(set: $TimesLooped to it + 1)
The morning light blinds you through (link: "the curtains.")[The curtains are blowing softly in the morning light. You must have forgotten to close the window last night. The birds chirp softly outside.] You blink awake, groggy, as (link: "your phone")[You grab blindly at your bedside table, holding your phone in front of your face, squinting at the harsh light. The screen tells you it is 8:25AM on September 5, 2024.
Two texts from your friend, three emails from professors, two Tiktok notifications, and five Instagram notifications.
That seems... like a lot. You stop the alarm from] blaring the song "Pompeii" by Bastille.
(if: $TimesLooped > 1)
[
[[Wait, what?]]
]
(else:)
[
[[Get out of bed.]]
[[Snooze the alarm.]]
]
(if: $TimesLooped > 1)
[
You pinch your arm, registering the slight pain as you do.
You're pretty sure you died. The phantom pain of that stings more than the pinch does, and you take a deep breath.
Another chance, maybe?
Better to stop thinking about it so hard- maybe the afterlife is some strange echo of your bedroom. A Sisyphean task then: time to [[get dressed]].
]
(else:)
[
You toss back your blankets and sigh, stretching your legs and then your arms. Your muscles burn after being curled up for nine hours. You stand up, debating the next step.
Do you [[get dressed]] or [[eat breakfast]]?
]
(set: $TimesSnoozed to it +1)
(if: $TimesSnoozed >10)
[
You blink awake and realize the room is dark, no light coming through the curtains. Your phone informs you its 3:17 AM.
Fuck.
You ignore the curious texts and well-meaning concner at your disappearance.
You [[go back to bed.|morning]]
]
(else:)
[
Nah, fuck that. Goodnight, Bastille. May you pompeii another day.
[[Go back to sleep.]]
]
The day will be made, so long as you can decide on a good fit.
(if: $TimesLooped > 1)
[
You look in [[the mirror|the mirror 2]].
]
(else:)
[
You look in [[the mirror|the mirror 1]].
Yeah.
The fit is fire.
]
Time to [[brush your teeth]] and head out!
Your stomach grumbles, and you decide its time for food, most importantly.
Except, you meant to go grocery shopping yesterday, and [[your fridge]] is looking a little sparse.
[[Cereal]] or [[Oatmeal]]?
You're wearing a vintage Britney Spears shirt and jeans. You look at a sticky note your friend once stuck to the mirror that says "YOU LOOK HOT ;)" and smile. You know its true.
Might as well finish [[getting dressed|get dressed]], though.
(if: $TimesLooped > 1)
[
prose later -- you choke and die on toothpaste. sorry kid.
And, yet, you [[wake up|morning]].
]
(else:)
[Easy enough. Your breath feels nice and minty. Time to start your day!
[[Commute to school.]]
]There's four ciders and a mostly-used tub of cream cheese. You have no bagels and no bread. The life of a college student is so hard.
Guess you'll have to look at the pantry to decide what to [[eat for breakfast|eat breakfast]].You pour cereal then milk, like a rational person.
Time to [[get dressed]].Yum. You love feeling like an old woman over a bowl of porridge in the morning.
Time to [[get dressed]]. You curl back up in bed, setting your phone aside. The extra alarms you have set are inevitably going to go off, but that's a later issue. For now, you want to sleep.
Put it all aside for a little bit longer.
[[Get out of bed.]]
[[Snooze the alarm when it goes off again.|Snooze the alarm.]] (if: $TimesLooped > 1)
[
You kind of hate taking the bus. For a minute or so, it seems as if it'll be late; you're more comfortable with the notion of staying home, but then the bus pulls up and you sigh, hopping on.
The roads are perilous.
But you make it to [[class]].
]
(else:)
[
The roads are perilous.
At least you make it to [[class]].
]
You walk into the building. You think you could navigate it in your sleep, at this point. There's [[a man repelled halfway down the window outside]], cleaning it. There's a student down the hall, banging his fist into [[the vending machine]].
A student rushes past you, sending your emotional support Hydroflask flying out of your hand. It //CLANGS!// to the floor next to you, and everyone turns to look at you. Except for [[the person that ran into you in the first place]].
You sit down in class, groaning as you see the words DERIVATIVE FUNCTIONS scrawled across the board. You like this professor, but after this, you might have to reconsider that.
[[Take detailed notes.]]
[[Zone out during class.]] (if: $TimesLooped > 1)
[
You imagine being him, dropping from the height, falling to the bottom.
Your body still hurts, and you jolt in a sympathetic hiss. The man makes eye contact with you briefly, before turning back to his work.
You shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. You've got to get to [[class]].
