creative-escapism

 escapism

depressed teen, insolent, ignorant, wants to escape, finds video game on desk, sucked in, this sounds like jumanji, wakes up in another body (game)

30MIN

Oh, Ryan. He had really gone and done it again.

The gaunt teen ambled up to the door, his feet trudging reluctantly. He flung it open, ignoring the sanguine greeting his younger sister chirped.

"Hello, dear!" His mother said, averting her attention from the dirty dishes at hand. Ryan irritably sighed in response. The woman's countenance morphed into one of concern, worry sinking into her premature wrinkles. "Ryan, I got a call from school again. Why are you still skipping classes?"

Ryan whipped around, his voracious temper wavering. His schoolbag slammed into the floor. His sister, owl-eyed, suddenly divulged in her colouring with great interest. Thick silence penetrated the air. 

Ryan's expression was one mingled of loathing and hatred. "Mind your own business, old woman!" he snapped. Storming upstairs, the running dishwater reluctantly turned off as the two women in the family exchanged fearful glances.

The belligerent Ryan was almost drawn to his gaming chair, immediately slamming his headphones onto his ears. He seethed with rage as he rummaged through the clutter of video games. The only source of solace in a world where school was only full of bullies and torment, and home was full of annoyances. It felt as if everyone could never see through his eyes-if only there was a way.

An unfamiliar disc dissipated his vehemence, instead replacing it with confusion. He knew all his games from back to front-so where had this CD come from, already tabescent at the bottom of the cupboard?

The lid flipped open. Ryan, in a spell, slipped the disc in and gaped as the laptop swallowed it up. A whirring sound promptly began. 

Ryan could almost feel his bones crawl in instant regret as a collection of shapes and squiggles mingled together on the screen. The effulgent surface glowed onto his spotty face. He ogled at the screen. The start button glared at him. Fumbling for the mouse, his fingers shook as the clicker slid towards the button.

A flash. A bang. But no scream-it had happened all too promptly for one to even be audible. Ryan bleakly opened his eyes, scrubbing at them in exasperation. He was not in his room, seated in the plush gaming chair. Somehow he was... in the kitchen? His hands felt leathery and weathered, redolent of detergent. The sink full of dishes gleamed before him.

"Mum?" A voice murmured adjacent to him. Ryan's head snapped around, questioningly looking at his sister. Where was his mother? Why was his sister talking to him?

"Mum, are you okay?"