Absurdity Ascendant

Words fail

 

            So I woke up. Not because it was that time of day or anything, but because a girl landed on me. How she landed on me, given that I sleep in a bunk, beats me. Beats me over the head with a girl, apparently.

            “Hi!” Lady Mysterious cheerfully greeted me, before wrapping her arms around me. She buried her face in my chest for a second, and then looked up at me with the most serious expression I’ve ever seen. “Hang on. Things are gonna get weird.”

            “What”

~FZHOOT~

            I woke up. Again.

            “What. Is. Going. On.” I looked left, and saw the periods in between my words. I was proud I had placed so much emphasis on each word. Wait, what?

            Lady Mystery looked left in the same manner I had, and noticed that I was calling her Lady Mystery in my internal monologue. “Whoops! I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself!” she rolled off of me, and sat up. I did so too. Minus the rolling. “I’m Harold!” I looked up at the title, “Absurdity Ascendant.” Hoo boy. It’s gonna get worse, isn’t it? “Yup!”

            “Harold, quit looking at my internal monologue!”

            “But it’s right there!”

            I sighed. “I’m Karen.” I extended my hand. Harold grabbed it, and pulled me into a hug.

            “Hi Karen!”

            I barely managed, what with my face pressed against her and all, to eke out, “It’s gonna get worse, isn’t it?”

            Harold chuckled. “You repeat that like it’s a bad thing.”

            “That was the worst snowclone I have ever heard in my life.”

            “You’re welcome!” I sighed at Harold’s response, and would have laid my head on the keyboard if I were the one typing this. Harold stood up, dragging me along with her. She ran off, hand still clenched on my arm. I followed her, preferring to keep my shoulder in my socket. Trust me, it’s a lot more fun that way. And then, explosions. I am not making this up. That Freyaday person is.

            Harold and I get knocked off our feet, and separate as we roll down a hill. I can’t hear, and my eyesight’s blurry, and I hate this sentence and wish it had never been typed.  I tried to stand up, but my body told me no. I thought about looking right to see what was going to happen next, but realized that would just lead to me looking at a description of me looking at a description of me looking at a descript�"ARGH! Instead, I cursed the author of this thing.

            “Curse you Freyaday!” see? Just like that. I don’t know why I pointed that out.

Author's Note

Not done yet.