Jayofiction: An interactive story. Part One

I feel like if I continued to write about my day, I would end up being extremely repetitive. I'm sitting in my school's newly refurbished library (and I'd have to say that it's looking pretty nifty) and, since I still can't be bothered reading, I think I'll write. Well, kind of. I want to try something new (and by new, I mean, an old idea that I'm stealing and reviving). Please, I beg of you, participate. I hope this goes well.

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My evening begins in the most likely and ordinary spot possible: at my desk, by the window, overlooking the city. I stare at the streetlights and it stares back obligingly. The city is calm. There are no cars. Everyone who has a home is putting it to use, thus presenting the opportunity for the homeless to collect materials to build their dream homes.

My thoughts meander deeply through twisted thoughts; of deaths and gang violence, of what other people happen to be watching at this time of night and, as usual, of what exactly air particles are doing at the time that could cause my window to freeze…and then melt…and then cry...and then swallow my body. My thoughts continue to twist reality, growing increasingly absurd while my head tilts slowly downward and my eyelids grow heavy.

It is only when my head falls suddenly, onto the hardwood table, to an enormous, floppy thud, that I decide to drag myself to bed.

The room is hazy, almost misty, and I feel the cold scratching at my exposed arms and legs as I move about it. The walk to my bed seems endless and, my feet feel irrational moisture on the supposedly dry carpet.

My bed, however, is unfriendly and disarranged. Several books seek to deny me comfort. The blankets, cold and rough, are unreasonably placed and surprisingly heavy. The pillows seemed to have frozen themselves solid at the news of my coming. My bed is clearly punishing my less frequent visits.

Refusing to give in to the terrorist demands of my own bed, I casually push everything aside and settle for a thinly constructed, ill-fitting blanket that I feel is one wash cycle short of disintegrating. I numb myself to the discomfort of the bed. Comfort becomes irrelevant as I decide to let my body do what it desperately needs to do. My eyelids lock into place and fatigue prevents any bodily movements aside from the steady, tide-like motions of my breathing.

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Now comes the fun part!!!


What happens next?

a) My phone rings and the person on the other side is a long lost someone concerning something of extreme importance. For those interested, the phone concerned is a Nokia 5300 and the volume was set to 3. The ring-tone was Rick Astley's rendition of Silent Night (techno remix).

b) Magic happens in the place where the magic happens. Naturally. We’re all adults here. Trust me though; this is clearly NOT what you think it is.

c) A natural disaster leading to an exciting turn of unbelievable events that is sure to get your heart racing faster than that time you asked that girl/guy out to the prom only to find that you, a student, were not allowed to date senior faculty. Boohoo.

d) Death –with a philosophical twist.

e) I fall asleep and wake up in the morning to the smell of blueberry pancakes and low-sodium turkey bacon.

f) Mystery Dream Sequence. WOoOoOooOO.


This whole thing WILL NOT WORK unless people vote for desired continuation of the story (in the comment section of this post). If this fails, I WILL STOP BLOGGING FOREVER. Not really. But I will lose self-esteem and it will take ages until I’m able to buy new ones. Feel free to vote anonymously so that I you don't feel like it'd be awkward or anything.