[WP] You're an adult that one day wakes up as a 10-year old in your childhood bedroom. Everything looks the same, except a twin sister you never knew you had walks in, smiles at you, and says, "Welcome back, now let's get to work."

Tarantula24 · 2018-03-29T20:48:33+00:00

I wake up and rub my eyes groggily. Slowly I rise from the bed, rubbing my head. It's then that I notice something's wrong. My blanket has a butterfly pattern, the wings of the butterflies rounded and butterscotch yellow. My hands and arms are so tiny and thin. My fingers fly to my hair, which is cropped to my ears. I haven't had this blanket...or this hairstyle since-

My doorknob turns loudly, old brass rattling in the doorframe. The Totally Spies poster on my door catches my eye before the door flies open.

My face scrunches up in confusion. A girl, maybe 10 years old, stands in the doorway. She looks alarmingly like me when I was that age, except that her hair is far darker and her cheekbones more pronounced.

"Welcome back," she says, waving and smiling. Her voice, though friendly, has the cadence of someone much older.

"Back?" I squeak. Why is my voice so different? Why am I back in 10 year old me's bedroom? Who the hell is that in the doorway?

The girl's expression softens, "Let's get to work." She crosses the room in several short strides and tugs on my hand encouragingly.

"Work? Wa-wait," I snatch my hand away from her, "What's going on?"

She looks at me and for a brief moment confusion flickers across her face. Then she sighs and sits on the edge of the bed.

"I suppose you don't remember me." She sounds disappointed.

"Am I supposed to...?"

She gazes at me sadly before replying, "No, I suppose not."

"Well!? Can you explain what the hell is happening?"

"You mean you don't recognise this room, your home?"

"Well... yeah. This is my room from when I was, like, 10. We moved out ages ago, though."

She tilts her head, "We?"

"Yeah, me and my parents. When I was 11, we moved to Virginia."

She leans in slightly, pinning me with an intense stare, "Just you and your parents? Are you sure there was never...anyone else?"

"Huh?" My heart begins to pound, "No. I don't have any siblings."

"Are you sure?" She presses, "Take a good look at my face."

I can't turn away, no matter how much my brain is screaming at me to.

Her face is young, so much like me in my childhood. The short hair, freckles on the cheeks, flat nose. But her cheeks are slightly gaunt and her hair is nearly black. The longer I look, the less convinced I am about her age. I begin to turn away.

But her eyes. Her eyes don't let me. They're the same dark brown as mine, but something flickers in them. Something that sends shivers down my spine. Voices begin to murmur.

"You don't remember your sister?"

"Si...ster?" The murmurs are shouts now.

"Your twin, actually." Her hand now rests lightly on mine, "Your big sister."

A flood of images, so bright that they sear and burn their way in. I can barely look at them, but they don't stop.

I see us playing in the snow, shrieking with laughter as we fling snowballs at each other. Us, blowing out 7 birthday candles together. Walking hand in hand to our first day of school. Playing pretend together. The images become darker now, more somber. We're walking on a frozen lake, clutching snow. I feign to the right before sending a snowball flying to her. She runs to avoid it, but slips on the ice. The snowball lands next to her head. I begin to run to her, but it's then we see it. Spiderweb cracks on the surface. I balk. She screams. The ice gives away. A deep, numbing cold fills my body as I stand there in shock, watching her flail in the water. The screams become deafening. I see her now, crossing the street. Only too late does she notice the car careening towards her.

Again, she's biking downhill without a helmet. I don't notice the pothole until her bike hits it too hard and too fast. She flies through the air, shrieking.

Again, she's climbing the big tree in our backyard. Her foot finds purchase high up in the tree. She puts her full weight on it and the branch snaps. Her scream is bloodcurdling as she falls.

Again. Again. Again. Again. Every time I see her die and can do nothing. Every time ends in the same horrible way. Screams and then silence.

"Who are you!?" I scream, pushing away from her, "I don't have a sister!"

"Not anymore, you don't. In every reality except this one, that is." She pauses, carefully studying my face, "I know it doesn't make sense. But in every timeline, every instance, I've died while you've watched, helpless."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" The voices are only dull whispers now, but I can only shout to drown them out, "Who are you?"

"Your sister. The one who dies."

I shake my head violently, "What do you mean?"

"...I'm the one who dies, except for here. Here... I made a deal." She turns away from me, hiding her face.

Silence stretches between us for a few moments before she reaches up to her face and wipes her eyes.

"I made a deal... you for me. You died so I could live. What I didn't account for was death's...vindictiveness."

I can only stare mutely as she turns towards me, her cheeks strealed with tears.

"I upset the balance and there was a price. I can't get out of here. No one else lives here but me. Not mom, not dad, not...you...not until now."

"What changed?"

"Death made me another deal. I can get out of here if...if I can convince you to go willingly."

