Hi, my name is Brian and I died yesterday. And the day before. Life works in a funny way for me. Because I do die. But don't. Like I have infinite lives... but only one. "Huh?" that's what my wife said, a few days ago. So in order to clear things up, here is one of my so called lives.
I woke up, felt a soft sensation on my back. A bed, It had been a while since I last slept on one. Felt good. I looked at the ceiling, trying to remember something, something I couldn't quite figure. I rose from my bed, preparing some coffee and toast when I smelled smoke. I searched for the cause of the smell when I looked outside the window to see something terrifying. The world is on fire. Nearby houses were on fire, burning like large torches, with people coming out of the house, only to burn again. Their skins melt, little by little, as if ensuring the most pain to be inflicted to the person. The fire seemed to spread little by little, eventually spreading to my house. I felt no fear, relaxed even, as I poured a cup of coffee. I sat on the couch, sipping coffee while waiting to burn, saddened as to why a beautiful house like this needs to burn. As I started to wonder why the world was literally burning, my house started to be engulfed in flames. I felt the flame burned my hands, skin melting and turning into ash. It was painful, but when compared to dismemberment and torture, It was a piece of cake. I started walking around the house, ignoring the pain. That's when I noticed something strange –there was no doors nor any signs of exit. Meaning that even if I were to find a way to not burn alive, I wouldn't have been able to exit anyway. Looking around, I started to think of this house as if this was a cage to contain me, like someone enjoying watching me burn. Though I could never understand what entertainment they would gain from watching me burn. Laughing at that silly thought, I wondered if my neighbor had one. As I felt the fire starting to burn my legs, I started munching on my toast, noticing how the fire from my legs perfected the crisp. Laughing at my perfect toast, my last words were "Jam would've been great" before being completely engulfed in flames.
I think this was... 3 days ago. Man, that was such good coffee. Anyways, I die the moment I wake up. Well, maybe not. It has some slight differences, but I always die within 3 days. Maybe you can call this a time-loop, yet, every loop is different. Believe me or not, I did panic on the first few, slicing my wrists, drowning myself, hit by a truck, shot in the head, you name it I tried it. And then one day, I gave up. Enjoyed it, embraced it. Though I did find out something. In-between my deaths, there is about an hour when I'm stuck in a room, with a pen and a piece of paper. When I rip the piece of paper, it weirdly appears out of the blue. This room, where I'm writing my thoughts right now, always appears, and it remained consistent every death I've had. So I am writing this to all the people who might come after me and hoping that despite your current predicament, I have gone through it first and I am still fine.
Now, where was I? Ah, yes this room. There was one more thing I forgot to mention. A shelf and a TV set. Sorry for forgetting, but I've been coming in and out of this room so often that I forget to mention certain things. This room feels normal to me now. Like when someone gives a house tour and points to a window — they don't explain where the glass came from. Same thing here. The shelf and the TV just… exist. Part of the background. I guess I got numb to them. But the shelf, actually… it holds something interesting. I know you're curious. But not just yet. To understand why it's there, you need to understand one thing.
I have been here for far too long.
I couldn't stress that fact more. Too long, in fact, that remembering some things is painful for me. I feel like my head would explode just by trying to remember previous lives. So I developed a system to help save myself. I created a limitless memory bank. I store previous lives and experiences here, and clear it from my head. Now you might wonder, "how did you create such a thing when you only have a table and paper in this room?" Well, the thing is, while I don't know why and how I always end up in this room, I could get things just by imagining it. With a single snap, I could get a pencil. I just chose to leave a table, a TV, a shelf and a piece of paper. Because I don't need anything else not while I'm in this room. Although, I couldn't bring things with me to my "lives". Now with that out of the way, let me tell you about the shelf.