The alarm goes off at 7 AM. I don’t feel like getting up, but I have to. I carefully reach across to shut off the alarm, and watch my fingers. I then jump off the bed, rush out of the bedroom, and close the door. The thing that lives below can’t open doors. I tried getting rid of it, but I’ve learned to just live with it.
I go to take a shower, and turn on the cold water. It’s freezing, but I can manage. Ever since the spiders moved into the water heater, I haven’t been able to use it at all. I step out of the shower and dry off, careful not to glance at the mirror. I tried to take it down once, but it came back the next day, so I’ve learned to just live with it.
Breakfast. I get out the bowls, and fill them with cereal. I set one on the table for myself, and bring the other to the basement for the skinless man who refused to leave. He gives me a thumbs up as I head back up the stairs. The monolithic refrigerator stands ominously, and I can just make out a voice asking me to eat what’s inside. I once tried taking it to the dump, but it appeared where it always was when I came back, so I’ve learned to just live with it.
Heading to the driveway, the car revs its motor at me. As I start to head out on my motorcycle, I open the garage door. Maybe this time it won’t kill as many people. I once sent it to demolition derby, but it destroyed the entire arena, so I’ve learned to just live with it.
On my way to work, I spot a tall faceless man standing under a tree. He’s been around for as long as I can remember, teleporting wherever he wants. When I stop at a traffic light, I hear some noises in the truck behind me. I check my belt to make sure I remembered my gun, and luckily I did. I still remember when my mom first gave it to me, on the day my brother went psycho. Nothing brings a family together quite like shooting your crazy, knife-wielding brother to death. It used to tear me up inside every day, but I’ve learned to just live with it.
Arriving at the office building, I spot a giant sinkhole across the street where the Starbucks used to be. Guess I’ll be getting my coffee from somewhere else now. Walking in the door, there’s a broadcast on the television about the giant monster in California. I stick around long enough to see if it’s coming our way, but it looks like it’ll be going back underground pretty soon. I think back to the night a giant tardigrade destroyed my city block when I was a kid. It used to terrify me constantly, but I’ve learned to just live with it.
The boss calls me into her office. I try not to make contact with her eight-thousand eyes. She says I’m being moved to accounting, something about a memetic photo killing my coworkers. I’m glad I didn’t open that e-mail from a few days ago. I had a friend in high school who made the same mistake. He passed the image to me, and we had to pay thousands of dollars to get the memory removed. Sometimes people ask me about the scar, something else I’ve learned to just live with.
At lunch, I overhear some of my coworkers talking about going to an abandoned amusement park. I’m almost tempted to try to talk them out of it, but I realized that then they’d just get themselves killed some other way. I sip coffee while I read the newspaper headline. Someone else had their spleen stolen while they slept. Ever since the discovery of the dark arts, organ theft has become a booming market. I even participated in it myself some after I finished high school. I still have my next-door neighbors right eye. I considered getting rid of it when it started following me, but I’ve learned to just live with it.
After work, I take a stop at the supermarket. There’s a guy out front trying to scam people. He tries to sell me pills to increase my muscle mass, but I politely decline. I head down to the meat isle, and pass a pale humanoid thing staring hungrily at a turkey. I ignore him as I grab bags of chicken. As I start heading toward the produce section, I notice that he’s started following me. I ask the store employees to keep an eye on him, and they agree to in exchange for some of my blood. Y’know, I think I’ve seen that thing before. Yeah, he’s the one that tried to bite off my hand that one time. Restraining orders don’t work on pale thin humanoids, so I’ve learned to just live with them.
Heading home, I hear police sirens. I see my car cannibalizing another car. I try to block out the sounds of the people inside it screaming for their lives. I think my car noticed me, but it doesn’t pay any heed. Continuing onwards, I pass a boarded-up arcade. I remember going there when I was a kid, before they found out that most of the games were haunted. It’s sad to see something like that happen, but I’ve learned to just live with it.
I put the groceries in the icebox out back. The refrigerator knows what I’m doing, and moans jealously. I bring it a piece of chicken so it doesn’t feel left out. I say goodnight to the skinless man, and start heading to bed. I make sure the closet door is locked, and that the trap under my bed is set. I carefully set the alarm, keeping a close eye on the shadow standing over me. I put the covers over my face, and try to ignore the scratching coming from my closet. It used to keep me up all night, but since I couldn’t kill the undead demon inside, I’ve learned to just live with it.
As I drift off to sleep, I hope my dreams will be at least somewhat pleasant. But, as always, I end up in a bloody landscape with a towering figure made of bones watching me. Looking around, I see everyone else in town is there too. I sigh, get down on my knees, and plead to the evil god to spare me just one more day. I wish things didn’t have to be this way, that I didn’t have to just live with it. But, nobody can do anything about it. All we can do is learn to just live with it, along with everything else. Tomorrow will be another day of living with it.
Submitted June 25, 2016 at 02:45PM by Kerblockityblock http://ift.tt/28TD69n NoSleepOOC
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