Eugene placed his finger on his setup's power button firmly, pressing it lightly a small click followed. The motherboard slowly came to life, the cooling fan spun swiftly, and small white, yellow and green LED bulbs lit up on the edge of the board looking like mini christmas lights.
It was a briefly mesmerizing sight for Eugene, though his eyes quickly turned their attention to the screen. His fingers dancing across the keyboard as he entered his password. The screen displayed a brief loading up circle, before the desktop popped up.
After a few more clicks, the website he published his stories on came into view. As well as the blank draft that had autosaved from last night.
"fuck..." Eugene cussed in a whisper.
The blank page let off a bright glow as Eugene stared at it, feeling it burn into his retinas as he continued to gaze at the empty page. He could almost hear it speaking to him.
"Father...why have you forsaken me? Why have you left me blank and soulless? Why?"
Cupping his face in his hands. Eugene let out a deep drawn out sigh. The sound reverberating across his chest. Like thunder rolling across a grey and gloomy sky.
The blank page felt a little greyer than white now.
"...I need to write...something" He whispered into his palms. Looking up at the screen through half lidded eyes. His pupils lifeless, like that of a dead fish.
What would he write? His last chapter turned into an unexpected tangent. The flow was all over the place. descriptions of the weather and time became inconsistent the further he described the setting, and he had written more than a of couple plot-holes into the story. Many of which, his readers had been more than eager to point out. Like witch hunters from salem, it felt as though the readers had intentionally scoured his story just for the sake of finding the plot-holes, and only the plot-holes.
Eugene had a theory, that 75%...no, 80% of his reader count were internet trolls who read the story only for the sake of criticizing it, and burning it down to ash. Again, witch hunters.
Clenching his hands atop the makeshift desk, Eugene prepared himself. Like a warrior about to charge into a rain of arrows.
He prepared himself...to write.
Write what you ask? Anything. He needed to post a chapter, and ANYTHING would do at this point. Being late was worse and if he wanted to salvage what little exposure he was getting on the site, he needed to consistently churn out chapters on a daily basis. Even if it meant doing what any writer dreaded doing. Posting a shitty piece.
A bitter taste clung to the roof of his mouth, the kind that would evoke tears in its wake. And yet, his mouth felt dry.
In hindsight, that's probably where the bitterness came from.
"I should've brushed my teeth last night..." Eugene pondered for a moment.
His palms stretched out, looming over the keyboard keys. Pausing briefly, Eugene gathered his thoughts... breathing lightly in through his nose. The feeling of fresh air filling his lungs soothed the pressure that was slowly squeezing his chest. Soon he felt calm.
Yes...calm.
Not fucking inspired.
With a loud thud, Eugene smashed his fists on the desk, whispering a shout of profanities.
"FUCK! FUCK! f~U~c~K! I AM FUUUUU—UUCKED!!!!" He shouted, through his nose, as quietly as possible. His voice coming out in a pitchy nasal tune.
Now that it didn't matter what he was going to write, Eugene was now plagued with how. How does one write without an idea? Eugene had no fucking clue how. Once again as the textbook definition of a struggling writer, Eugene was unsure of how to begin.
He racked his brain over and over, churning words and ideas together, desperately trying to concoct something. But nothing came to mind.Dragging the mouse across the mousepad, Eugene clicked back to his recent chapters, reading through it up until last night's release. In a terrible twist of causality however, the more he read through his work the worse his chapters flowed.
There was no cohesion to the story at all. Eugene didn't know how to describe what he felt as his eyes combed over the paragraphs of his work. It felt like reading something that was written by a chicken, mid-epileptic seizure. Characters were written consistently-inconsistently, many a times seemingly suffering from severe cases of bipolar disorder.
Settings blurred into vague imageries and descriptions that gave the feeling as though the reader were half blind in one and cross eyed in the other. Tastes and touch were mixed in a jumble of nonsensical metaphors.It was simply a catastrophe.Eugene leaned back in his chair, his shoulders sagging to the point of nearly popping out of their sockets... figuratively, he felt as though he had been beaten black and blue. Physically, his chest felt heavy, and beneath his ribs he could feel a coldness begin to permeate his heart.