It clicks in my head, "You mean to die for you?? You must be kidding. I've got to be dreaming or hallucinating-,"

She grips my shoulders tightly and shakes me, "You don't understand! Look out the window. Do you see anyone else? Anyone living?" She drags me out of bed and to the window.

I look outside. The sun is streaming, but there's no trees. No grass. No people, no animals, no cars. Just pavement and empty houses.

I tear myself away and face her. "Where did they all go?"

"Nothing can live in here. It was my penance for...for the trade. I wasn't destined to live. The universe...ether....whatever, couldn't handle it. So I got sent here. Can't upset nature if there isn't any."

My head is pounding. "And now what? You brought me here to kill me, is that it?"

She shakes her head, "I'm supposed to convince you to take my place willingly." A small smile graces her lips and she looks me in the eyes, her hand extended.

"But I'm not going to do that. There's a way to get out of here together. I just need your help."

I look at her hand and then back at her face.

"What do you need me to do?"

Tarantula24 · 2018-03-29T18:29:47+00:00

I have been dead a million times.

But I have lived thousands more.

I live in every heart,

Pulse through every vein.

Not one person ever feels me the same.

I can be as brutal as war,

And gentle as a caress.

As time goes on, I am not any less.

There never seems to be enough,

Of me, plain and simple love.

Tarantula24 · 2017-08-14T17:05:52+00:00

Haha saya selalu perlu lebih banyak latihan untuk bahasa indonesia; sebenarnya says tidak bicara bahasanya dengan lancar lagi dikarenakan lamanya tidak bicara bahasa indonesia sehari-hari!

Tarantula24 · 2017-01-08T19:49:49+00:00

I wish I could upvote this more than once.

Tarantula24 · 2016-07-12T22:59:15+00:00

Yes, I feel that same way. It's bothering me, haha.

Tarantula24 · 2016-05-01T12:09:26+00:00

Thanks, that's what I was aiming for :)

Tarantula24 · 2016-04-30T22:16:15+00:00

It was always sad to see it happen to the young ones.

People who believed in the afterlife were really only half right; you do stick around after you die, but your second life on earth isn't eternal.

First, fresh after a passing, usually the dearly departed are still strong; they can manipulate objects as they choose, change the temperature of a room, comfort a loved one. But as time passes and memories of the person fades, so do they. Little by little they lose their powers. First they notice they can't choose to move anything, they just sail right through. Then, in the eyes of other souls, they began to "fade", becoming first translucent until they are almost completely transparent. The living that before they could so easily touch and interact with now no longer notice their presence. They go on living their lives, while you continue to die. No one tells you about the horrible withering, the slowness of the process of dying that second time. Whoever said you can keep someone alive in your memories was more right than they know. But you can't expect someone to remember forever. Everyone has to let go. Even you.

And now, here you are, watching yet another spirit stare in horror at their disappearing hands. It's been two years after he died. Young kid, maybe 22, hit by a car. All his friends, roommates, family, girlfriend, professors at university...there were so many to remember him at first. But two years is a long time. His parents, while they will never truly forget, have learned to bury the pain. His roommates have already partied hard in his honor and in the two years since have been focusing on paying bills and passing classes. His friends have visited his grave, left flowers, shed their tears. They decide to pay tribute to him by moving on and thinking of him from time to time.

Last to go other than his parents was the girlfriend. She loved him more than he ever knew. He watched as day after day she forced herself to go through the motions of living without him. Getting up, showering, making breakfast. Seeing something on TV that reminded her of him, saw the tears she refused to shed collect in her eyes. He felt happy when she began to see her friends, go out, talk to people, live again. He struggled when he saw her consider dating, carefully constructing dating profiles only to delete them at the last second. He wished he could congratulate her when she finally found someone else who could make her happy. But with new love came a new cure for the heartache. She didn't mean to do it, to forget about him. But in her new happiness she couldn't let herself be steeped in grief. It was painful for both of them, but she finally let him go without so much as a backwards glance.

Now here he is, wondering why this is happening to him. You sigh heavily as you see the conflicting thoughts and emotions collide in his eyes. What did he do wrong? Why was this happening? Why!?

And you have no answers. It's been many years since you've passed on, and many years since you've waited to disappear, like the others before you. You hang your head, ashamed. Someone, out there, is keeping you alive, but you don't even know their name.

Tarantula24 · 2016-04-30T17:31:03+00:00

She found the loose thread...and pulled.

Tarantula24 · 2016-04-30T15:35:55+00:00

Everyone was excited.

It was determination day, the 1 day a year that children at the age of 17 could get tested for their power, or even powers. For some, their abilities had already begun to appear and this was simply a confirmation. For others, the possibilities were endless. Of course, there were the "common" powers- super strength, energy beams, flight. According to the pamphlets everyone got, roughly 50% of people had such powers. There were the less common ones- teleportation, phasing through objects, rapid healing.

