It was dark, cold… I couldn't remember much. My eyes had lost their originally involuntary quirks and replaced them with two tons of slim flesh. I had just barely woken up. I looked around with my limited sight and attempted to identify my surrounding objects. There was not much to be seen though. The walls seemed so bare despite the protected windows. The floor was only accompanied by my lowered bed and desk. I was so confused. It wasn't that it would hurt to think, it was that I was afraid to.

My fear somehow guided my feet to the ground. They felt strange against this newly re-acquainted surface, but I tried to push on. I guess I was afraid of a lot.

The moment my wobbling ceased and I could further my investigation, I began remembering.

"Happy Birthday!" a tall man burst in my room to announce. "Congrats!"

As I bolted out of my bed he set down a cake. I wasn't coming to devour the pastry, however. No, I was running with crusty eyes to my father. We hugged each other, and soon after, he pushed on to the cake. Honestly, it seemed girly with its pink and white frosting, but that's my dad for you. I think.

He cut me a piece and watched as I began picking at it. Bite after bite, his eyes would not leave mine. I should have gathered suspicion from that, but the cake only had ten candles. Finally, Pop's eyes grew even wider (somehow) with excitement. I bit into a fish-tail cake. I suppose you could say the joke was on him though. His wide eyes soon became the target of my spitting game. Bull's-eye, might I add.

The memory then jumped to our walk. Lord knows where we were going, but my father was losing track of his step. Neither of us noticed the carriage swerving off at our direction. The ten-year-old me didn't notice, that is, until a collision ensued with the man in front of me. The memory didn't include the body or really anything after that.

So, I guess that's what happened. Only parts of these memories had sound such as my father's inviting voice and my game, but you can bet the crushing metal and snapping of bones inched its way in there.

I blinked, coming back to this unreal reality. I was feeling better as far as my head went, but if it were fully healed at that time, I know I would have been in tears. My sight, while still blurred at times, gained a full range which revealed a few objects that I wish it hadn't. A rotting cake lay on my desk along with some papers. Ten corrupted candles lay on one of the scribbled on sheets. I had to look away before more flashbacks came on. I really didn't want to deal with them. Instead my eyes met with a poster above my bed. The letters SBURB were easy to read and the house print was perhaps the brightest thing in the room. (Still pretty dull though.) It seemed newer than everything else in the room meaning someone had to be taking care of me, right?

I tried putting these things together. Care-taker, crushed memories, and an unfamiliar environment- those were my clues. Nothing came together until a thud came to the door. I walked towards the noise. I would have opened the door like a civilized person if I hadn't noticed that I was wrapped in some suit. I used my feet, and what a miracle that was.

Below me stood some lady completely drenched in her own blood. She had been cut many times in multiple places; I did not count, and I don't regret it to this day. Again, this would have been sickening if my head was in the right spot, but it wasn't. I walked around her.

The hallways had multiple doors off to the sides, but none of them seemed occupied. Even at night, I thought there should be some sign of life. I actually began wondering how long I had been out. I was about to assume the apocalypse until I turned in the bend and saw somebody. Blessed was my luck.

"Kid, which one are you?"

"Excuse me?"

His lips quirked up. "Good morning, Egbert."

I had absolutely no idea as to what that meant. Was it morning? I just went with it because why not. "Morning. Where-?"

"John Egbert- that's you. Welcome to SBURB. I don't know how, but we've got to save the world. Fucking yay."

Okay, that's where I started freaking out. Prepare yourself, oh god. "This is a dream. I'm dreaming. I am dreaming up myself in a weird outfit talking to some bloody-eyed guy."

"Straight jacket, genius," the strange guy remarked.

"Straight jacket! My dream tells me things I don't know. How awesome." He pinched me. "Oh my God."

"Yeah, now, chill out here for a while."

Maybe he was a trustworthy guy; or maybe it was just my grip on sanity loosening, but I sat down next to him. He was really nice- still is.

Dave, his name as I learned, explained everything to the extent of his own knowledge. My father had died in that accident I saw. When I saw that he died, I had apparently lost it and began hysterically laughing. Now that I look back on it, I probably just saw it as another prank. The authorities came and swept me into a small house to tally-up the damage. Absolutely nothing had injured me. This blessing was, yes, a curse. They considered me insane if not Satanic and threw me in here. He said that nobody really knows what caused it, but I slipped into a coma which lasted up until now. His bandaged eyes were also an interesting story if you'd be willing to stick around for that.

…Okay, cool! Dave's eyes had been a punishment. You see, he had been in this place for quite some time, but he people here didn't actually take care of us. Most of the time people there were just experiments for them. He had not slipped into a coma though, so he proved that the straight jacket wasn't a necessity. His eyes were an unusual color from birth. They attempted to make him "normal" with a transplant. Obviously that stupid idea failed.

Eventually, people who were rightfully called insane attempted a take-over. Living in such conditions is horrible. Care-taker after care-taker dropped dead as did the patients. Dave, with the help of a girl named Rose, scouted out the certain people, sane… ish people. The only two they could find were sleeping. Both Rose and Dave took a position of protection. Dave protected the guy, me. Rose protected the other girl; I don't know her name. It was incredibly nice of both of them! To mark the correct patient, they put signs above their beds, thus explaining the random one in the room I gained consciousness in.

The game, SBURB, began when those two got bored. He was a bit stingy on details here, but I guess meteors are coming. By meteors he meant horrible shit I think. Meteors from a game seem jumpy, you know? Now that I was awake though, finding out won't be much of a struggle.

Once that generous explanation was out of the way, we headed over to check on the others. Oh god, the others.

(AN: I have not been on this website for a long time. Sorry, guys. My reason is Homestuck though. Hopefully that's an okay excuse. Thank you for reading installment one. If you have any feedback, I would be extremely interesting in reading it.)