(I'm thinking of continuing this because I just love this point of view! The poor person stuck here blowing off his head over and over again... Anyway, I'm kind of out of ideas so I'll add more later!)
This is a cry for help. A plea for escape. I was born in this hell and I need to get away from here. Please, I don't have much time before I—
BOOM.
Blink.
A condescending little smiley face loomed over me, its eyes black pixels and its face eerily still. Its features were a colour so dark and destitute of any emotion, like a huge void arranged on a circular (as opposed to, like, ovular or something) disk of yellow, it reminded me of the colour I had imagined diethyl ether to appear to be. An array of grey tiles spread out below me… this situation was all too familiar. But why? I've never been here before. I've never been anywhere before. I didn't exist before this. Yet it felt like home, this minefield I hovered over.
Sometimes, I had this thought, just an idea, that I wasn't actually in control of myself. That there was some sort of being that I was simply an avatar for. It's crazy, but what if there was some sort of creature that stared at a bright screen and could see the whole field of bombs and controlled where I carelessly wandered over with a device that it held in its hand which moved around a cursor on that screen?
That's impossible. I shouldn't even be thinking about that. I existed in this grid of grey and nowhere else.
A fish in a pond that never looks up and thinks that other ponds could exist out there— with other fish in different waters.
I touched the ground, my shiny gun in my hand and my heart in my throat. The cold, hard tile feet eerily comfortable under me, as if I've spent my whole life there, which I had, I guess. A small group of tiles cleared out and I saw the familiar numbers that I've never seen before surface. Ah… this felt strange.
I knew what I needed to do. Clear every single safe tile and mark the ones that had mines underneath them with red flags. How did I know this? If I had any idea, I would've explained that to you and this story would be making a lot more sense.
I hovered over an unflipped tile and I saw the normally smiley face become un-smiley. Its mouth opened into a circular 'O' shape as if it was worried for my safety. Hah, fat chance. I touched down. Another number, not a mine. I smiled inwardly, realizing that it was a 3. There were only 3 more unflipped spaces so I marked them off with red flags. I put down my gun, which I had no idea what it shot out (and that didn't seem very important anyway, since it didn't appear like I needed it anyway.) Accomplishment swelling inside me, I looked around the field.
What I saw made all the accomplishment I felt flicker away like a flame running out of oxygen. Rows after rows of possible death traps lay in front, behind, and beside me. I stagger back a little in surprise, which I realize was a mistake a bit too late.
The smiley face, once again looks un-smiley, but this time it wasn't worried for my safety. It couldn't have been because it was dead. And that meant that I was also—
BOOM.
Blink.
A condescending little smiley face loomed over me, its eyes black pixels and its face eerily still. An array of grey tiles spread out below me… this situation was all too familiar.
Now wasn't that fun? Let's try that again.
