Tryst with words I don't understand.

"Tryst with words I don't understand."

I closed the book and sighed.

It was filled with words I didn't understand, which was the worst part of it all. Honestly, why did I even buy this book? I sighed and dropped it onto the dining table, where it'll stay until I feel bored enough to pick it back up.

Throw it out? No, it costed 30 dollars for that shitty book, I'd rather die then throw it out.

Yes, my life is worth less then 30 dollars, you got a problem with that?

I looked up from where I was eyeing the book in disgust while pondering life's problems, realising that maybe I should stop talking to myself before I enter some sort of spiral that leads me to die a horrible death.

Like depression. Or any other sickness that makes you die a horrible death.

I do not understand enough about psychology to make an accurate analysis about depression.

I should stop talking to myself.

The clock made a small chime at that moment, signalling that I was late for class.

Shit.

I need to get going now, or else I'll be even later then humanly possible.

Quickly grabbing my things and grabbing the most presentable clothes out of my closet, I got ready in a flash (ten minutes) and dove out of the door (walked), a sandwich in my mouth as I ran for my life (walked for my life and no, there was no sandwich, I'm not a romance protagonist).

Thankfully, I lived on campus, so I was only half an hour late (what did you expect? I walked to class slowly)

Quietly slinking into my seat with as much grace as a porcupine shaved had, I pulled out my books (more like forgot them) and grabbed my computer out of my bag (I had that, at least).

Though I was a fool, nothing could stop me from learning when I wanted to (which was never).

Ok, can you hear that stupid voice in my head continuously saying what I'm actually thinking and doing instead of making a cool little story? No? Great. Just me and this voice which keeps contradicting me then.

Goddamnit.

Time moved as fast as a tortoise trying to win a race, which is to say, not at all. It's just that the rabbit has taken a nap, if not I wouldn't be trying to hitch a ride on this tortoise.

What am I trying to say?

Well it doesn't matter, I guess hahah.

The bell chimed, not from anywhere in my class, but from the little alarm clock I had installed to annoy people whenever I wanted to leave class.

I think the teacher just popped a vein, but who am I to judge the woes and processions of people tired of everything in life and are barely sustaining themselves by teaching.

Snack time.

I proceeded to buy a shit ton of food from some random store and consumed it faster then a rabbit on it's last legs.

Listen, I was hungry ok? Hungry people need sustenance, you can't stop me from eating my fill.

Plus, after this I had another class where I was going to once again leave faster than anybody in that class could.

I'm lazy and are barely skirting past, so leave me to do my own shit okay? I'm tired (tired isn't a good excuse, she's just lying to get out of responsibility).

God fucking damnit.

I swear to god, I'm going to kill somebody if this voice in my head doesn't stop talking.

Just directly end it all.

Go somewhere and die.

Like in those shitty novels.

(I'm going to give you a life's purpose)

Wait what the fuck? Okay, that was distinctly not me just roasting myself in my head this time. That voice was deep and guttural and soft and fluffy and this is the reason why I don't write descriptive things because I don't know enough words to describe this voice fuck.

(Those were opposites, fool)

You're the fucking fool.

(Bitch)

Oi. You tryna start something?

Imma fucking fight you.

We can go down together.

(Listen up, you're going to be a protagonist)

What the fuck?

(Shush listen to me and you're going to have a plot)

Yo, I'm this close to smashing my head in and going to a mental asylum.

(Then you're going to have to work for once in your goddamned life)

Oi. Listen I'd seriously fight you. I'll do it. Don't test me.

(So fight like your life is on the line)

What does that even mean?!

The moment I started to question life, a loud boom came from beside me, echoing in my ears as I got thrown back by the shockwaves. The wall beside me had crumbled, leaving me open to shocked students inside who were just trying to do their homework man.

Two long legs filled with power(?) came out of that broken wall and stared down at me, a wicked grin on their face that seemed to be just implanted on their legs.

No seriously, what the fuck is up with this character design? This doesn't make sense at alL!

I dodged out of the way as the legs came soaring in my direction, very obviously looking for a fight.

Naturally, I fucking ran.

What did you think I was going to fight? Fate or not I've always been a fucking coward and cowards run away from problems all the time.

Ok there'll probably be someone with the necessary qualifications to fight this somewhere around, regardless of whatever protagonist bullshit that that voice just said was. Hey, wasn't I supposed to get a turtorial or something?

Like a guide?

To help me in troubling times?

Where's my fucking handy helper?

Fuck, it's catching up to me, guess this is how I die.

I closed my eyes real tight and prayed for my life and/or a better way to live.

Man, I shoulvde prayed for my next life to be in a better place to be born.

(Congratulations, you've unlocked the turtorial through no merits of your own! Hey, work for something once in your life, you stupid bitch!)

Oi. What the fuck am I supposed to do against legs.

If you have a better answer, come up here and fight me bitch!

I raged, and in a fit of fury turned around, opened my eyes and sucker punched the legs in the balls(?).

The next moment, a bright blue tutorial screen was congratulating me for killing my first monster, and people were cheering for me.

It was at that point at I realised.

I wasn't a romance protagonist.

I was a goddamned fantasy bitch.