The depressed guy

CLICK!

CLICK!!

CLICKITY-CLICKITY-CLICKITY-CLICK!!!!

The depressed guy sighed heavily onto his keyboard. He spoke not in an angry tone, however, he was angry, "please work, hmm, I guess it is like that then."

He said it with no emotion at all, he dragged his feet as they rubbed on the soft carpet. One could not work out what colour it was as the only light source was the computer. which the depressed guy was having problems with.

THUMP!!

The bed launched him back into the air when he flopped onto it. It repeated this three times until it stopped. He looked at the ceiling, trying to think what to do next.

"Well," he sighed heavily. "Let's see if you work."

CREAK!!

The depressed man slumped into the mattress and bounced out. He was now staring at his curtains. The only way he could tell they were curtains is seeing the pattern reflect the electromagnetic radiation that the computer screen was giving.

The man kept on going to his chair. It was not a large distance but the room was fairly big. He had nothing on the floor, clean as the night, except for the dust- but that is hoovered every three days.

The man had nothing better to do. He was bored all the time. He would either play games most of it or just slouch round. He had gotten used to making food for himself instead of buying the premade stuff.

After finally arriving at the chair, he descended his legs and sat on it comfortably. It was the only chair in the house. You wouldn't even call this place a house, more a dead flat. There were only three rooms: one for the kitchen; another for the bathroom and the large room for himself.

The lad turned his expensive and shiny chair to face the monitor. "Huh," he tilted his head, crossing his right bushy eyebrow in and the other one out. He was confused by what the system said. He sighed at it.

"Well, do I need to fix it?" His face returned normal, giving off the same monotone vibe his voice gave off. He took a breath and moved his hand slowly to the screen. The lad was still thinking about what the words meant on the popup screen.

If it was a virus, so what. He did not care the slightest if it was, he would just have to sigh and give it to the repairman- which he would hate. The words were written out in a small blue box in the middle of the screen.

Behind it was what he had been doing beforehand, opening a screen off windows setting. He just wanted to have a check of the new webcam he got and make sure it's up and running.

The words were" camera is active, making a check-up, please have your face visible before pressing ok, and make sure your face is seen in the camera ", it was weird.

Why do they want that?

He gave no care in the world and just clicked "ok." It went into a loading sign, making him wait longer now. He put his elbow on his wooden desk and rested his head on his hand. "Is it gonna be alright that I pressed ok without doing anything beforehand?"

He blinked then shrugged his shoulders, "oh well, who cares, if this turns out to kill me that would be the best for all of us." He moved his head around slowly, giving a look from the locked window to his worn covers on his bed.

"Which 'us' am I talking about?" He scoffed lightly and looked at the screen. He did not realise it beforehand, however, there was a percentage count up on the screen. He blinked and saw the number go up.

34%

36%

37%

40%

Not the smooth waiting but the unsteady rhythm. He shrugged, stood up and flopped once again onto his bed. He waited for the loading to be complete. He lifted his head and looked at the camera, squinting to see it better. "Man, you give me a lot of trouble, I just want to play a game."

He shook his head in misery. The depressed guy had a job, but he lost it about a month ago, it was because of somebody else's mistake too. He tried to get another job but nobody would add him because of that mistake that is written on his CV.

He had given up after many tries and now just stays in his house, living with the rest of the money that he had from his old job. He had enough money for him to keep himself alive for about a year but after that, he would probably kill himself.

What else could he do? Nobody wants him in their job, he can't get new education because of the expenses and he had nobody to support him, he really should just end it.

The only reason why he isn't doing it sooner is because of the video games that he had heard about before. There were these fun games where you play for hours upon hours and get these cool characters. Even though he finds it find, he just plays two and a half hours a day.

His other hobbies he does too: drawing, cooking, learning, reading and thinking. He would lie down and just think for an hour and then realise how late it is and go to bed, that is what he is doing now. Finally, a realisation struck him.

"Oh yeah, I forgot, I have to go to the supermarket to get food, I wonder if the people did not take all the spinach and sweet potato," since nobody like him, he has to get food himself. It's not that bad, the fresh air is nice, but he just finds it a drag. He sighed, giving another one of his monotone faces.

He got up and checked if the number hit one hundred. Nope, it was just strolling along the ninety-nine mark. "Man," he scratched his head, "this always happens, it goes fast for the first time and then just sits on ninety-nine." He sat down, not flinching that he had to wait longer.

In the small left corner of his eyes, he had turned when sitting on his chair, he had seen the number change. He reacted and swung his legs to see it at one hundred.

At that moment his house lights went on magically, but not for long, only for about a second. The next thing he heard was an old camera sound, taking a picture. "Wha-"

He was baffled. He looked around, making sure he saw the light turn on properly, then he looked at his monitor. He was on it.

"What?" He raised his voice a bit and looked at himself. "Man, that picture does not look good, I look like I am dying." His eyes were half-open in it and he was also looking up, away from the camera. "Hope the lights aren't broken, then I would have to pay for the repairs and kill myself a day earlier," he said jokingly.

He looked back at the screen and he blinked three times. He was puzzled, "the picture, moved?" It changed from him looking away to his full, clear expression at the camera. "Did I get the wrong camera?"

He kept on looking at it and blinked a final time. He saw a white bright light shine, but it did not come from any of the stuff in his room, it came elsewhere. His eyes were closed but he still could see it.

What is this? My eyes are closed but I still see light? Wait, am I finally dead?

He felt like he was getting pushed through an aeroplane window. The strong winds were pushing him.

Is this how dead people are transported?

His mood started to feel more lightened however in a blink, it turned dark again. "Huh, what is this? Am I not dead?" He slowly opened his eyes and saw that the area was black but not pure pitch black. It had a glossy, pixie feel to it. He moved his hand and felt a lot of resistance to it.

In addition to that, he also heard a laser sound when he moved it. He quickly moved his hands and blinked again. "Why does this sound like a lightsaber?"

He was baffled by it but quickly lost interest. "So, I am dead, right?" He spoke to the glowy void and finally, something popped up. It sounded similar to his hand moving when arriving, but it was lighter.

"Hello, it's nice to meet you," said a man.