Permanent Repeat

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

A person is trapped in a world of one ever lasting day. This story dives into their psyche and uncover s how this person is able to cope with this strange reality.

I wake up. I'm laying on my bed staring straight up sprawled out on my back. The ceiling fan has become unstable and is whirling around madly. The only noises are that of the fan and a low volume television that has not been turned off in years. Its the static. The static noises and sights are comforting to me. It helps to keep me from going crazy. I lurch out of bed, accidentally starting out on the wrong foot for the trillionth trillionth trillionth time in a row. "DAMNIT!" I said to myself. "From the second my eyes popped open I knew I was going to have a shit day". It is very important to me which foot I start off on every morning. The feet change from day to day. Its randomized. Which foot will be my right foot this time? Which is the wrong one? I never know until its over. Sabotaged before I even got a chance.

 I raised slowly off the bed. Taking twenty two seconds to stand fully up. I am starting to raise slowly with my face pointed toward the floor. I slowly lift my head while an enormous smile creeps across my face. I stare blankly at my closed window with the uneven blinds. My eyes growing wider as my face begins to contort eerily. "I'm awake.” I said. As I said these words the pitch of my voice slowly climbed until it reached a strange and unsettling tone that, combined with my face could rattle even the most hardened man to the core. "This makes one trillion five hundred times." I said in a sporadic fashion. "One trillion five hundred days I've woken up on the same exact date." I knew it was true. I did not even have to look at the calendar on my phone anymore. I looked anyway. Like I always did. It is part of my routine. I shuffled around my pocket for the phone. The way it was positioned in my pocket was rather queer. I struggled to get the phone out. Simple tasks like this are hard for me sometimes. It's hard to focus on the real world when most of myself is trapped inside my head. A space of thought different from the outside world. It is like a world of its own.

 I finally got the phone out from my pocket and turned it on. It has less than one percent battery life as always. I knew I only had about five seconds to check the date on the phone before it died. Every time it gets to this part I become paralysed with fear. "What if I don't get to see the date?" I thought quickly. "I have to know... I NEED to know. I can't just not know. That's insane! This is insane! I need to know the fucking date!!!" I screamed out loud. The calendar came up. It was January 12th. 8:02 am just like always. I sighed a sigh of great relief and collapsed on the bed. I had to take awhile to process my emotions and get myself together again. Thirty minutes later I got out of bed, doing the same slow stand up motion I did before. I shamble toward my window and open it. I look out the window with sanity draining in my eyes and said, "This world... its all wrong... everything in it... is... a lie. A fallacy. A lie of a lie of a lie. I can't do it anymore. This is breaking me... this..." I stopped short of finishing my sentence. My eyes glazing over as I robotically walk out my bed room door. I've long since stopped leaving the house. Why ever leave when everything outside is the same exact thing day after day? The same world on permanent repeat. I'd rather stay where it's safe. Inside my own head. I have to see how deep it goes!

This world of swirling thoughts, feelings and emotions never changes and never ends. A vast sea of words and ideas crashes upon the shores of my mind. Its the only thing that changes from day to day. I continue to automatically walk around the house. Doing my morning routine without thinking. Without being present at all. I've done the same exact thing so many times now that my morning routine goes by on it's own. I am on autopilot. The only hard part is the phone. I do not know why. But once that is over its smooth sailing from there. 

It's like watching a movie. A movie where you think you are the main character but so does everyone else." A world where each person thinks they are the best and if you arnt them then fuck you." "This is a world of madness" I said out loud. A world of pure and utter madness!" I threw my coffee cup down while in a mid pouring motion. It happens all by itself every time. "No! No, no, no this isn't true! It cant be true! Am I cursed!? Am I cursed with the fate of reliving the same day for all time!? To be stuck in the same world that treated me like a disposable maggot!? Using me and tossing me out without a second thought!? I said. I took a moment to calm myself. "A world filled with dogs chasing their own tales... That's all it amounts to." I said out loud in a far away sounding manner. I can't even die. I can't even live either. Its limbo. A limbo of pure hell trapped on this miserable planet. I partially snapped out of it for a second and realized I should probably clean up the mess I made. I saunter toward the dirty laundry hamper for a used towel to use to soak up my mess. I had to dig all the way to the bottom again just like every other time. It was a pain. The mere act of existing is a nuisance on it’s own let alone having to deal with crap like this on top of it." I thought to myself.

 After I had cleaned up the spill I poured a new cup of coffee and sat back down on my bed facing the television. The vision of salt and pepper static was calling to me. I slowly drifted off into the seemingly endless wave of static noise and static vision. As I did I slowly lost grip of the coffee cup and it spilled on the floor once more. "I could look into this TV for hours." I thought to myself. This was my past time. I try to predict the exact new frame image of static that were to appear after the previous one.I tried to predict what it would look like. The exact composition. The exact ratio of white to black splotches. I was getting good. After a few millions days of practice I was about to achieved a 100% accuracy rating. The frames were going by very fast but I am a master at time compression. Over the last 2,000,000,000 odd years I have mastered the abilities of my own mind to the point of being able to control how fast or how slowly I can experience time. I had memorized millions of static frames, each going by in a blur. This was the only way to have any fun. I sat there for nearly 24 hours doing this. I was on a huge streak. Exactly as the last millisecond of the day passed by I finally memorized every frame up until the very last one. A cold fear washed over my body instantly. "I knew what the last one was going to be... Oh my God... I... fully predicted the entire day's worth of static . What will I possibly do with my time now?" I had these thoughts within an infinitesimally small amount of time. My time compression was pushed to it's max. I knew the universe was about to reset again. I lost myself in a panic attack. A panic attack that only lasted a very small fraction of a millisecond but felt like forever to me.

I wake up. I am laying in my bed staring straight up sprawled out on my back. The ceiling fan has become unstable and is whirling around madly. I accidentally started off on the wrong foot for the trillionth trillionth trillionth and one time in a row. "DAMNIT!" I said to myself. "From the second my eyes popped open I knew I was going to have a shit day."


Submitted: July 17, 2016

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Brilliant story. Original concept, well written -- what else can I say!!

Sun, July 17th, 2016 6:23pm

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