5. Kuchisabishii
Wednesday, June 19th-2:14 p.m.
1,214 words. Approximate reading time: 6 minutes, 4 seconds.
Nelle sighed and grabbed another handful of potato crisps, her greasy fingers crushing a few of the smaller crisps into crumbs. She moved her hand toward her open mouth and shoved the entire handful inside in one smooth, seemingly well-practiced motion. The voices had been particularly active today, and it was getting on her nerves.
It was hard enough for Nelle to deal with the voices when they were just quiet mumbles in the back of her mind, but when they started getting more active like today, it was all Nelle could do to keep from just screaming endlessly to drown them out. It sounded like they were arguing with each other this time. She very rarely could ever make out actual words, but she could feel the “mood” of the voices, and often found her own mood shifting to match theirs.
The best way to drown out the voices, Nelle found, was snacking. She never really felt hungry and usually had to remind herself to eat something, especially when she got very focused on something like work or a new VR game. But when the voices started getting too loud or distracting, she would always reach for a bag of crisps. Or pretzels. Or cookies. Anything that would crunch loudly enough that the noise of snacking would take precedence over the voices.
She wiped her crumb-covered fingers on the leg of her pants before grabbing her mouse and moving the cursor around the screen, clicking on a few things, opening and closing windows in an attempt to fool her job’s remote screening software (which knew what she was doing but also monitored her productivity and decided, in its artificial wisdom, to let Nelle goof off when she wanted to as long as she got her work done). The arguing voices got louder in Nelle’s mind, and she shoved another handful of crisps into her mouth, chewing as loudly as she could. Still, a few words came clear to her this time, with the crisps doing very little to cover up the shouting voices.
“...new technology ... can’t figure ... need to just ... move on … just keep ... forever?”
“...forever ... can’t believe you ... trapped ... give up? ... options; still ... can’t give up...”
Nelle started frantically shoveling crisps into her mouth, crunching them as loudly as she could. She didn’t like it when she was able to make out words. They sounded almost like they were trying to guide her, even if she couldn’t figure out exactly what they were trying to say. But so ghoulish, she thought! Every time she could hear actual words they were talking about being trapped and giving up.
Nelle felt trapped sometimes, of course. It had been nearly four years since she’d left her house. After the outbreak, her job went remote-only, and (understandably, given the seriousness of the pandemic) stayed that way. She had her groceries delivered and she was signed up for the highest-tier VR subscription. She had some VR friends that she enjoyed talking to, and did daily video meetings at work. She had food and entertainment, and a little socialization, which was all she really needed. Still, it would be nice once all of this was over and she was able to touch her bare feet to the grass and feel the sun shining on her face. It had been far too long.
When she was feeling extra daring, Nelle would set her alarm for 2:00 a.m., when she knew that no one else would be awake and that the voices would be quiet. She would climb out of bed, slip over to her bedroom window, and slide it open about halfway. She would put her face to the opening and breathe deeply of the outside air. She knew that she was taking a risk of getting sick or getting caught, but she found sometimes that she couldn’t help herself.
The voices were telling her to give up, she thought as she crunched through her last handful of crisps. “So I’m trapped and I should give up?” she asked the voices, wondering if she might actually be able to communicate with them. “Give up on what?”
“...love her ... miss her ... only alive ... can’t talk ... eat...”
“Love who? Miss who?” Nelle asked. “What am I giving up on?”
“...can’t give up ... All I know ... won’t give up...” the second voice said.
“...can’t do...” the first voice responded angrily, and then both were silent.
Nelle let herself sit quietly for a moment, waiting for the voices to return, but they didn’t.
“I don’t understand,” she said to the voices that were no longer there, feeling more afraid of the voices than she ever had before. She looked down at her bag of crisps, completely empty after only half an hour. She didn’t feel like she had eaten a whole bag of crisps. She wasn’t hungry, but she wasn’t not-hungry, either. “My brain is so messed up,” she whispered to herself, then dragged her body out of her computer chair and down the stairs to the kitchen.