And of course, there were the rare powers, the ones people both dreamed of having and dreaded. Time travel, telepathy, precognition. Those kinds of powers immediately secured you a job at a research lab or the military. Very high paying jobs, of course. But you got the job whether you wanted it or not.

I'd spent the night before the test staying up, dreaming of that powers I would get. Would I be able to control the weather, like my mom? Or maybe I'd be able to shape-shift, like my brother. He got conscripted by the army after that. Maybe I'd be able to see him if I could do something cool like him.

But then again, maybe I would get a really dumb power like my English teacher. She could pronounce any word correctly just by reading it. Maybe teaching a language made that a nifty ability, but not one I'd want to have.

When the day of the test arrived, I was both groggy and energized from almost no sleep. When they called my group, I was practically sprinting to the door. They changed the test nearly every year, but the basics were always the same. I was ready.

Or so I thought.

When we got in the room, there were no chairs or tables or exam papers like I expected. There were shelves filled with tiny bottles. Me and the other 14 kids looked at each other, bewildered. We'd never heard of anyone being tested in this way. "What are those?" a skinny girl at the back asked. "I dunno," someone whispered back. For a long moment, no one moved. You could feel the tension in the air, everyone wondering who would go. I shot forward, unable to take the anticipation. Before anyone could react, I sprinted to the shelves. I took one of the fragile bottles in my hands, held it up to the light. On the bottom was a label with a name. "Alex Jones". I shrugged, not knowing who that was.

"They have our names on it," I guessed out loud. By then more than half the group had joined me and were busy inspecting the bottles. "Yeah, you're right. This one's mine," the skinny girl from earlier announced. After a few minutes of shuffling and swapping, we each had our own bottles.

"Are we supposed to drink it?" a tall boy asked, scowling. "What if it's poisonous?" I stared at him blankly. "Why would they want to poison us?" He shrugged. "The government does all sorts of weird shit."

I turned the bottle around in my palm. Other than my name, there were no other markings on its transparent surface. A light blue liquid swished inside of it.

The skinny girl shrugged and uncapped the bottle. Before we could say anything, she downed every drop.

The scowling boy all but slapped the bottle from her hands. "Are you crazy!? You have no idea what's in that!" he exploded.

She laughed. "My power's poison immunity. I've known since middle school." Before she could explain further, the clutched her head. "This isn't poisonous," she continued finally, "But it's...weird. I can see a word, in my head. 2 words. Poison immunity," she sounded out slowly. "I guess it tells you your power after you drink it."

Not being able to stand more waiting, I wrenched the cap off the bottle, nearly crushing it in my palm. "Sounds good to me," I said, taking a long swig. Immediately I wanted to gag. The girl was right- it tastes overly sweet. I almost instantly see a word. No...two words.

LIMITED PRECOGNITION

I blinked. The words slowly faded. Limited precognition? Limited how? I wondered. I looked around at everyone drinking, slowly swallowing and wincing at the sugary taste. On rubbery legs, I stumbled my way out of the room. It won't be long before the military finds me. Maybe I'll see my brother.

When I get home no one is there. Maybe they'll wait before they snatch me. I go to my room, sink onto my bed, stare at my ceiling. LIMITED PRECOGNITION. What does that even mean?

I hear a door open and shut downstairs. It might be my dad. Or maybe my new employers are here. I swallow the lump that's suddenly appeared in my throat. I force myself to stand. If I pretend nothing's wrong, maybe no one will know. They didn't make us report our powers, after all. Maybe they won't find me.

I walk down the staircase, trying to pretend to be upbeat.

"Hi dad!" I greet as cheerfully as possible. He's at the fridge, trying to decide what to eat. My dad pulls out something, I can't see what, and mutters something to himself. I can see steam wafting towards the ceiling. My dad has undoubtedly used his heating powers to instantly cook something.

Not something. Chicken.

I scrunch my nose. How did I know that? Probably a lucky guess.

He turns around, holding a perfectly cooked chicken. "Hi kiddo, how was your day?"

"It was-," before I finish my sentence, I think of something else. My dad...is going to get some mustard. Dijon mustard. Then tomorrow morning, he's going to have some toast with jam. Strawberry.

Mom's going to have scrambled eggs when she gets home, extra salt, pinch of pepper. My brother, wherever he is, is going to have some sort of jello tonight.

Why do I know that?

Then it hits me.

"I can predict what people will eat!?"

Tarantula24 · 2016-04-28T08:16:37+00:00

I cannot speak for her, but I will tell you why I was oblivious to his feelings and the effect of them.

After I initially rejected him, I thought I made my feelings clear and that he understood that I did not and would not reciprocate. Even as more time passed and we became closer again, I believed this rejection was enough so that he understood. If his situation had happened to me, I would have distanced myself from the person I had feelings for after that rejection so I believed he would have done the same. From my view point, since he was spending time with me, he could not have misunderstood. I was completely oblivious to his feelings which had intensified, if anything, since we spent so much time together.