"... I'm not cut out for this at all..." he whispered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his face marred with frustration.
Now he understood the way his readers felt. Russian Roulette sounded more and more pleasant the longer he tried to write. He chewed on his lower lip, the action distracting him from the discomfort he was experiencing.
The page remained empty for the rest of the afternoon taunting him relentlessly with it's bright and glaring emptiness.
---
The sun slowly drifted across the sky, finally beginning to dip into the horizon by the time it turned 5:00 in the afternoon. Eugene had been laying in his bed, staring emptily at the old crusty ceiling of the run down apartment room. The paint had begun to peel off here and there. It was...to say the least, a very sad sight.
Eugene sighed throwing his leg over the edge of the claustrophobic bed and pulled himself up. The orange glow from the window tinted his room in a somber shade of citrus. The afternoon wind blowing in from the opened window felt cool, so he grabbed a shirt from his drawer, and put on the black vest he always wore out on walks. He had stayed too long inside the house. It was time to go for a nice refreshing walk outside. Hoping that the breath of fresh air would help inspire his mind.
He put on the pair of old hand-me-down sneakers, one gifted by a relative who's name he barely remembered, and exited his room.
A soft thunk alerted him as he closed his bedroom door behind him. His mother stood in the kitchen having brewed fresh cups of coffee, one in a flowery coffee mug, the other in a plain black mug that was a bit bigger than normal.
A small smile curled Eugene's lips. His mom smiled kindly and gestured for him to join. Eugene walked over to her, and sat down unable to contain his sigh. His mother handed him a plate of assorted pastries. The aroma of the still warm bread assaulted his nose, it smelled of chocolate, cinnamon and sweet buttery goodness. Locally baked and sold by the neighbouring bakers. They had the privilege of being able to purchase a fresh batch every afternoon, being so close to where the bakeshop owners lived.
The sight stirred his appetite, prompting him to grab a chocolate glazed snack. Placing it in his mouth, he took a small bite relishing the rich flavor, covering his tongue in the chocolate glaze as he licked it.
"You didn't spend all day in your room now did you?" His mother began, her smile softening as she watched his son hesitate. Eugene was about to take another bite but decided to answer her question first. "I-I'm sorry mom...there was something I needed to work on, and I lost track of time", his eyelids twitching ever so slightly. The edge of his lips creasing from a wry smile.
His mother mirrored the gesture as he took another bite of the chocolate glazed bread. The taste now bittersweet on his palate.
"I understand...just be sure not to stay on your computer the entire day. Staring at a monitor for too long is bad for your eyesight... and you already have bad eyes from staying up late your entire time in high school" His mother said, a worried expression on her face. The midst of her forehead creasing ever so slightly in a worn out expression. For a brief moment, Eugene glimpsed the weight of exhaustion in his mothers tired expression.
Suddenly his shoulders felt heavier, weighed down by a sense of guilt, shame, and some other heavy feeling he could not name.
Squeezing his hands into a fist beneath the counter, he took a deep breath and firmly nodded his head. "Don't worry...It's not for anything unnecessary, I promise—it might even help us out in the future...if it works" mustering what he thought a reassuring smile would look like, Eugene reassured her mother.
His mother gave him a long quiet look, the glow in her eyes subtle and searching. It made him doubt his acting skills, he wasn't much of an actor in the first place.
"I-in any case...It's not something to worry about, I promise...Oh and...Is there anything you need me to get while I'm outside? I was going to go for a walk before you offered coffee" Eugene stood up, drinking the coffee in mouthfuls as he passed the sink, depositing the mug on his way out of the apartment.
"I bought some groceries during the Route earlier, and left them at the bakery. I told the owners that one of my boys would come by to pick it up. That's all...and be safe Eugene...don't use your headset outside okey?" His mom reminded gently.
Eugene's brow twitched. The headset held aloft his head hovering jus over his ears.
"Y-yeah, I'll be careful mom!" He shouted over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him and made his way out of the apartment.