The beginning of it all

The blinds fluttered as the wind blew in from the open window of the small apartment. The white wallpaper seemed to recoil from the intense sunlight streaming through, creating a stark contrast. The room, plain and rather empty, echoed with the occasional creak of the worn floorboards.

Toward the corner of the room, a slender boy slumped on his small bed. Oliver Mercer, in a plain black t-shirt and grey cotton shorts, appeared almost like a shadow against the muted backdrop. His dark tousled hair hinted at a lack of concern for appearances, and his ocean blue eyes, lost in thought, were fixed on the distant cityscape visible through the open window.

The air in the room felt heavy with a sense of isolation, and the only sound was the distant hum of the city below. Oliver's surroundings mirrored the simplicity of his existence, a canvas waiting for the colours of his imagination to bring it to life.

Oliver sighed, his gaze fixed on the bustling city outside. "Why bother with them?" he muttered to himself, a bitter undertone in his voice. "Humans are disgusting, why should I live like this in such a boring place! I'm better off alone in my own world."

His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on the dusty surface of the nightstand just to the right of his bed. "Maybe one day, my fantasies will become more than just a refuge," he continued, a hint of longing in his eyes. "This city, this life—it's all so mundane. I wish for something extraordinary, something beyond the monotony of this existence."

As he spoke, a thought crystallised in his mind, and he glanced at the worn laptop on the nightstand. "Perhaps there's more to my daydreams than meets the eye. Maybe, just maybe, there's a way to escape this mundane reality and find solace in a world of my own creation."

Oliver Mercer, a plain 19-year-old, was raised in a family filled with conflict. Despite the material wealth that surrounded him, his journey was one of gradual retreat into the realms of movies, novels, and video games. The allure of these alternate universes became an escape from familial discord, transforming a once sociable boy into a self-imposed recluse.

The wealth of his family did little to shield Oliver from the disintegration of his home life. Arguments became a constant backdrop, each clash echoing through the halls of privilege. Unable to bear the weight of his family's tumultuous dynamics, Oliver sought solace in the fictional landscapes he curated for himself.

As the gulf between him and his family widened, so did the chasm of social anxiety. His self-imposed isolation became a fortress against the chaos outside. The more he distanced himself, the more reality seemed to blur, leading him down the path of derealization.

Two weeks ago marked his escape. Oliver, driven by an urgency to sever ties with the discordant past, traded the opulence of his familial home for the simplicity of a small apartment.

Dawn settled, casting a pale light across Oliver's cramped apartment. Yet, he remained cocooned in the solitude of his bed, a haven where imagination flowed freely. The soft glow of his laptop illuminated his intent gaze as he wrote descriptions of characters and companions in a world of his own making.

Before succumbing to the embrace of sleep, Oliver Mercer sighed, his eyes shifting from the glowing screen to the city beyond. A sea of lights blinked in distant buildings, a sight that felt both enchanting and indifferent. The hum of the city below, a constant companion, seemed to echo his internal dialogue.

"Maybe one day, these characters won't just be pixels on a screen," he mused, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "Maybe, just maybe, the city outside will be as welcoming as the one within these stories."

With a final gaze at the flickering lights and the silent city, Oliver closed the laptop, the glow fading. The room settled into darkness, a canvas awaiting the brushstrokes of dreams. 

....

Oliver's transition from the world of dreams to an unfamiliar reality was abrupt. As he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on a hard floor made of dark oak, the same wood adorning the ceiling and walls around him.

Two windows, one directly above his head and another opposite him, beckoned him to explore the unknown. Wearily, Oliver pushed himself upright and approached the window, peering through the aged glass. What lay beyond was a sight straight from the pages of mediaeval lore—a world draped in poverty and hardship.

The scene unfolded like a tableau of another time. Dilapidated structures lined narrow, cobblestone streets. Tattered banners fluttered in the wind, revealing a kingdom that bore the scars of adversity. The air was thick with the scent of hardship, and the distant sounds of daily life echoed a struggle for survival.

As Oliver absorbed the unfamiliar sights, a realisation dawned—he was no longer in the mundane cityscape he had known. The mediaeval world outside the window stretched before him, beckoning him.

Oliver's pale face twisted in panic as the unfamiliar surroundings triggered a surge of anxiety. His vision blurred, and a disorienting sensation washed over him, threatening to pull him into unconsciousness. The weight of the unknown bore down on him, and the medieval world beyond the window seemed like a surreal nightmare.

Amidst the chaos of his emotions, Oliver's gaze fixated on the small desk in the corner, fashioned from the same dark oak that adorned the room. Its surface held an ancient book, its leather cover whispering promises of forgotten secrets. Enchanted, he felt an inexplicable pull, and his movements became almost involuntary.

Approaching the desk with arms wide open, Oliver stroked the book's cover with careful reverence. The touch seemed to unlock something within him, an eagerness to unveil the mysteries concealed within the ancient pages. As he slowly opened the book to its first page, a blinding explosion of light engulfed him, launching his frail body across the room.

The force sent him crashing into the hard wall before gravity claimed him, and he collapsed to the floor in a heap. The room fell into an eerie silence, and Oliver, now lay unconscious.

…..