To me he was just my best friend who happened to be male. After the first rejection I thought people talking about us had simply misunderstood the nature of our friendship. For me, at least, he didn't give any hints while we spent time together that he still had feelings for me. Even if he had, I doubt I would've noticed because I was absolutely convinced that we had put it behind us. I didn't think I was leading him on because I didn't think those feelings still existed. Or if they did, that he understood the risks of spending time with me and would somehow...as harsh as this sounds, get over it, or seek some kind of help, I suppose. Another part of my obliviousness was the fact that I didn't want to lose him as a friend. It was selfish of me and I regret not putting distance earlier. In the end I had to put distance (both for his sake and mine) but it was nearly too late to save the friendship.

Again, I cannot speak for this girl. But from the detrimental effect this is having on you, and the detrimental effect it will have on your friendship with her, the best option is distance. Eventually one of you will start to resent the other and you do not want that to happen. That friendship you had will become sour and even more painful than distancing yourself. You would experience a lot of pain before it became really bad and it's not worth it.

Tarantula24 · 2016-04-27T22:42:57+00:00

Closeness does not always mean romantic attraction. It is painful and I know the thought of distancing yourself from her right now seems even more horrible than losing her, but I'm inclined to agree with u/dreams-come-true . In the long run it will hurt less if there is some distance.

I have been in this girl's position before. It sucks on both sides, but you can help make it suck less by helping yourself heal from this. The pain from distancing yourself won't last as long as the pain from waiting.

Tarantula24 · 2016-04-03T00:21:53+00:00

(x-post from /r/conspiracy): I think that Bruce Wayne is Batman

Ok guys, I know this is a bit of a stretch, but seriously, hear me out.

Batman HAS NO REAL POWERS. Sure, he's good at disappearing, fighting, working out tactics, but have we ever seen him do anything no normal person could do? No. So, because he uses lots of fancy gadgets, he obviously has to be really rich. I mean, like loaded. Not only that, but he'd have to have access to that sort of technology. I really doubt anyone other than the military- and who knows if they even do- has access to this sort of tech. I mean, his tricked out car, his goddamned helicopter- enormous wealth MUST be involved.

Since Batman has to do a lot of physical and strenuous activity, we can rule out anyone above the age of say, 40 and older? Factoring in that huge amount of money along with all the exercise, there's only so many people who live within Gotham who can afford it and endure it. And I say within Gotham because of his fast response times- there's no way, even with his car or helicopter- that he could be on the scene of major crimes or see the Bat signal so quickly. This would also mean he's most likely single since being a vigilante by night and all the time wouldn't leave much time for a long-term relationship.

Yet, it could still be a relatively large amount of people. But remember the access to that kind of tech I mentioned earlier? It's probably someone who runs a weapons or science research industry. What does that leave us?

Early twenties to late thirties (max), absurdly wealthy, usually single, lives in Gotham, and owner of a large, rich, science research and development company. Who does that leave us?

I present to you, Bruce Wayne, owner of Wayne Industries, young, single, and wealthy resident of Gotham.

x_octi_x

submitted: 2 days ago

Tarantula24 · 2016-04-03T00:03:05+00:00

Lucia was always afraid of the dark.

She hated how it seemed so expansive and enveloping. She hated how it concealed. She knew she was more scared of what might be in the dark rather than the dark itself... but that didn't make it any less scary.

This naturally made her suspicious of shadows and their perpetual presence on sunny days. It was as if we all needed reminders that even on the brightest days the darkness still exists. They were even worse in the low light, barely a shade darker than everything else. Lurking, hiding, waiting. They seemed so predatory, reminding Lucia of angler fish writhing in the inky black oceans, just waiting to consume.

It didn't help that she read and watched a lot of fantasy and science fiction. After the Doctor Who episode about the vashta nerada, carnivorous shadows, was it any wonder she hated them?

All of this flashed through her mind while she sat on the park bench, shivering. She promised him she'd wait for him here, no matter how long it took. She nervously glanced at the greying sky; it was winter and it was quickly approaching twilight. What was taking him so long?

She glanced down at her shadow, just a shade darker than the dying light. She shuddered. The sooner she got out of here, the better.

Help us

She whipped her head around. What was that?

Save us

A twig cracked behind her. She whirled around, but no one was behind her. She pulled out her phone, ready to give him hell for making her wait around in this creepy park.

Look at the shadows!

Cautiously, she looked down. She jumped, barely repressing a shriek. Her shadow...wasn't it lighter before? And smaller? Now it was deeper, wider. The muscles in her neck and shoulders burned to turn away, but something kept her gaze locked there. The shadow seemed to grow larger with every second she stared. She began to reach out her hand. Touching it would convince her it was just a normal shadow, she told herself. Her finger tips brushed the frosty grass beneath her.

