[Content Warning: Momentary Nudity]
Log I - Day I
Hello to everyone from Reddit. I know this is my first post ever on this website, I'm very aware of that fact, so to clear the air allow me to tell you a bit about me. Furthermore, I apologize for any formatting mistakes. I'm currently typing this out on some random cellphone that I just so happened to find in the alleyway next to me. This aside, my name is Dillon.
My life has been nothing but shit from day one. I was born into poverty, which I know isn't unusual due to the vast majority of us being born into it. Nonetheless I found myself bullied relentlessly for it. If anything I was bullied for everything about me from my bright orange hoodie to my aspergers to my lack of wealth and even my naturally androgynous appearance. It lasted from kindergarten until high-school graduation.
As a result I never formed the ability to socialize that well with anyone, except for my first love Mikayla. I haven't seen her since middle school. In fact, I'm pretty sure she passed away long before I ever did. I still remember my own death, to a degree. The memory of it is hazy but I know the major beats of it.
I was alone. No one was around me save for my dog who was named after my first dog, Junior. It was probably early in the morning due to how messed up my sleep schedule had always been. It hurt, yeah, a whole hell of a lot.
My heart was sore, my throat was on fire, yet even then nothing in my reaction changed. I just got up, took Junior for a walk to the neighborhood where I grew up, came back home, got a drink, and went to bed. I'm pretty sure that my younger sister found my cadaver because I texted her before my slumber. Though I'm not sure what happened to it after she found it.
Knowing my family, I was likely buried. A few feet from the only two people I ever said I missed. My stepgrandpa, a man named Eddie who oddly enough looked just like Freddy Krueger, and my great grandpa who was a beloved preacher named John. It wasn't that long after my passing that I would wake up once more.
The smell of this place carried an odor so rancid and sweet, like the rot of decayed fruit, that it forced me to open whatever eyes I still had. No longer feeling the beard I had in life; I took note of the golden bangs, of my once raven hair, lying over the left side of my vision.
“Where am I?”
I softly whispered, my monotone huff echoing off the dense fog as I pushed myself up from the ground. A growl from my stomach forced me to my feet. My eyes, still studying the surroundings, looked down just in time to see my own nudity reflected back at me by way of several sights including my reflection in a puddle.
Having become far too cynical over the course of eight decades, I ignored the fact that I appeared to be in my twenties all over again as well as the nakedness. The streets beneath my feet seemed to mimic an exact, although mirrored, variant of my hometown. In Oakheart, the roads met in the center of town in a manner that made a pentacle. Though that wasn't by Satanic, let alone genuinely demonic, influence. It was entirely by accident. As a result Oakheart was celebrated in the county for its accidental uniqueness.
Even this variant of it has the same landmarks. Every street corner has a church, the local grocery store, the corporate grocery store, a few restaurants, and the high-school itself. All of them are present but on the exact opposite sides. Trees, natures, and vines seemed to be fighting against the brick hulls of every single building, including the pride of Oakheart. Oakheart County High had a tree growing from the dead center of it and mushrooms resting against the broken glass of every visible window.
The scent of rot grew stronger the closer I came to my alma mater. So too did my hunger. It almost overwhelmed me as I inspected the red, bulbous heads. Just as I was about to pluck one out by the stem, a voice called out to me. One that my soul recognized and my spirit mourned.
Just as I turned around to see who told me not to eat the shroom, the presence had vanished. All that remained was my old hoodie, even as it lay in the alleyway covered in dirt I threw the orange mess over my fragile form, and the cellphone I used to tell you guys about this.
I genuinely have no idea how this phone has a signal. It seems to only be able to access Reddit and YouTube. So at least now, someone knows what happened to me. I'll probably post after exploring some more. Maybe I'll find the source of that voice.
If anyone knows where I am, what happened to bring me to this version of Oakheart, I would love to know but my own pride won't allow me to be told the answer. I have to figure this out on my own.
I hope you understand.