Seclusion

I knew a girl who’d spend every day in her room, staring at her glorified light box. Every name on the list being her own. Which is no surprise since the company has long since shut down their servers, forcing her to rely on the local leaderboard.

Her world was contained within the four corners of the basement. It was a small room filled with unfilled promises and forgotten times. Like the boxes of clothes that don’t fit anymore or the generator her father forgot to get around fixing.

The dusty blue floral curtains were slightly open, allowing the sun to peak at the mess. The birds muffled scratching being overpowered by the computer’s synthetic sound effects. The world just keeps going.

In here, everything it was constant. It’s just how she liked things. Or perhaps she’s done a good job convincing herself of that.