Hello, I'm the Narrator of this story. Today, the main character, also known as Bob, is walking down a lonely street with a beer in his hands. He's just been fired from his job, and his girlfriend has dumped him for someone else. Poor guy. He must be in despair. Bob got ready to cross the road. He stumbled onto the road like the drunk monkey he is and-
BOB WATCH OUT!
I'm back, with now a dead Bob. He is currently standing in the middle of a white void, the unknown. We call it the white room. Bob looked around, wondering where he-
"Uh, who are you?"
Oh, Bob is staring right at me. I'm shocked. I'm just a ball of light hovering above his head. How did he notice me?
"I can still hear you."
Oops.
"Who are you?"
I'm one of the narrators.
"One of the narrators?"
There are thousands of us. We used to be humans in a past life. After we died, we came here as heavy balls of energy light. Most people call us the sun, ha! Fools.
"Woah woah woah, so there are thousands of variations of conscious suns that basically stalk the people on Earth?"
Well, how do you think stories are created? Bob stares at me in shock.
"Stop doing that! Look, I just want to go home."
Bob walks away. So I decide to follow him.
Bob, where do you think you're going?
"I'm leaving."
There is no way out. You are dead. Bob stops abruptly.
"No, I can't be dead."
He turns to look at me.
"I have a girlfriend!"
Ex-girlfriend... I'm sorry, I can't do anything about it. Once you die, I can't help you anymore, and your story ends. It's a part of life, Bob.
"Then why are you still here?"
Well, I-I don't know...
"I must find an answer to this. Something doesn't feel right."
Bob walks away from me again.
As he goes, I can't help but think about what he said. Why am I still here? He's dead. It should be over, right?
"Well, if everything is a story, then maybe this is also part of the story."
But what is there left to this story?
"What's that?"
A cat walks by and rubs against Bob's legs. She purrs softly and lets out a meow. Bob pets the cat.
"Awww, how cute!"
The cat turns into a lion and roars. Bob screams and runs off. Ugh, Bob, wait for me! I float after him.
Oh, thank god, that cat's gone. Now we can continue our calming walk...
Oh no, what's that?
"It looks like a scarecrow."
Ah, I see—the Wizard of Oz. Good movie.
"Narrator look"
Bob points at a boy with black hair, glasses and a scar. Huh, Harry Potter. Why is he here?
“Look, Narrator. It’s all the characters from different stories.”
That’s strange. Something isn’t right here. The Queen of Hearts takes hold of Bob by the shirt and grabs his face.
“You are not part of my land.”
The Queen of Hearts yells into his face. Bob signals for help to me. OK, maybe it’s time to leave. Bob takes the Queen of Hearts' hands off his face and walks off.
The characters behind me are getting into a fight as we leave.
Bob, am I hallucinating or is that a wooden D?
“I swear to God, if this is another character, I will start crying.”
Please don’t do that. I’m not comfortable with people crying in front of me. Bob ignores me as usual, and he goes to get the door.
“NO!”
An echoey voice yells from behind the door.
“Who the hell was that?”
I think it came from behind the door. Bob opens the door to reveal a guy getting suffocated by an endless amount of paper. The guy is wearing a black tuxedo and has the longest moustache ever. Hmmmm, I don’t remember this character.
“I don’t think he’s a character.”
A machine records what the other narrators say, including me and Bob. It is obnoxious hearing two versions of me talking. The guy from the room stands up and starts shoving pieces of parchment.
“You guys need to go. There was an issue with the storymaker, and, for some reason, the characters have somehow escaped their stories, including you.”
Bob seems surprised by the Narrator’s response.
“Me?”
“Yes, you are supposed to be dead, and the narrator should have faded by now.”
What do you mean by faded? The guy takes out a machine from inside the closet and clicks something that makes the machine glow.
“I think it’s time you guys leave.”
Bob’s hands start turning into dust. You can’t do that to Bob!
“Ahh yes, I have a new story for you. Oliver twist.”
I don’t want more stories. I want to be with my friend. I hear Bob scream and cry out a long time. Let go of him.
The guy watches Bob cry but shows no type of remorse or guilt.
“I’m sorry, this is how the stories go. You cannot change the course of the story.”
Bob’s face and body are catching fire while letting out an agonizing scream.
“Narrator, It’s time you leave.”
Please don’t do this. I suddenly feel something on my face, tears. Tears fall down my face as I see Bob take his last breath. I lived my entire narrating life with him… and now I’m gone.
“It’s time you forget about all this and move on.”
But-
“Look, let me explain something to you. You are a narrator, which means you weren’t assigned a narrator during your human life, so you don’t get to die. This is your eternal life. This is your job, keep the people entertained. You don’t get to create relationships and friendships."
But that’s not fair. I can’t even remember who I am. I mean, Did you ever
even bother to consider that this isn’t the life I want.
“No one wants this life. The fortunate ones get to die, and the unfortunate ones end up here. We create stories, Narrator, be happy about that.”
I am about to reply, but the guy is flashing something in my eyes that makes me spiral into the sky and fall unconscious in the middle of the white room.
…Hello, I’m the Narrator of this story…