She opened the pantry and surveyed her stash. Bags upon bags, boxes upon boxes of various snacks filled up the shelves. She reached up to grab an already-opened box of extra-crispy chocolate chip cookies, and just as she did, she felt something brush across her hand. She shrieked and dropped the box, checking the back of her hand and ignoring the cookies that had strewn themselves across the kitchen floor.
“Just a bug or something,” she whispered to herself, rubbing the back of her hand and only half-believing what she was saying. “Christ, I’m losing it. Get it together, Nelle! They aren’t talking to you; it’s just your imagination. You’re just a little stir-crazy. Other people deal with this all of the time.”
Nelle grabbed a new box of cookies, leaving the opened box on the floor, and shakily climbed the stairs back to her bedroom-office. She sat in her bed, ripped open the box and the bag inside the box, and began to munch mindlessly, trying to get her thoughts off of the voices, now that they were quiet again.
“...up, Nelle...” The voice was calm this time, not angry or fighting. It whispered to her gently, sounding both familiar and alien at the same time. “...up...”
Nelle screamed. She had wondered when this day would come, ever since the first day she started hearing the voices, and finally it was here, it seemed. She had cracked. “So I should just give up on life?!” she screamed into the void before shoving another cookie into her mouth and crunching on it loudly. “Is that what you want?!”
“...please, Nelle ... up...”
Nelle screamed again, and threw her box of cookies at the wall opposite her bed, letting them scatter where they would. She held her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that it wouldn’t do her any good. Phantom fingers faintly ran over the back of her hands.
“...up, Nelle ... give up ... love you...”
She opened her eyes, releasing her tears and feeling them cascade down her cheeks. “What is wrong with me?” she whimpered. The dresser opposite her bed flickered out of existence.
“...love you, Nelle ... please just w-”
Nelle began screaming again, drowning out the voice for what she hoped would be the last time.
1,214 words. Approximate reading time: 6 minutes, 4 seconds.
Nelle sighed and grabbed another handful of potato crisps, her greasy fingers crushing a few of the smaller crisps into crumbs. She moved her hand toward her open mouth and shoved the entire handful inside in one smooth, seemingly well-practiced motion. The voices had been particularly active today, and it was getting on her nerves.
It was hard enough for Nelle to deal with the voices when they were just quiet mumbles in the back of her mind, but when they started getting more active like today, it was all Nelle could do to keep from just screaming endlessly to drown them out. It sounded like they were arguing with each other this time. She very rarely could ever make out actual words, but she could feel the “mood” of the voices, and often found her own mood shifting to match theirs.
The best way to drown out the voices, Nelle found, was snacking. She never really felt hungry and usually had to remind herself to eat something, especially when she got very focused on something like work or a new VR game. But when the voices started getting too loud or distracting, she would always reach for a bag of crisps. Or pretzels. Or cookies. Anything that would crunch loudly enough that the noise of snacking would take precedence over the voices.
She wiped her crumb-covered fingers on the leg of her pants before grabbing her mouse and moving the cursor around the screen, clicking on a few things, opening and closing windows in an attempt to fool her job’s remote screening software (which knew what she was doing but also monitored her productivity and decided, in its artificial wisdom, to let Nelle goof off when she wanted to as long as she got her work done). The arguing voices got louder in Nelle’s mind, and she shoved another handful of crisps into her mouth, chewing as loudly as she could. Still, a few words came clear to her this time, with the crisps doing very little to cover up the shouting voices.
“...new technology ... can’t figure ... need to just ... move on … just keep ... forever?”
“...forever ... can’t believe you ... trapped ... give up? ... options; still ... can’t give up...”
