The sound of chirping birds awakens Michael to his displease. He rubs his eyes and notices that the ground he had slept on isn't his bed. He opens his eyes. He is surrounded by trees...and sits on a bough?!
"Holy shit!"
He stands slowly up and clinches on the tree, which holds him.
Okay Michael, you got this. Just get down from the tree and you're good.
The young man looks down. He is not that far away from the ground. Just ten meters or so. But there is a problem. He has no shoes, or a shirt...or pants. Luckily though, there is a perfectly flat rock under the tree.
"On three...three!"
Michael jumps down and lands on the rock. Too bad that the stone is really hot.
"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Hot! Hot! Hot!"
With a big step he gets down from the rock and feels the cool grass under his feet.
Great! Just great!
"Hello? Hello-ho?! Is somebody here?"
He tries to determine the region in which he is, but he can't. Everything looks so...odd.
Where the hell am I?
He looks around again and decides that it would be for the best to get moving. Even though he doesn't exactly know where to.
How was that again? Always go north? Well, screw that! I don't even know where north is! Over there. That looks like a path...in a way.
Micheal walks to the so-called path and finds out that it's actually a small stream after steping with a food on the wet mud and slipping on it.
"Ah! My ass!"
He stands up and, out of protest, goes in the opposite direction of the stream.
I'm nearly naked, I don't know where I am and now I'm dirty...Can this day get any worse?
And so fate shows Michael that it is possible. The once so shiny and wonderful day transforms in mere moments into a rainy autumn day.
"Oh, come on!", the wet teenager screams at the clouds above him.
Somewhere in this hell must be a shelter or something!
The more rain falls on Micheals head the angrier he gets. It wouldn't be that bad if he have something to wear...
"No! Goddamnit! I hit him like five fucking times with my sniper and he still comes over and fucks me! Fucking cheaters!"
A shirtless teenager with a headset sits in in front of a big flatscreen and holds a controller in his right and a plastic bottle in his left hand. He stares at the screen, which says: Killed by xxX Reaper Xxx. Respwan in ten, nine, eight... In the background lies a dead soldier, on which another one rapidly kneeles and stands up again.
"Yeah, sure! Fucking teabag me!"
"Chill, man. It stands three to one. Flawless is save.", a voice from the headset says.
"It's not about that, bro! This guy killed me for the seventh time now and that's just because he lags like shit!"
"Or maybe you''re just a noob."
"Fuck you!"
"Aw, shit. Two guys left. A titan and a hunter. The titan used his super."
"Why didn't you just use your golden gun, man?!"
"Cause they killed me before I could use it."
"Great. Three to two now. I swear, if I have to this all over again just for the lighthouse then-"
"Michael?", a high pitched voice says.
The boy turns around. A little girl stands before the open door to his room. He looks back to his game.
"What do you want, Sophia? I'm really busy at the moment."
"I wanted to invite you to the tea party in my room."
Oh, fuck. Not that shit again...
"I can't. I have to win trials of osiris this week."
"Maybe later?"
"No. Nightfall strike."
"B-but princess Luna comes and I promised her that you will be there."
The little girl tears up.
"Well, and I'm the king of china."
"That's not true!"
"And!? So's your fucking princess!"
"She is real! You'll see!"
Sophia runs out of Michaels sight.
Little sisters, the worst thing you can have...
The gaming session (and the yelling) goes on for at least three hours until Michael finally decides to go to bed. But before he does that the young man opens his closet and takes his purse out.
Let's see...
He begins to count his 'hard earned' money. It's not really a small amount for a sixteen years old boy. Five hundred dollars. However, Michael seems to be very disappointed.
Five hundred dollars in a month...at this rate I'll never be a millionaire!
He throws the purse against a wal and turns off the lights.
It's not fair! I deserve to be rich! I spent my whole life making money! I sold lemonade! Lemonade goddamnit!
"C'mon god, I just want a chance. That's all I ask for", Michael preys.
And so he falls asleep, dreaming of a better life.