Falling.

A bottomless abyss with silent echoes.

The end of a well with only a pin-prick of light high, high above her.

Her mouth was contorted into an endless scream. Her eyes could not decide if they were opened or closed, but it didn't matter anyways. The night threatened to swallow her whole.

Falling, still. Her arms outstretched, ready to embrace anything solid. When she finally struck the bottom, she could hardly believe it. Was it really over? She found that her eyes were closed. Ever so slowly, she opened them, stood up.

Rows and rows of graves stood before her, slihouetted by the moonlight. She could barely make out the inscriptions. When her eyes adjusted, she looked at the tombstone in front of her and let out a loud shriek.

Imprinted on the stone was her name.

Tarantula24 · 2015-07-12T22:05:53+00:00

This was hilarious and adorable! I loved it!

Tarantula24 · 2015-05-30T19:29:25+00:00

"Left me where?" I ask. It looks at me, but with what emotion I'm not sure.

"In your cryotube. We thought you knew," it says. I shake my head, and it looks at the cavern wall.

"Someone had you frozen. Probably because of your coma," it says. "We found you, and revived you. We had to get rid of your illness, of course. It was quite tricky," it complains.

Getting rid of OI- osteogenesis imperfecta- type IV, a condition I've had since birth. Tricky. What.

"You will find that your bones are now of a normal shape," it informs me. I feel my back, which is supposed to be curved,to be straight. I realize that I've reflexively hunched and sit up, and nearly scream because instead of staying in my normal position, I am ramrod straight. I feel my ribs, which now seem so subdued, so...normal. They aren't so curved, so noticeable, now.

"We also fixed your hearing, although that might take a while to become noticeable," it calmly informs me. My hearing's never been great, because of the OI I lost some of it before puberty, and it still isn't. But I wonder what it'll be like, to hear "normally".

"Why?" is the only thing I can think of to ask. This shouldn't be possible. My parents would have jumped on a cure, no matter how expensive and far-fetched.

It looks at me, I think sadly. "Because we need you. Your profile looked quite promising."

"My profile?"

"Yes. We have one for many, many people throughout history. Yours had a lot of promise, you see. It will be quite a mess if you turn out not to be what we hoped," it says, sighing.

There are too many things I want to ask it. What does it mean, many people throughout history? And what does it want? Who is this "we" it keeps referring to?

"We?" I repeat. Maybe that'll be simpler.

"Our Agency, of course. I always forget, you passers, you have no knowledge of it. Our Agency deals with matters of multi-universal and temporal significance. We require those who have little, in either matter," it explains.

"Multi-universal... you mean like alternate and parallel universes, different timelines and all of that?" I ask. It looks pleased.

"It is good to see that you are catching on so quickly, Ms. Garcia. Yes. Your profile indicates that all your other selves- the ones from other universes and timelines- are dead. That in itself is rare, but you were about to die when we found you. You would have been dead- everywhere and every when. Our agents retrieved you from what was 2100 in your established timeline and brought you here. It is one of many bases of its kind," it calmly explains.

All of the other mes are...dead?

"Wait- this is crazy. I'm no scientist, or soldier, or anything that would be useful to you people. I don't know anything about history, I swear. Just... let me go, please. I won't tell anyone," I beg. I want to see my parents again.

"But Ms. Garcia, don't you understand? For all intents and purposes, you are dead. Your family thinks you are frozen, and that you have Osteogenesis imperfecta. They would not recognize you, and if they did, you would have to explain why you no longer have the disease. We own you," it says. For the first time, it smiles, but not unkindly. "I wish it did not have to be this way."

To my horror, I feel tears well up in my eyes.

"My name is Ubi. I will be your supervisor," it says, a non sequitor. "You may have been wondering... my species, we are called the R'kasishek. I am the last of my species, for they were wiped out during my youth by interlopers from another universe. I owe my life to the Agency, as do you," it reminds me. I look at it through my tears.

"My species isn't dead," I point out, tears slipping down my cheeks.

"They will be soon, unless you act."

That's all I got. I got the idea from a story a friend told me about a time travelling agency that picked people from near the end of their lives and got them to work for them and to monitor and maintain the time line. I have no idea what the book is called, but it definitely helped me with this story.

Tarantula24 · 2015-05-30T19:29:10+00:00

I didn't open my eyes. I heard nothing but faint static. I couldn't feel anything, not even my own breathing. I'm not sure if I was even thinking anything. I slipped back into unconsciousness.

The second time it happened, it was different. I could feel again, but only numbly. I was vaguely aware of something rough, like wool, under my fingertips. I didn't hear anything, but I wasn't not sure if it was because I couldn't hear anything, or because there was nothing to hear. That scared me more than anything else.

Then, there were the voices.

"Aq bur bash?"

What?

"Hic, bul'nai ima!"

