Amanda's eyelids seemed to have much more weight than normal. She slowly raised them and, much to her confusion, the girl’s tired gaze only met darkness. Her room was not lit with the blinds on the windows closed. She could not tell what time it was nor where she was exactly. The bed? The armchair? Amanda felt numb. She tried looking around and felt a breaking pain in her neck, quite an unpleasant experience. The girl gave in to weakness and rested. With her eyes closed, she tried to picture what he had been doing before she fell asleep. Memory fed her with very blurred, unclear images.
She used logic. She was definitely on the floor… Lying face down in a somewhat awkward position, like a corpse thrown from a great hight, with her neck turned and stretched, her right arm, completely numb, under her body and on a hard object she failed to identify. The left arm was free. The girl felt her clothes were on, then moved her toes. She had only one shoe on. Where the hell was she? Amanda had never felt like this before. She did have blackouts after refusing to give in to sleep but in she always found herself on her bed or in her armchair afterwards. She was not ready to get back to reality just yet. Her mind started drifting towards nothingness.
The door bell rang. The sound shattered her letargic state with every recurring signal. Amanda struggled not to hear it but the bells were so painfully sonorous… The longer she heard the ringing the more it sounded like hammering. She made an attempt to get up and regretted that the same instant. Abrupt pain brought her back to conscioussness. She suffered. Slowly, so very slowly, the sounds dissipated. All that she was left with was a headache. The girl was hung over.
Amanda opened her eyes again. Nothing had changed. She was still surrounded with heavy twilight, her body still twitched, a grotesque caricature of a dead bot in Doom. Surely, there had to be a gun she’d dropped while dying somewhere around there. “Get a grip, girl. Time to respawn” she thought to herself. After a few seconds her sight started adjusting to the surrounding. Edges and shapes began to appear. Most of Amanda's body was under her desk and her head was pressed against its side. Now, what was the hard object that she was lying on and that was causing such pain and numbness in her right hand? She could not answer that. Yet. She decided to not move for a few more moments.
Soon Amanda discovered she could move her left arm without pain. Her hand fumbled onto a cold object. She was hoping it would be the Mega Health but it was not. Just a bottle. Ah, yes. Wine. It came back to her. Her sister Anna called from the United States interrupting a match of Doom the day before, or rather the night before. Normally, Amanda got furious when something stopped her duels but the news was too good. Anna was pregnant. That time around Amanda did not get angry. Quite the opposite - she celebrated. Alone.
The Swede took a few more moments to rest and decided to turn onto her back. The endeavour was a success but expectedly caused a great deal of pain as well. It took another few minutes for the girl to get rid of the numbness in her right arm. She identified the object she'd been lying on. Goodness. Shoe. Amanda wanted to laugh but had only courage enough for a little smile. The neck was killing her after even the slightest of motions. A hot shower was what she needed. And probably a good massage.
After a minute's struggle, the girl stood up and found, much to her pleasure, that the computer was still on, which was nothing unusual. All she had to do was dip her left hand into a cube of light for a second. A delicate, soothing tune started to fill the room. Slowly, Amanda made her way to the bathroom only to meet another peril. After turning the shower on, she realised that for the aching in her neck she was unable to take off all of her clothing. She froze for a moment and uttered a quiet whine of helplessness. The girl became angry with herself. Stout as she was, Amanda turned the tap with caution and stepped under the shower with her clothes on, except for the shoe had taken off. Water embraced her tired shoulders. The warmth of the stream was accepted like a blessing.
A trail of wet footmarks led the way from the bathroom to a small, poorly lit, toothpase-green room. Seated in an armchair in the middle of it, a yound lady was sinking into music, with a cigarette in her hand. Eyes closed, she was leaning back, holding one of her knees against her chest. Her hair still bore the moist of the shower and a few little drops of water slowly crept down her ripe cheek. Reborn, she was relaxing and gorging on the moment. Enjoying the tranquility, she didn’t need to move, she didn’t need to think, nor did she want to. Nothing to cast aside the blissful effect that the mixture of warmth, music and tobacco had upon her.
The door bell rang. The girl flinched and the enchantment was over. After the second ring came sobriety. Amanda left her throne and paced barefoot to answer the door. Knowing she would not come back to her previous state any time soon certainly did not make her feel any better.
