

The largest was a black helmet with the company logo on the side. I put it on and proceeded to inspect the other objects. Metal fingercaps with thin pink tubes all connected to a small black box which, in turn, had a thick pink cable with a black wall plug. A 5 kg bag with what looked like, but didn't taste like, coarse salt. I picked up the manual which was a thin black booklet written in...you guessed it, pink coloured Times New Roman. I was never one for manuals, even with my phone and laptop, I just got into the habit of learning the features and recommended usage through experience and they did say that was the best teacher anyway.

But this wasn't an everyday object so I flipped to the setup instructions page.

The cord with a bulb shaped metal head was apparently to be suspended in a bucket of warm water mixed with sodium crystallite (the granules that looked like salt but weren't). The ration of mixture was to be 300 grams of crystallite to 10 litres of water. So basically a few tablespoons and half a bucket of water. The USB cord (This I found in a small plastic packet at the bottom of the box) was to be connected from a port hidden in the black foam of the helmet to the User's PC or laptop.

After successfully setting up the hardware, one would have to insure that their internet connection was strong and consistent before opening their web browser (Preferably Chrome). Then the user would access the Simudate portal which would be automatically opened after confirming the users eligibility as a BETA tester by checking the MeetFirst database.

Seemed simple enough.

I went to the kitchen, bucket in hand, and prepared the required mixtures. I positioned everything as instructed, but then a thought occurred to me,

Am I really this desperate?

Had I really failed at the social scene so much that I needed an experimental device that would hurt me in the best case scenario and kill me in the worst to help me?

I need the money more.

I plugged the device in.
At first the helmet buzzed then steadied into a barely audible hum. The foam constricted (but not uncomfortably so) onto my head, adapting to its shape. A pleasing warmth entered my hands through my fingertips as the tubes connected to the fingercaps lit up. The water in the bucket began to ripple consistently.

But again, as I hovered the mouse above the Chrome icon, I asked myself if my life experiences had indeed led me to such depths.

That train of thought was halted by the sound of clanking keys. The kitchen door whined open.

"John, groceries!"

"Coming!"

NOTE FROM AUTHOR:
THANK YOU SO MUCH DEAR READER FOR STICKING AROUND. PLEASE VOTE AND LEAVE ANY CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IF POSSIBLE.

-EMOLYON