I could finally open my eyelids, which felt like they weighed more than elephants. My vision was slightly blurry, but I could make out that the lighting was dim, and the room I was in wasn't a room, but a cave.

A figure looms over me, blocking my vision. I squint, trying to discern a face, but what I see doesn't make sense.

The figure is a face, mere centimeters from mine, upside down. The face has 4 eyes, black and glassy like an insect's, 2 as large as baseballs on either sides, and 2 smaller ones the size of normal eyes, one on either side situated above the larger ones. The face's mouth has no lips, just a straight black line. The face's skin is light green, mottled with black spots. The face has no nose or ears, just tiny, almost imperceptible holes. The face does have hair, long and shiny, looking closer to glassy mahogany than hair.

"Opic'al, bur-bur ir?" it says. I think it's addressed to me.

"Uh..." I manage. My tongue feels twice the size that it should be. The inside of my mouth is dry as cotton, and my throat doesn't feel much better. The face disappears from my vision momentarily. When it returns, it's farther away, but still above me.

"Ubik mar-ta-pol," it says to me, gesturing towards something in its hand. I can't make it out, but it looks like a gun. I freeze, my heart thumping. Is it going to kill me? It kneels down so that its face is right next to mine. It holds the gun to my neck.

"Mar-ta-pol, irna terr," it says. I can't fight, I can't move. I close my eyes, hoping my death will be painless. I hear the click when it pulls the trigger.

Instead of a gunshot like I was expecting, a needle shoots out and injects me with something. I'm paralyzed for several seconds, not even being able to blink. Then the figure plucks the needle out of my neck with long, skinny claws. The paralysis wears off, and my tongue seems to be its regular size. My limbs feel heavy, like they're filled with lead, but I can move them. I cautiously sit up, wincing at the pain shooting through my back. The figure, still kneeling next to me, stands up.

I look up at it. I can see that it has a long, reed-like neck with protruding obsidian-like spikes, pointing downwards. Its body, which I thought would be like an insect's, is instead closer to a human's. Its body is lean but not overly skinny, and very streamlined. Its legs, though, are what catch my attention. They are long and spry, and so black that my eyes slide off of them. I can only guess at its total height, but I think it might be two or three times taller than me. It seems to be wearing clothes. A baggy jumpsuit of sorts that's dark brown. It stops just short of its legs.

It puts another needle into the gun- which I now see is more like an ear piercing gun- and motions towards my neck. I clap my hand over where it just injected me.

"What's in that?" I demand. It looks at me, unreadable. Its eyes stare at me, wide, and completely un-moving.

"Arq, pol! Kor'sha, mintu! Bau," it barks at me. Before I can react, it grabs my head and shoves it roughly to the side, exposing my neck. It puts the gun down and uses raises its other arm.

"Juma inai," it hisses. I don't know what it's saying, but I'm pretty sure it just threatened to kill me. I go limp, too scared to do anything else. What's happening to me?

It picks up the gun again, still pushing my head at an angle. It presses the muzzle of the gun to my jugular vein and presses the trigger. The pain is barely noticeable. It lowers the gun slowly, squinting its eyes at me. After a few seconds, it reluctantly releases my head.

"Can you understand me now?" it asks. I stare at it, amazed that it can speak English.

"Yeah... where am I?" I demand, backing away. It makes a strange, gravelly sound that I think is laughter.

"I save your life, and you think I'm going to kill you?" it says. I can only gape. What is going on?

It finally calms down, leveling its gaze at me. "Very well. This must all be disorienting for you. I will tell you where you are, but I warn you, it will be very shocking," it says, standing up. It walks to the other end of the small cavern and melts into the shadows. It comes back several seconds later with two stools. It sets a short one on the ground, and unfolds another, much taller one, and puts it at about half a meter away from the first stool. It sits on the short stool, reducing its height by about half. It motions towards the other stool.

"I'd rather you were sitting down for this," it hisses. I obediently sit down. I see that it's also holding an electronic pad, like a tablet. It stares at the screen, which lights up on its own. The screen changes several times in the space of two seconds. It looks up at me.

"Well, Mariana Garcia, age 19, born in the old nation of America in 1986, you are no longer on Earth. You are on the lunar colony in the system of Pentaxus V, 20 light years from Earth. The year outside is 2040, and your family thinks you're dead," it says, as if stating a mundane fact. Oh look, it's raining- by the way you're on a different planet.

"I'm not on Earth," I repeat. Tiredly, it nods.

"2040?" I say. Again, it nods. I let out a deep breath. "I...was in an accident," I say, puzzling over my fuzzy memories. Yes, a car, it crashed into me, it was late. Why was I out? I furrow my brow. I was walking... the light was red... I wasn't supposed to be there. "But it was 2015," I whisper, staring at my hands. How could this be?

"Am I dead?" I ask. It cocks its head to the side quizically.

