|
This day has been too strange. I began it coming to this village. I don't even know why ... well, I mean, I do but it doesn't make sense. Why am I wandering the woods looking for adventure and certain death when I could be at home living for a few hundred years in peace? Home. I barely remember it. Woods, some people who might be family but all I have are names, not faces. Did I have pets? Childhood friends? It's all ... nothing. Worse than a blank, just a void in my head. It's like I shouldn't care.
I've got some really long name my friends can't pronounce. But that's OK, I can't either most of the time. Why doesn't that scare me? I've asked them about friends, and pets, but their answers are hesitant. Dalrei's changed from last week and he now claims his pet dog was named Rover, not Charlie.
We're walking through woods and I keep feeling something bad will happen. I don't know why, but the thunder ... the thunder reminds me of dice. And the weather is wrong. We get good or bad, nothing in between. There's almost no animals. The world feels ... thin. I only really notice it oddly, from time to time, like looking out a window or suddenly having everything come into focus for no reason. I don't even know the type of tree I'm looking at right now.
I can't remember the names of my grandparents.
We've just killed some people. I'm five times as old as the human and he fights better than I do. Why can't I explain this? I don't even know why we killed them, but we just knew they were bandits when we saw them. Why did that attack us, who are armed to the teeth? Literally, in the wolf-man's case. I don't know. It's like that band of goblins in the marsh ... why were they there? They didn't look like they were foraging. Not that we do either. We never run out of food. We jusy buy it and it never spoils or gets heavy.
The bard sang songs earlier. I don't remember any. Or any heroes. Am I even an elf? I don't know anything about my people! The others are just as confused, but I guess they hide it better, and don't notice how knowledge just pops into our heads from nowhere. I don't remember what I had for breakfast yesterday, or who cooked it. The hole inside me gets bigger the more I know.
We've killed more things and people seem to remember us, or know about us. It's like we're famous. But I don't know any of them! The bard died, and someone replaced it. (Why did I think of him as an it?) It was like magic, someone was in the village, and looking to travel. And .... and he reminds me of the bard. Just a little, some words he says, sometimes he knows stuff he shouldn't - unless he's been following us the whole time. Is that it? Are we some sick mage's fun experiement with hallucinogens?
I'm scared, but I know I'm not supposed to be scared. I just wish I knew why I knew that. I just realised I've never brushed my teeth, or bathed. But no one complains. I don't even smell. I don't even recall cleaning my clothing, but it's always cleaned in those odd blurs of memory, like time gets sped up to important things, like killing people. How's getting clean not important?
It took me five minutes to recall the name of my God today. I prayed, but no one answered. I don't think anyone will. The Gods are using us, like puppets. We just move like pieces on a board, and we don't think, or live. We're not real. How can I be so scared if I'm not real? Gods damn it, how?
No one ever replies. I don't know what I'd do if they did. I keep dreaming of dice. I don't know why. The new fellow reminds me more and more of the bard. I "remember" hearing about people who can take the shapes of others, and their memories and be them. Dopplegangers. That's the name.
I just remembered something about them and forgot it. And I know I did that because I didn't do it. Something is using me. God or demon or curse, I'm being used! Please! Is anyone out there?! Someone, anyone - what does three HD mean?
No one answers. No one. Not anything. I tried to kill myself today. I couldn't. Something stopped me. I don't know what it was. I think we're all dopplegangers. I can't remember the name of the insects. I'm starting to think the world is an illusion. But it's too fake to really be one. Real illusions trick you. This one isn't. Not anymore. But I can't get out.
The dice are falling. I hear them when I'm awake, and voices at the edge of hearing, and smells I don't know, but do know. Something other than me calls them pizza. There's so much I don't know. So much I can't. I'm just a pawn on some, some board. Somewhere. This feels right. I don't think it should scare me but it does.
And I still don't know what three HD means.
- Josh MacLeod, June 7th 2002 (1st draft - 833 words)
| 
