Chapter 1
When I woke up this morning, I noticed something odd. Actually, “noticed” is a strong word; something was decidedly different about the feeling of this morning, but I couldn’t nominate any particular aspect of my surroundings to blame for this. This was only the vague impression I got in the seconds following my waking, so I crawled out of my bed and walked downstairs to go eat my usual breakfast. I never made my bed because I’d always go back to sleep in it anyways. What’s the point of such a futile habit? I promised myself in that moment, as I did at the same time every day, that I’d never waste my time doing such a stupid thing.
As I reached the end of the staircase, entering the hallway leading to my kitchen, the sense of unusuality grew stronger and began intermingling with an air of unease. Strange feelings are never a good sign for somebody just trying to get through their routines. But I am brave, so I continued. At a glance, everything appeared normal, but the strangeness of the situation was undeniable for some reason, strangely enough. I opened my pantry door and scrounged around looking for my Honey Nut Cheerios. Well, no, just regular Cheerios. Some bastard had already bought all the Honey Nut Cheerios before I had gotten to the store, only leaving me the boring regular kind. Fuck that guy. Whatever, it’s fine. I poured my Cheerios into a bowl and prepared myself for the most exciting part of my morning cereal: the milk. Regular cereal by itself was bland, there was no excitement! Milk is the quintessence of a spectacular breakfast; cereal without milk is for sad, sad people, and who the hell doesn’t eat cereal for breakfast?
The answer to the rhetorical question I just posed was, startlingly, myself. You see, the moment I opened the door to my refrigerator, I was met with a heartbreaking discovery, paramount to any other problem I could possibly have. There was no milk in the fridge. The magical essence, the ingredient which could make breakfast an unforgettable event, completely absent. It was like the blood of my cereal was sucked dry like juice from a child’s juice pouch, only to be subsequently discarded due to its newfound uselessness. I felt a tear roll down my cheek. It continued to roll in accordance with gravity, finally detaching itself at my chin and falling into the cereal bowl, only adding insult to injury. This would not do. I had to figure out how this had happened. I could never forget to buy milk! My grocery list is a living document, never neglected, and I follow it to the best of my abilities. I couldn't have run out either; I buy three gallons at a time, and I just went shopping about four days ago. Something sinister was at play here, something beyond my knowledge. I looked around the kitchen, still in disbelief, until I found a newspaper I had placed on the counter. Typically, I don't read such things, but some kid presumably was paid to leave this tome of societal detritus at my doorstep, and I don't want to help it ruin the environment by throwing it away. The words that were visible from the folded paper were oddly blotched with ink, which was not my doing. I was able to make out some of it.
“Blank, resident of Bushville… 21st anniversary… took everything…”
Blank? Who the hell is that? What did he take? Could it have been my milk? That had to be it, what else could’ve happened? Was he the same asshole who bought all the Honey Nut Cheerios? He must be. I had to take my curiosities online.