::The same day somewhere close, in the mind of someone close by:: :: :

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do now. The screen is snapping black and red. The waiting animation is pretty entertaining; it's a swirl of white that creates multiple little pictures: a star, a heart, and a half moon.

brr, brr, brr. A buzzing followed by a sweet tune.

5:30 a.m.

<A stranger is in your house.>

The screen stayed like this for a while. I'm not sure what to think. I don't think this is directed at me. I think. I have nothing interesting in my house. My most precious possession is already in my hand. The swirls come back again.

<Welcome>

<S.T.E is glad to have you>

<Start now> <Start later>

I choose to start now. I like that there are two options. It eases the small bit of skepticism I held; I'm desperate for this either way.

<S.T.E  corp's Spirit of the End>

<There are only 3 rules> —- <that you must know>

<To choose accept is to be done, in every occurrence>

<Complete all tasks in due time. Failure results in penalties.>

<Always follow instructions exactly. Deviation nullifies progress.>

<Accept> <?>

I move forward.

<Task 1> —-

<Leave door unlocked now, until the day ends>

<50$>

Ahh, that explains the earlier message. Still, I don't get why it is out of order. I finally get out of bed. I've built multiple habits over the years but never once broke my sleep pattern. I sleep by 9 and wake up at 5:30 religiously. I take my backpack and put everything I care about in it.

Today will be a good day.

::

I finished my second session on early development. Now I sit silently eating my dried-up nacho sandwich. Lacks spice.  I check my phone once more, half hoping there's another task for today.

"Still sitting alone, huh?"

I don't say a word. We aren't in high school anymore. I don't know why it's still necessary to bully me after one small event, even if it was throwing up on my 'date.' It's not even just one, two guys block my view. 

I know of them but might as well call them dumb and dumber. They're both on the volleyball team and both studying social work.

I don't get it at all, I get the impression they're in it for the parties and the low-workload degree. Since the accident, they've been using me as a fetch dog.

I was on my way to the bathroom on a normal day, when one of them was waiting next to the urinal, the other came up behind me, a terrifying experience. At the time, I thought something a hell of a lot worse than a fetch quest was going to happen. I am grateful it is just that. Yet I can't shake the fact that they're the Loki's of my existence.

Eh... never mind more like troll 1 and troll 2. My situation is worsened by the fact that they howl very loudly to the world about what a wimp I am.

I do tend to go cold in the presence of danger, not numb but like some kind of malfunctioning android.

That cursed video, it has really turned my social life upside dow, my only friends are from work.

"Say, we're kinda hungry, fetch us a meal."

I oblige. When I step up, I feel water all over my body.

"Sorry, eh, my bad. Hope you're not going to barf all over me as revenge, mouse."

I freeze, but there's nothing for me to wait for. The meanest makes a quick gesture; he's impatient. I walk only to bump into someone. He's probably wet too now. 

He's taller than me; so is everyone, but he is especially domineering. The kind of tall person that doesn't have any neck problems because they rarely look down. He smiles, his inner corners move up, it's so patronizing it's nauseating. He pulls his hand at the back of my my neck.

"Hey, funny seeing you around. Are those your friends?" He points at my perpetrators. All I can do is awkwardly laugh. His posture changes; he's waiting for a response. They actually have the same expression as me, I can almost discern their sweat.

Wait, I don't even know him. 

"We're just messing around." They leave in a hurry. I can't believe it.

"Thank you, you really saved me," I say, giddy. 

"S'that so? Well now you owe me."

"Wait... What?" I did not expect that. my stomach turned.

"You owe me now. For that." He points at the trolls.

"Give me your phone. I'll contact you when I'm done." 

"Done-ne doing what? I can't... I can't give you my phone like that." I step back.

"This is a win-win situation, you give me a hand with this small thing, and then you'll never be pushed around again." He crosses his arm; jeez his muscles are so defined and big I think he could pick me up by the neck and lift me up with only one arm like Darth Vader in Revenge of the Sith. And that, with no effort whatsoever. I reluctantly lift my hand, he types something, I don't take the time to look at him.

Declining was never an option.

:: 

Whenever I'm at Mac's I turn the radio off. I can't stand music after a stressful, so I never bother to bring my earphones to work. I do like them in the morning when walking to university.

The servers buzz too loudly, but at least they're consistent; I find them comforting.

When I am here, nothing bad happens.

I finish the easiest tasks like dusting and restocking.  Sometimes people misplace controllers, even though the shop is small; rarely do they misplace our miscellaneous items like our plushies or watches.

I mean, I know our cyber burger plushies aren't appealing but the watches have their charm. They're made of hard plastic with Pokemon decals. It's probably the fact that they don't interact with those.

Looking at them closer, they couldn't even make a Bingo prize. I wipe their shelves, it's the dustiest spot as always. 

::

Mopping  the last area; I can't avoid the stack of work waiting now. 

(Omitted) is a specialist at this; he has already fixed half of the almost 20 Blackberries we have on our list on his last shift. I on the other hand never dabble with them.

Our customers leave plenty of leeway; they rarely have anything urgent—important, yes, but not urgent.

In the basket dedicated to me (with all the easiest tasks), I see an SD card. It's cute. I've never seen a pink SD card before; I've never seen a colored one at all. A piece of paper is taped to it; it's barely holding on.

- Inspect (done)

- Physical connection check (done)

- Run recovery tool (CD in drawer)

- Command line tool / chkdsk command I told you about before

Sweet, he's the best; this seems pretty easy to do. It's kind of late at the moment; I'll be able to run the diagnostics without interruption.

The process runs smoothly; the progress bar takes its time. I should get up to do something else.

After a full 360 of window shopping, I step into the back door. Boxes fill the entire room, so much that the walls are completely covered. 

The ceiling paint is run down and falling off; I've always wondered how that even happens. My eyes are blinded from staring at the light; I lose interest in everything but my favorite box. It's wooden, the only one that's Victorian ornate

-like. Inside, old vinyls, photocards, clocks, rings—there's nothing like it. Settled down, I put all my favorite items around me. I pick up a silver ring; marred by rays of black. With time the metal oxidized.  There are pearls evenly spaced and interspersed with small diamonds. It's elegant and old. I lift my ring finger towards the ceiling, the light glitter on the jewel. I am captivated.

"I knew you were strange," a voice declares, causing my heart to plummet. It's a voice I recognize all too well—the terminator, the duplicitous two-faced terminator, here to end me.

Why is this happening ? My fear prevents me from turning around. I feel as helpless as a hula girl on a dashboard.

"You know, if you don't want to be teased so much, you should try being less appealing," I frown, disturbed by the comment.

"Get up. We're going to your place; I need somewhere to sleep." I want to respond, but words fail me. I'm bound by invisible chains. Impatient with my stillness, he yanks my hair, causing me to stumble over a box. He grabs my hand and leads me to the door, taking a moment to extinguish the lights. Of course...

I comply—of course I do. My doors remain unlocked, inviting danger in.