Sarah came to sitting in a sweaty seat on a south-bound bus. She immediately recognized the bus and the streets outside. She let out a sigh of relief.
She didn't remember falling asleep nor did she necessarily believe that she had been asleep. She certainly did not remember getting on the bus. Did she remember her morning? What day was it? What year?
She checked her belongings but found almost nothing on her person. "That's odd", she mumbled to herself. She could feel the panic setting in again. Oh FUCK NO, not again.
She took another look around at the familiar view. She was starting to tremble and sweat. As she looked towards Tony, the bus driver she recognized all so well, but knew nothing about him. He was looking at her in his mirror. What the fuck? Sarah thought, although she wasn't sure if she had vocalized her thoughts or not.
As she looked around she noticed more and more of the "passengers" were looking at her. Or are they passengers? Some she had never seen before; or noticed, that is. For all she knew they had been watching her for weeks. All of a sudden it started again.
She could feel it pulsing. She was sweating and breathing heavily, panicking as she looked around the bus. A man in a suit asked her "are you okay?". GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, ALL OF YOU she said twice, the first a stammering whisper and the second a blood-curdling scream.
She looked down at her bandages and she knew that she hadn't found it. She could still feel it. She didn't know what it was, but she was certain it was why her life had been such as it had been. She had always been able to feel it; from the moment everything started going downhill.
Frantically she began to remove the bandage- layer by bloody layer. When she reached the bottom, the wounds still seemed fresh. Good, she thought. She always hated reopening the last partially-healed liberation attempt. She knew it was there. In her palm. She knew it. All these people on the bus- they were staring at her just like they always had been. Switching bodies, using tulpas; she didn't know how it worked. But she knew this world wasn't real.
And that damn chip controlling it was somewhere in that fucking palm.
She wrestled a razor blade from in between the two socks she had transferred to the same foot when she found the opportunity to swipe the blade. It didn't stop it from cutting her; but she was glad she still had it. At least it's still today, she thought. But how did she know?
As she began digging for the device several of the men began to approach her. She stood her ground. She was finding that damn chip if it was the last thing she did. No one was going to Truman Show her.
The razor found it's way to the wrong flesh in the madness.
Oh well , Sarah thought. They aren't even real
AHHH I LOVED THIS!!!
So freaking good! Freewrite is your thing, man!
Please definitely do more of these 😍
Thank you!!!
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