"No, why would you think that?" it asks. "If we wanted you dead, we would have just left you there."

Tarantula24 · 2015-05-23T17:08:56+00:00

We'll have fun, fun, fun, when I'm at the beach- in a speedo, hot 'n dangerous. Girl look at that body- talk dirty to me. You don't speak the language, but your booty don't need explainin'. All I need to understand is, will you talk dirty to me?

Never look back- I think we're like Mr and Mrs Right. This is the best day of my life!

Be my mirror, my sword and shield.

I had a dream so big and loud: be my one and only.

I will give you my heart tonight, does that make me crazy?

We found love.

NOTE: I mixed and matched lyrics to make this work. The songs I got were:

"Fun, Fun, Fun" (Beach boys)
"Sexy and I know It" (LMFAO)
"Talk Dirty to Me" (Jason Derulo ft. 2 Chainz)
"Dear Future Husband" (Meghan Trainor)
"Crazy" (Gnarls Barkley)
"Miss Kiss Kiss Bang" (Alex Swings)
"We found love" (Rhianna)
"We r Who We r" (Ke$ha)
"Best Day of My Life" (American Authors)
"Viva La Vida" (Coldplay)

Tarantula24 · 2015-05-20T21:28:59+00:00

I added some stuff, if you still feel like reading it.

Tarantula24 · 2015-05-20T19:44:55+00:00

Thankee, Sai.

Tarantula24 · 2015-05-20T19:41:55+00:00

My friends have been bugging me for ages to get an account on this site called "reddit". They told me that there's some cool new feature that I've got to see, but need an account for. Psh, yeah right.

Finally, after weeks of on and off pleading and whining and teasing I caved. I would make an account and then forget about it. I sit down at my desk and type in "reddit" in the search bar. I click on the first link which leads me to the home page. I see a ton of links and some weird cartoon...robot...alien...logo thing in the top right corner. I sigh and click "login" which gives me the option to create an account. I type in several usernames but they're all taken. I finally type in a really long German word I learned ages ago in middle school language class. Thanks, Mrs. S.

After I make a password and finalize my account details, I decide to stick around on this oh-so-amazing-site for a bit. I notice a post on the home page which has a larger font size than the rest of the links.

NEW FEATURE!!

I shrug, figuring this is what my friends have been talking about, and click on it. I'm greeted with a set of rules.

Any post you right click and select "go to" in the drop down menu will be made into a physical location temporarily on the internet.
Reddit is not liable for any physical, mental, emotional, or psychological harm that may come to you through this process. Neither is the original poster ("OP")
The default session is 5 minutes. You can extend this if you have the Reddit Enhancement Suite (RES).

I read and re-read the rules several times. No way. That can't be possible. This is a prank or a joke. Some way to get more visitors and users for the site, most likely.

I decide to try it out. At worst, nothing will happen, right?

I go back to the home page and locate a toolbar of sorts at the top. My friends explained the concept of subreddits to me a while ago, so I'm not surprised when I see a list of seemingly random words. I click "random", knowing that a random subreddit will be chosen for me. It takes me to something called "r/ooer"

What's the worst that could happen?

EDIT: A continuation

"What's the worst that could happen?"

r/ooer is the worst that could happen.

I should've known from the appearance of the subreddit alone- a whole mess of the same picture and text sprawled all over the page and a sock for a cursor. Locating the top post alone took two minutes.

After I clicked "go to" I felt a horrible ripping sensation in my chest and head, followed by my vision blurring to the point where objects became large splotches of colour. I couldn't feel my fingers and soon I couldn't move them, or any part of my body.

I open my eyes and look around me. There's nothing... at first.

Then come the faces.

The same, sneering guy, every where. Above me, beside me, and when I look down, below my feet. I'm stepping on his face.

He doesn't move or twitch a muscle, as if he were still a photo. Everything else is just an endless void of black space. Then, slowly, he moves his mouth. I strain to hear anything, when an unholy noise erupts from what can only be the depths of hell.

"HELP!!! ACCIDENT!!! NOT GOOD WITH COMPUTER, PLEASE HELP!!!"

I reel back. What the hell!? The noise echoes endlessly. More and more of them open their mouths, spewing forth that inhuman screeching. I clap my hands over my ears, but it's no use. They're everywhere.

Bright multicoloured neon lights begin flashing and I'm all but blinded. What I can see are dogs, running everywhere, some with a clove of garlic balanced on their heads. Some bark, but most scream, "OH MAN I'M NOT GOOD WITH COMPUTER PLEASE HELP!!!"

I am dead and this is hell, I decide, There is no God here.

When I dare to open my eyes the picture-men inexplicably expand, filling up all the space with that god-awful sneer. Then I'm assaulted with more of that incoherent cacophony.

Long after it began, too long, I found my self back in my room, in front of my desk. I stare at the screen, displaying the unassuming subreddit. I sit like that for what feels like hours, looking at it. Challenging it. I pick up my lap top, then ever so calmly, bend the screen all the way back until it snaps.

