Chapter 4

Week 2, Day 14 Saturday

When I woke up today, my fingers felt incredibly sore. My PlumbBob had kept me typing until about ten p.m. last night. Even though my fingers really hurt when I tried to move them, they didn't appear red or swollen. In fact, they looked totally normal. Then I remembered that my PlumbBob's radioactive waves also control my appearance. I also saw that "Sore Fingers" wasn't on my mood panel. Actually, it said that I was very happy, having just had a good night's sleep. Well I didn't, I was tired and sore and the mood panel wasn't saying anything about it. I slumped back onto my bed and groaned. I just wanted to go back to sleep. But as usual, my PlumbBob ordered me to get up. I groaned loudly, which turned into a yell. After letting my anger out, I eased my way into the kitchen. There, Tommy was sitting at the dining room table, drinking a box of Flying Iguana juice.

"Green Iguanas Flying in the Sky !" Tommy loudly proclaimed, saying the popular juice box catchphrase.

I went to the refrigerator. I opened it and placed my hand in. A bowl of cereal appeared into my hand. I then closed the refrigerator and sat down at the dining room table. After eating up my cereal, I put the bowl into the dishwasher and asked myself, what am I going to do today? My PlumbBob automatically suggested that I work more on my book. After working all afternoon yesterday, I really didn't want to work on my book some more again. I pushed the thought out of my mind, and this time the PlumbBob didn't argue with me. It then suggested I go to the library. "Fair enough." I thought aloud.

I rode my bike up to the Papyrus Memorial Library. I climbed up the narrow staircase to the library entrance. The rooms were quaint and quiet, which suited me. After realizing that I've read most off the books available, including some of my own titles, I tried asking some staff for a directory. I then realized that there was no staff, as the secretary desk was empty. I was about to storm out of the building when I accidentally tripped over a lump in the carpet. Once I got back up, I investigated the lump I had tripped over. I reached under the carpet, and discovered that the thing I had tripped over was a old, beaten leather-bound book. Suddenly, my PlumbBob ordered me to put the book back where I had found it and go home. I pushed the thought away and opened the book. I then felt a searing pain in my head. I felt my body start to go numb again, as I was quickly losing feeling in my arms and legs. Inching my arm, I painfully resisted and put the book into my inventory. My arm then gave out to the numbness and I could see from the floor's reflection, my eyes had become nothing but a blank stare, and a fake smile. I watched myself get up, exit the library, and head home, no doubt to work more on my book.

My room was dark and empty. I hid under my covers, flashlight in hand. It was around eleven p.m. according to my PlumbBob. I was almost certain it wouldn't notice me sneaking a look at my book at this hour. Deep under my covers, I flipped the flashlight on. My covers were fairly thick, so no light shown through. I opened up the book, releasing a cloud of dust along with it. I fought the urge to cough, burying my head into my sheets until I knew all the dust had cleared. Then I took my flashlight and I shone it at the book.

A Totally, Completely, Utterly, Fictional Tale by Tragic Clown

There once was a boy named Buddy. Buddy was a normal kid, like everyone else. In the morning, he liked making pancakes with his mom. In the afternoon, he liked to help change his little sister's diaper, and at night, he likes to close his own door and climb into his bed and play with his toys.

This book was insane, it had absolutely no context to it, and the things listed here that the character "Buddy" liked to do were impossible. Everyone knew that your PlumbBob opens doors for you using it's radioactive waves, and a child can't make pancakes, let alone with another person. Why would anyone write this? Why would someone write a nonsense book about someone doing things inconceivable by any Sim. Then it hit me, maybe this person wasn't a Sim. Just then, I heard the bedroom door creak open. I quickly flipped off the flashlight and hid the book.

"Sweetie, are you still awake?" Mom asked in a sweet tone.

I didn't answer.

"Cindy Heroor, I know you're awake, now answer me this minute!" Mom commanded, in a much harsher tone.

I was shocked, I had never heard Mom speak to me like that.

"Yes Mom, I'm awake." I replied softly.

"Speak up child! Watcher, you'll be the death of me." Mom complained, waving her arms in the air.

"Mom, are you ok?" I asked, tentatively.

"Well of course I'm not ok! What with you sneaking around behind my back. I know you were up to something in here, and I'm going to find it!" Mom proclaimed, marching into my room.

Mom bluntly grabbed my head and threw me to the side, knocking my head against the wooden backboard of my bed. She threw the bed across the room, smashing it into the wall, knocking the book out of it's hiding place. Her PlumbBob's light radiated over to the book.

"Ah ha! That's what you've been up to! Thought you could sneak around me huh?" Mom growled, picking up the book.

"You won't be seeing this for awhile." she snarled, and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

I sniffled, trying to push myself up. My bed was in shambles, the wooden support smashed into pieces. How could Mom even do this? How was she strong enough to lift up my bed and hurl it across the room? I didn't know, but I knew why she did it. Her PlumbBob was controlling her, just like it controls me. Was this our purpose? Are we just pawns in someone's sick game? I was bursting into tears when Daddy opened the door.

"Cindy? Are you alright?" Daddy asked, quickly rushing to my side.

"I don't know." I replied, brushing away some of the oncoming tears.

"It's going to be alright sweetheart. Mom just isn't feeling well." Daddy told me.

I looked at him. His usual brown hair had a grayness to it, as if the world had been aging him. But there was a comforting sense of wisdom in his dark green eyes.

"Where's Mom?" I asked.

Daddy looked towards their room.

"She's sobbing on her bed. I think this has been a rough night for all of us. We should all just get some sleep." he told me.

"Alright, goodnight Daddy." I said, looking to my ruined bed.

"I'll get a sleeping bag for you in Buy Mode." Daddy told me.

My old ruined bed disappeared and was replaced by a standard, blue sleeping bag.

"There you go, now go get some sleep. We'll sort this all out in the morning." Daddy promised.

We kissed each other goodnight and Daddy left the room. I rolled myself into the sleeping bag, wondering what tomorrow would bring.