I tended to be quite nosy... At particular moments, like this one. I wanted to take it upon myself to solve a mystery, at least to some extent. Although I clearly wasn't some investigator, I was still curious as to what really took place inside Freddy Fazbear's pizza.
I got up on my feet again, and paced back and forth for a few seconds before venturing up to my room to change. I had an idea, maybe a terrible one, but still an idea nonetheless.
I stepped into my room and opened the closet doors. I grabbed the nearest article of clothing I could find. It didn't matter to me which one it was, just the first thing I could get my hands on. It wasn't like I was going dressing up for a special occasion or anything , it was just a matter I wanted to take into my own hands. So I could dress as casual as I pleased.
The shirt I whipped out of the closet was an old, beat-up, hand me down type of shirt. It was colored white with a few minor stains appearing on the sleeves.
I Thought the shirt was pretty cool, in the way that the font on the front said "Sorry, Out of Order!" For some odd reason, it all felt familiar, but I still had a major headache. I couldn't put my finger on it...
I took the shirt that I slept with off and replaced it with the one I just grabbed. I could easily adjust to being a guy... Just until I wake up.
It didn't take me much longer to get ready. It really wasn't necessary to apply makeup and hairspray anymore, which conserved a great amount of time for me. I left my room and quickly brushed my teeth. As soon as 5 minutes passed, I was already stumbling my way back down the stairs.
I went in search for the nearest keys I could find. The search didn't require much effort. Luckily they were in plain sight, on the counter... Almost as if someone set them there, waiting or even urging me to obtain them.
I dismissed the idea from my head and decided that whoever was in the house last must have left them on the counter. Maybe they had short term memory loss? Maybe they always managed to lose their keys? That was beyond me.
Before I left, I gazed up to look at the calendar. "What was the date?" Although it was a dream, so there was a great possibility that the day wouldn't be accurate. I don't even think i had enough memory left in my brain to remember what day it was before I went to sleep. I ran my finger slowly across the calendar.
I was carefully examining each square that told the date. Strangely enough, the calendar outlined very lightly around the current date. It was with a yellow highlighter which made it hardly noticeable, anyone could've skipped past it without realizing it. The only thing that made me notice the marking was the musty scent of the highlighter entering my nose.
October 20th, 1993. Well that seemed reasonable. It was around October 15th when I went to bed last night. But there was something else that captured my attention.
On the wall directly next to the calendar there was another note. The reminder also read October 20th "First day of work, don't be late! Or you'll be sorry!" I was was that supposed to mean?
I had delayed myself from leaving the house just for a little bit, where was I supposed to be? What position was I assigned to? Or more importantly, where did I work? I checked my pockets, for anymore clues indicating what all of this could mean.
I fiddled with both my pockets at the same time. In the right pocket I found a wallet, the first thing I did was check the picture ID. Right there, in the inscription it said Mike Schmidt. There was something very off about the picture that I noticed: The picture was heavily blurred and I couldn't make out the least of what this guy looked like.
Who was this Mike Schmidt? I most certainly was NOT Mike. I was Jamie. Although there was an infinite amount of questions stored in my head, there was one major question that I needed answered first. What significance did Mike Schmidt have with me?
