Back at Square One (BEN Drowned)

5

The first thing I noticed, even after I'd slammed it into my console was that the label wasn't exactly ripped, persay. It was just completely gone. No joke. There wasn't even any foreboding sharpie on the side of the cartridge. I felt half-disappointed, half-spooked at the fact I wouldn't even know the contents of the game if I was a regular person until I played it.

I tilted my head curiously as the title screen played its typical little Zelda trill. I noticed at the bottom, "Nintendo" was spelled wrong and almost laughed.

Besides that, there was almost nothing shady I could find after about 2 hours of gameplay. I only got a funny, weird kind of message from the guy who says he's gonna kill the moon with his sword, asking me what my personality type was. I assumed it was talking about the 16-personality quiz your hipster friends make you take if you haven't already. In the text box that was somehow provided, I entered, "douche."

"You're really funny, aren't you."

Then it went back to normal. I guess he gave up on me and my utter assholery. I guess.

My "I can't get my already tired mom mad at me by breaking a promise" instincts kicked in at the two hour mark, and I saved my game and shut down the console reluctantly. At that moment, I heard her car pull into the garage.

"Food?" I inquired loudly when she stepped inside. I heard a faint sigh.

"I went shopping three days ago, Ave. Eat what's in the house."

"M'kay." I failed to bring up the fact that the game had arrived and stood up to visit the kitchen when I saw the screen flicker, even after I turned it off.

So this is happening. I paused, narrowing my eyes at the television and walked away.

The rest of the actual day passed without event because I wasn't going to risk touching a haunted game while my mom was home.

"How was school," she asked nonchalantly over macaroni and marinara sauce. We ran out of the packaged cheese and had to substitute. It was surprisingly good. I shrugged. "Average."

"I seem to get that a lot from you. Something must have happened today."

I thought about it. "Some kid asked me if I believed in aliens because of my shirt." That made her laugh a little.

"Well, don't you?"

"Nah. Not really." I see where you'd be coming from, though.

"Bah, that's no good. You used to be so fascinated by space when you were little, wanted to live on the moon or some crap. It was adorable."

"Ha. It probably was."

My mind flashed to the bare patch of wall in my room where a moon lamp used to be and I smiled. Better get back into that phase. I looked up at my mother to see that regardless of what she was saying, she looked almost distraught. At least exhausted out of her mind, which was to be expected.

"...how was work, mom?"

"Terrible."

"Ah."

"Actually, not really. Just...I was in a bad mood today. Fell a little behind schedule, you know how it goes. I see you got your game today. So at least there's that."

My eyes snapped back up to her at the mention of that. "Oh, yeah. I was gonna tell you, but then I got distracted by it." If by distracted you mean mentally tortured by nothing interesting happening.

Five minutes of silence passing told me she wasn't interested in carrying on with this. I hastily finished my dinner and placed the dish in the sink before going upstairs to my room.

As soon as I shut the door my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Do you know what you've gotten yourself into?

I felt annoyed just looking at the message and I couldn't place why. It just set me off. I opened my phone and furiously thumbed back, Of course. Who are you, and how did you get this number?

Buzz.

You know. Wait 5 or so hours, as long as it takes until she's asleep.

"Fucking creep," I muttered automatically. Again already, I felt like I was in some horror movie. No way in hell did I trust this guy, no matter how sure I was of who he was.

I think I'll pass.

I knew then that I was lying to myself, though.

I did some homework I forgot I had, already breaking the deal I made on the first day of my personal hell, and took a huge power nap that turned into my whole night's sleep. At 11:30 pm I received another message.

I can't see anything past the stairs. Are we alone?

My midnight-setting heart pounded at that. Reading something like that would be mildly unsettling during the day. Try thinking about that at 11:30 at night. I shut my eyes, regretful as hell, before reluctantly responding.

I think so.

Five minutes passed, and my eyes finally adjusted to the dark enough to see a faint light emitting from the downstairs hall. A shiver travelled down my spine.

Buzz.

Come downstairs.

I complied, deciding to get this over with. The first encounter is probably the worst.

As my foot landed on each step, the light became even brighter and I shielded my eyes as I reached the bottom floor.

In the living room the television was turned on at full brightness.