There it was. Just sitting there, all alone in the corner of the damp room. I wish I had the strength to do what was right. I wish an almighty force guided my every move and told me to just walk away. But this is not a fairy tale. There isn't an ounce of willpower in my broken mind, and that almighty force is a landlord expecting rent.
The deep smell of mothballs crowded my nose, and a pathetic amount of dim light tried its best to seep under the wilting curtains. The room was surrounded with a mass of crisp packets and dated newspapers, a sight all too familiar with my fragile eyes.
Cobwebs hung in every direction as I ripped through at a painful speed. I cautiously tried to avoid a cat that slept loudly, obviously having a nightmare about a terrible beast. I gasped and stupidly attempted to grip a lamp that barely stood itself as my feet lost their balance. I was falling at an catastrophic speed. I was falling over a foot stool. I was about to fall on the cat. That cat. That poor black cat was about to live his nightmare. I was to become that terrible beast just so I could defeat that terrible beast on the sweet tooth game. I was addicted and my very being was becoming a threat to even the smallest creatures.
I landed on the soft animal with a horrific bump. My ears were deafened as the cat shrieked and leapt across the room. This could not slow me down. I'm determined to win this round. This level. No, no, no! My entire life is slowly being engulfed. I can't sleep without being tormented of the rancid zombie that remains unbeatable. I can't eat without drowning the zombie-shaped mash potato with gravy. And what is worse is that I dare not sit on the toilet in case a zombie attempts to drag me down. I'm living in filth. In fact I'm barely living at all. My life IS the game.
Continuous thuds echoed from above. Dust sprinkled from the ceiling. My heart did somersaults. The owner is coming. He's on his way and he defiantly doesn't sound like he wants to congratulate me on flattening his cat. Actually, I think he's more angry because I'm in his house. I had to get out, but what could I do? I shouldn't even be here. I maybe thought I needed his stamp collection in the bolted cabinet. But I don't. I need my shabby rented house next door, and I need to go back to work so I can pay for the electricity bill myself. And the thing I need most; my game console with the addictive zombie game. I did not need this. I hopped over the mile high heaped laundry, nearly slipping on a half eaten pizza slice. The exhilaration, the adrenaline passed through my body and I've never felt so alive; so free. The owner's voice bellowed as he neared the room. I couldn't really make out what he was saying as my laughter filled the air. Carefully zooming past deck chairs and diving over rusty antique car engines my excitement soon took over. As the man entered the room, I jumped and weaved and ducked whilst throwing rubbish. I admittedly say that I didn't hit him once. The window is getting closer. My freedom looming near. This is better than any game. I am the main character. I am going to win this level, without the cheats. I took a faithful leap at the window. Oh no. I forgot a vital point to everyday life. There are no easy obvious escape routes like in the games. My hopes came crashing down as I realised a very big mistake on my part. The murky window was closed tight and my luck has worsened because now I'm tangled up in a hideous curtain. Upon my face frantically blinking eyes watched as an incredible punch was steered my way. Game over.
I awoke in prison. I know robbing stamps so I could afford another day on some blissful game was immensely stupid. I mean, if I had escaped of course, it might've been another story. What am I saying? I am not a thief. But the thrill, oh the thrill! If only I could begin another level like that, I want to devote my whole life to beating life's veteran game. I survived, so I continue. Next level, escape the great and powerful cage that I will for a short time call home. Now I live for the adventure. I live for the stimulation. I live for the game.