]
(else:)
[
You look out at him, wondering if he can see you too. It must be scary to be a window-cleaner. Maybe it's better that you chose to go to a small school, so there's no skyscrapers for him to be cleaning.
Still, must be scary.
You shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. You've got to get to [[class]].
]
(if: $TimesLooped > 1)
[You decide to go over and help the student. He's gonna get himself killed, shaking it like that, and you don't really care too much if you're a minute or two late to class, at this point.
He seizes the sides of the vending machine as you walk over, about to speak, to offer help. You watch, freezing in place as the vending machine crushes you and him, killing the both of you, slowly crushing your body where it lays, broken. You hear other students begin to scream as your consciousness fades.
Yet, still, unexpectedly, you [[wake up|morning]].
]
(else:)
[
The student looks just about ready to start shaking the machine itself. You get it, honestly. Those gluten-free cookies are expensive. You'd be shaking the machine, too.
You shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. You've got to get to [[class]].
](if: $TimesLooped > 1)
[
She crouches to grab her Hydro, lunging on the ground. You trip over her, falling into a heap on the floor.
You hit your head on the corner of the Hydroflask. It rolls away, innocently, and you go to stand, right as someone reaches down to help you up. You hit your forehead on theirs, and go crashing back down to the ground, hitting the back of your head on the sharp corner of a bench near you.
It cuts your head open, and blood starts pooling out around you. People are screaming, you register faintly, but it all turns into white noise as you die.
And, yet, you [[wake up|morning]].
]
(else:)
[
Bitch.
You shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. You've got to get to [[class]].
]Your notes have never been more perfect. You understand derivative functions perfectly. The grass seems greener, the sky bluer. What a joy it is to walk out of that class feeling like you actually get it, at least this once.
Your close friend texts you about lunch.
Do you [[accept]] or [[decline]] the offer? Your mind takes you on an elaborate daydream about dragons and swordfighting and old wizards. Your professor dismisses everyone right as you're about to save the day, and you realize you might have to snag some notes from a friend later.
Oh well. At least your mind stays rich, and your notebook doodled.
Your close friend texts you soon after your class ends about getting lunch.
Do you [[accept]] or [[decline]]?(if: $TimesLooped > 1)
[
PROSE LATER - trying (and failing) to convince your friend that you're stuck in a time loop. you head to the [[restaurant]].
]
(else:)
[
You love this guy! You accept in a heart beat, heading over to the [[restaurant]] on campus.
](if: $TimesLooped > 1)
[
The last thing you feel like doing right now is talking to someone about how your day has been. You decline, deciding to [[head home.]] Maybe if you leave now, you can avoid dying.
]
(else:)
[
You love them, but you don't feel like seeing them. Lunch with them after that class sounds rough, so you decline in the name of getting some work done.
Better head over to [[the library]], then. It would be bad to get caught in that little white lie.
]PROSE LATER -- do homework for some time.
Time to head [[home|death 1]]! Always nice to have an easy day. (if: $TimesLooped > 1)
[
PROSE LATER -- poke at food, make no real end ways. It's disappointing, and you're deeply sad abt it. Don't want to leave bc you know what's waiting for you. Still, though. you have to leave eventually.
[[leave|death 1]].
]
(else:)
[
PROSE LATER -- nice lunch with friend! hang out and start doing hw together afterwards. after a bit, head [[home|death 1]].
]PROSE LATER -- idk dawg u die somehow. car crash on the way back probably
and yet, u wake up in the [[morning]]. You're pretty sure you closed the window last night... maybe you were so tired you forgot to?
But it was definitely Thursday yesterday. It shouldn't be Thursday again.
It was definitely Thursday, right?
[[Get out of bed.]] You look at yourself closely. You definitely remember the feeling of dying. Your skin tore. You bled, pints upon pints at once, you feel. It had to have been declared a DOA.
And, yet, here you are, shirtless in front of the mirror. Skin in tact. A second chance?
Maybe you should skip today. Maybe you should just [[go back to sleep.|Go back to sleep.]]
You shake your head, holding an unsteady hand over your heart.
You grab the first shirt you make contact with and throw it over your head. You don't look in the mirror again.
Might as well [[start your commute|Commute to school.]]. It doesn't seem like a good idea to drive today. The bus makes it back to your house, and you collapse into your bed, thankful.
Testing fate has never been your preferred method of living, and today was... weird. It's been weird.
Exactly the same, over and over. It's a bad dream, maybe, except you don't know how to wake up.
You lie there, [[thinking and thinking.|death 2]].
As you lie there, you are suddenly overcome with an extreme agonizing pain.
It feels as if your brain itself is moving, twisting in on itself. You hold your breath, press your palms to your eyes.
There's only one last second to feel the blood trickling from your brain before you lose all sensation.
And, yet, you [[wake up|morning]].