“Hello, young lady, my name is Niclas Olofsson” said a man with a warm voice before the angry Amanda could ask what it was about. He was around thirty, neatly dressed and with a smile typical of men who sell toothpaste door to door. “I am the manager of Clan Eternal, the ESports team, Doom division. Could I have a word with your” the man hesitated for a split second, “brother?”
“My brother does not live here” answered Amanda, surprised as well as suspicious.
“Oh, apologies. Your boyfriend?” Mr Olofsson made an effort to conceal the awkwardness he felt.
“What is this about?” a tone of irritation rang from the girl’s voice. She used it to hide the curiosity that began to fill her. Mr Olofsson decided to uncover his cards.
“I would like to talk to the man who plays Doom using the connection in this flat, I believe he often uses the nickname Thresh?” he said, still sounding like a salesman.
“I have no idea what you are talking about. Goodbye!” said Thresh and slammed the door.
Footsteps faded away. Amanda stood motionless, leaning against the door, for another two minutes trying to establish whether the situation was indeed what it seemed to be. The manager of Europe’s top clan took the time to find her and probably offer a professional contract. They wanted her! That had to mean she was really good! That had to mean she was famous! She had been well aware of that but Niclas Olofsson was the first tangible proof for it. For some reason, she treated all the debate about her in the forums like a part of her prank rather than a sign of her fame and prowess.
The gamer bunny-hopped back to her lair and sprung into her armchair. She was exhilarated to the extent that she did not know what she wanted to do. After a moment’s thought, Amanda got up and began putting on her jogging outfit. The girl figured that she had to vent the excitement in one way or another. Moreover, some shopping needed to be done. The fridge had been empty for two days and she just began to realise how hungry she was. And the litter had to be disposed of.
Amanda jogged past various people. Hurrying businessmen in black suits, carrying briefcases and newspapers and wearing cell phones by the ear. Ordinary, faceless people, all looking alike, all worrying about their mundane problems. Youngsters with freaky clothes and colourful hair, so uniform in their desperate attempts to appear differently. They all were so grey and uninteresting and every single one of them in a state of a constant rush… To their homes, to their schools, to their falimies, to their paychecque. All of them bots. Mindless, blind, with a boring, money-chasing script.
Amanda started to wonder. What would have happened had she not closed the door? Most likely, after convincing Mr Olofsson that he was looking for her, she would have been offerred her a professional contract in Clan Eternal’s female squad. And because she was so much better than any other girl on the planet, and probably most of the clan’s male squad, it was not improbable that she would get an individual sponsorship deal. Why did she close the door?
Were the world a little bit different, perhaps she would have let the man in, but it wasn’t. There was no glory in winning female tournaments, not for Amanda. The girl prefered not to play in any tournaments at all than waste her time on pseudo competitions for all those anti-talented plastic dolls. Not even for money, which she didn’t have to worry about. Her daddy was always generous to her.
After the jog Amanda stopped by the store and then headed home with a bag stuffed with groceries and cigarettes. And candy. Amanda loved candy, it was the one thing she could not resist. That is if you forget Doom. She ran up the staircase, trying to double jump all the way in a series of one and three stair leaps. Then, with a Mars bar in her mouth, she opened the door to her flat and made her way to her computer room. The girl tossed the shopping onto her bed and rested in her seat. Only spam in her mailbox and no messages on ICQ. She skimmed ESReality for news, there were a few articles of interest but she decided to read them later, after she has had her shower. And after she has had her meal. Amanda turned the music on and took the grocery bag to the kitchen. Straight from there, she went to the bathroom and took a quick shower.
She was feeling a whole lot better than just two a couple of hours before. Now all she needed was to stop starving. With a knife in her hand and a cigarette in her mouth she started to think what she’d like to cook for dinner. It was nearly six in the evening but it was always dinner for Amanda, no matter the hour. With the doomer eating only one meal a day, at somewhat unpredictable times, it was a lot more convenient to call all the meals dinner. It was a good thing that the pizza place round the block was open till midnight. Good idea! Pizza!
Amanda dropped the knife onto the table, tossed the whole bag of shopping into the fridge and headed for her room. She clicked the Doom icon and picked up the telephone at the same time. The girl pressed two keys to dial. “Yes, the usual please”.
Rating: 4 / 5 stars - 4 vote(s).
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