Nelle started frantically shoveling crisps into her mouth, crunching them as loudly as she could. She didn’t like it when she was able to make out words. They sounded almost like they were trying to guide her, even if she couldn’t figure out exactly what they were trying to say. But so ghoulish, she thought! Every time she could hear actual words they were talking about being trapped and giving up.
Nelle felt trapped sometimes, of course. It had been nearly four years since she’d left her house. After the outbreak, her job went remote-only, and (understandably, given the seriousness of the pandemic) stayed that way. She had her groceries delivered and she was signed up for the highest-tier VR subscription. She had some VR friends that she enjoyed talking to, and did daily video meetings at work. She had food and entertainment, and a little socialization, which was all she really needed. Still, it would be nice once all of this was over and she was able to touch her bare feet to the grass and feel the sun shining on her face. It had been far too long.
When she was feeling extra daring, Nelle would set her alarm for 2:00 a.m., when she knew that no one else would be awake and that the voices would be quiet. She would climb out of bed, slip over to her bedroom window, and slide it open about halfway. She would put her face to the opening and breathe deeply of the outside air. She knew that she was taking a risk of getting sick or getting caught, but she found sometimes that she couldn’t help herself.
The voices were telling her to give up, she thought as she crunched through her last handful of crisps. “So I’m trapped and I should give up?” she asked the voices, wondering if she might actually be able to communicate with them. “Give up on what?”
“...love her ... miss her ... only alive ... can’t talk ... eat...”
“Love who? Miss who?” Nelle asked. “What am I giving up on?”
“...can’t give up ... All I know ... won’t give up...” the second voice said.
“...can’t do...” the first voice responded angrily, and then both were silent.
Nelle let herself sit quietly for a moment, waiting for the voices to return, but they didn’t.
“I don’t understand,” she said to the voices that were no longer there, feeling more afraid of the voices than she ever had before. She looked down at her bag of crisps, completely empty after only half an hour. She didn’t feel like she had eaten a whole bag of crisps. She wasn’t hungry, but she wasn’t not-hungry, either. “My brain is so messed up,” she whispered to herself, then dragged her body out of her computer chair and down the stairs to the kitchen.
She opened the pantry and surveyed her stash. Bags upon bags, boxes upon boxes of various snacks filled up the shelves. She reached up to grab an already-opened box of extra-crispy chocolate chip cookies, and just as she did, she felt something brush across her hand. She shrieked and dropped the box, checking the back of her hand and ignoring the cookies that had strewn themselves across the kitchen floor.
“Just a bug or something,” she whispered to herself, rubbing the back of her hand and only half-believing what she was saying. “Christ, I’m losing it. Get it together, Nelle! They aren’t talking to you; it’s just your imagination. You’re just a little stir-crazy. Other people deal with this all of the time.”
Nelle grabbed a new box of cookies, leaving the opened box on the floor, and shakily climbed the stairs back to her bedroom-office. She sat in her bed, ripped open the box and the bag inside the box, and began to munch mindlessly, trying to get her thoughts off of the voices, now that they were quiet again.
“...up, Nelle...” The voice was calm this time, not angry or fighting. It whispered to her gently, sounding both familiar and alien at the same time. “...up...”
Nelle screamed. She had wondered when this day would come, ever since the first day she started hearing the voices, and finally it was here, it seemed. She had cracked. “So I should just give up on life?!” she screamed into the void before shoving another cookie into her mouth and crunching on it loudly. “Is that what you want?!”
“...please, Nelle ... up...”
Nelle screamed again, and threw her box of cookies at the wall opposite her bed, letting them scatter where they would. She held her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that it wouldn’t do her any good. Phantom fingers faintly ran over the back of her hands.
“...up, Nelle ... give up ... love you...”
She opened her eyes, releasing her tears and feeling them cascade down her cheeks. “What is wrong with me?” she whimpered. The dresser opposite her bed flickered out of existence.
“...love you, Nelle ... please just w-”
Nelle began screaming again, drowning out the voice for what she hoped would be the last time.