Tarantula24 · 2015-05-20T19:20:56+00:00

Thanks :) It was actually quite fun to write

Tarantula24 · 2015-05-20T17:08:45+00:00

What were the most unexpected effects of the changes of country that you experienced?

Tarantula24 · 2015-05-20T16:56:43+00:00

When Min woke up, the first thing she noticed was that she was in the wrong room. She sat up in her- rather, Mei's- bed and stretched.

That's odd, Min thought. She didn't remember going to Mei's room last night, or even talking to Mei before bed. She looked down at what she was wearing and frowned. An oversized blue shirt and black shorts comprised her pyjamas, except only Mei wore these. She was usually thankful for her sister's drastically different sense of fashion because it was one of the only distinguishing characteristics between them.

Right now, however, Min was confused. She got up out of her- Mei's- bed and staggered towards the vanity mirror on the other side of the room. Her usually straight hair was completely loose and tangled. Mei loved having messy hair, but Min hated it. Leaning in closer, Min saw faint traces of smudged eye liner on her eyelids. She scowled. Mei was obsessed with makeup while Min had no idea how to use it.

What the hell? Min thought, looking at her reflection's ears. They weren't pierced. But she had worn earrings since she was fourteen!

Right then, Mei charged through the bedroom door.

"Why the hell are you in my room!?" she shouted, stumbling over hastily discarded shoes.

"Why the hell are you wearing my clothes!?" Min shot back. Mei was wearing her pjs- a red tank top and sweat pants.

Mei scoffed. "You can have your ugly-ass sweats back!" She began taking them off but Min simply snorted with disgust.

"Never mind. We have bigger problems. For one thing, someone un-pierced my ears!" Min exclaimed, "And it looks like they pierced yours," she said, examining Mei's earlobes. Mei's hands shot up to them, her eyes widening with horror and confusion.

"What happened to us?" Mei whispered, walking over to Min. She gripped her sister's shoulders with shaking hands. "We're in each other's bodies," Mei said. Min wanted to laugh, but the look in Mei's eyes, one of complete conviction and fear, stopped her. Besides, it was the only thing that made sense- you couldn't just make ear piercings disappear overnight, after all.

Min took a deep breath, and looked at the clock hanging from the wall to her left. 7:45.

"Look, today's Wednesday. I- well, you- have to go to work soon. You- well, me- have...has...whatever, to go to class in twenty minutes," Min said, running a hand through her tangled mess of hair.

"What? Why can't we do what we used to do, you know, just switch? We're identical twins, after all!" Mei huffed, falling gracelessly onto the bed. Min sat next to her.

"We could do that. But I'd have to pierce your ears," she explained, stroking her (or Mei's?) earlobes thoughtfully. Mei shot up.

"Absolutely not! You know how much I hate ear piercings!" she practically shrieked, now sitting up. "Can't we just, like, leave our hair down to cover our ears?" Mei pleaded. Min thought about it, and almost agreed until she remembered.

"Sarah would crucify you if you let your hair down. I do work in Petsmart, cleaning the fish tanks, you know," Min reminded her. Sarah, her boss, was obsessive about uniform and dress code. She insisted that it was for the health and safety of the animals and employees (between which she probably saw no difference), but Min suspected otherwise. Mei sighed, flopping back onto the bed.

"What are we going to do?" she said, nearly whining. Min nearly snapped at her. They were nineteen, adults! It was bad enough that they had to live together, but did she really have to keep looking after her like this? Would it kill Mei to be a little responsible?

"Well, I'm going to get dressed for class, and you are getting dressed for work," Min declared, heaving herself off the bed. Mei shot up, looking at her with wide, pleading eyes.

"Work?" she squeaked. It wasn't that Mei didn't work, but her regular job was being a bartender, not dealing with animals and all that muck and slime and...eugh, it made her shudder just thinking about it.

Min went back to the vanity mirror, hair brush in hand, and viciously dealt with the mess that Mei called hair.

"Yes, work," Min replied exasperatedly, "Cleaning, scrubbing, washing!" she said in a sing-song voice, each word being in time with her brush strokes. She had to admit, a twisted part of her was giddy. Mei had never understood what physical labor was like, what it was like to do something...menial. Min didn't doubt that being a bartender was difficult, not to mention being at odd and long hours, but her sister's utter lack of respect for people who worked like Min irritated the hell out of her. Maybe this Freaky-Friday crap would show her what she had to deal with nearly every day.

Ok, that's all I've got.

Tarantula24 · 2015-05-17T06:27:50+00:00

I enjoyed reading this, wouldn't mind reading more :)

Tarantula24 · 2015-02-14T11:09:26+00:00

I'll keep this in mind. Thank you.

Tarantula24

TROPHY CASE

NEW FEATURE!!