[ WP ] You 're friend keeps talking like he is breaking the `` Fourth Wall '' and you 're no longer sure he 's acting crazy .

The phone rang in the middle of the night, the light of the screen breaking the blackness. Fumbling from under my covers, I reached down and stabbed a hand towards the shrill noise. 
 
 `` Hnh...?'' 
 
 `` Morrie, y-you got ta wake up! This is it, this is our chance! We got ta get the upvotes, Morrie!'' 
 
 It took a few seconds for my sleep-addled brain to process the imperative, and a few more to try and translate it into something comprehensible. 
 
 `` Did... did you call me at three in the morning so I could look at a stupid forum post, Grant?'' 
 
 `` NO, Morrie, you idiot, you're wasting time! I do n't want you to look at a forum post, I'm-I'm telling you we ARE a forum post!'' 
 
 ``... you need help, Grant.'' 
 
 Moving the frenzied shouting from my ear, I poked the red disconnect button and set the phone aside. Lately, Grant had been on a weird kick, talking about'the world beyond', and'the writer'. At first, I thought it was harmless, but it was getting more and more annoying - Grant was disappearing into his garage for days at a time, coming out disheveled and muttering. If he did n't work from home already, his boss would have fired him - and I was n't entirely sure that his job was n't in danger anyway. Now frantic, crazy calls in the middle of the night? First thing tomorrow, I was gon na go over there, and see that he got some real help... but tomorrow. For now, sleep... 
 
 **BAM BAM BAM** 
 
 `` MORRIE! Morrie, let me in! You g- got ta let me in, Morrie!'' 
 
 I jerked out of the light sleep I'd managed to fall back into, the pounding on the door not stopping for a second. Grabbing my glasses, I stumbled down to the door in my t-shirt and boxers. Opening it just a crack, I was pushed back by Grant, tousled black hair and long lanky arms managing to shove past me into the hall. 
 
 `` Oh thank the writer, Morrie, that evil bitch! You and me, we got ta - we got ta get going! There's no time to lose, we have to get the upvotes if we w-want to live, Morrie!'' 
 
 `` Have you lost your MIND, Grant? It's the middle of the damn night, and you're screaming at me about upvotes?!'' 
 
 Grant reached over and grabbed me, shaking me violently. 
 
 `` D-do n't you get it, Morrie? None of this is REAL! We're characters, we're just words on a page! A-and this, this is o*uuuu*r only chance to exist!'' 
 
 I pushed Grant back, stumbling away from him as he stared at me with wide, manic eyes. 
 
 `` Look around you, Morrie! Look at the level of detail of your house! What's over there in the corner? Where are all the lit-little decorations and imperfections? Where are the thousands of tiny little things that are always there when you look even though you never really notice them?'' 
 
 Groaning, I looked around the hallway, trying to figure out what he was on about. The level of detail of the house? It was a standard two-story house, drywall everywhere over carpeted floors. There was n't anything unusual about it. And in the corner-? 
 
 `` That's Daisy, Grant. That's the cat? You know, the cat you've seen a thousand times? And what the hell are you talking about, the'thousands of tiny little things'-'' 
 
 I got cut off as Grant reached out to grab my head, holding it firmly in place so I could n't turn it. 
 
 `` Tell me what color- tell me the color the cat is, Morrie! Do n't look at it, just tell me! Do n't give the writer time to think of a description for the cat, or a bunch of - a ton of details and backstory!'' 
 
 `` Are you on DRUGS?! Let go of me, Grant!'' I tried to twist my head out of his grasp, thinking of Daisy and the first day I'd adopted her- 
 
 **SMACK** 
 
 Grant hauled off and smacked me across the face. `` I said do n't give the writer time to think up - to flesh out the cat, Morrie! Tell me what color your precious cat is right now! You ca n't, can you?!'' 
 
 `` Of course I can, you lunatic! It's-'' I hesitated. It only took a split second to remember the cat was- 
 
 **SMACK** 
 
 `` Stop thinking, you idiot, you're playing right into her hands! Just say the color! SAY THE COLOR OF THE CAT, MORRIE!'' 
 
 `` I DO N'T KNOW!'' 
 
 I froze as Grant let go of my head. I did n't know. How could I not know what color my cat was? I'd had her for- how long had I had the cat for? 
 
 `` You see, you do n't know, do you? You ca n't remember a thing ABOUT the cat, can you, Morrie? Because up until a few seconds ago, you did n't even HAVE a cat!'' 
 
 Shaken, I turned to look down at the cat, who now looked back up at me, green eyes staring curiously out from short black fur. Looking at her now, it seemed obvious, and I felt a swell of shame at having doubted the poor cat's existence. But even with that shame, I could n't stop looking at the cat - like she would stop existing if I turned my head away again, even for a second. 
 
 `` You-you can stop looking at her, Morrie, she's real for NOW. Hell, she's probably safer than we are. The author obviously likes cats, or you would have a dog, or a lizard, or a fish tank or something. That's good, that's good, it means she- she wants to humanize you, she wants to give you a chance. Not like ME, not like craaaaazy Grant, Morrie. No, y-you get to be the straight man, Morrie, while I have to be the lunatic who breaks into your house and smacks you around to show you the truth! Or DOES N'T show you, since that's the best way to spot the shoddy workmanship of this entire thing.'' 
 
 My head was spinning, and I was starting to think it was n't just from being smacked. `` S-shoddy workmanship, Grant? What do you mean?'' 
 
 `` I mean, she slacks off on the DETAILS, Morrie! She gave you a cat, but she did n't want to describe it! She gave you a house, but it- it's a really basic house! I mean, it's got drywall, it's got carpet, but where's the shoe rack? Where's the kitchen? Is the kitchen clean, does, does it have mold growing on dishes? Do you have a garage? Is there a car in the garage? What kind of car is it, Morrie? She is n't flesh- fleshing out the small details that make it more than just a vague se*ttttt*ting!'' 
 
 I looked around frantically, but it was too late - Grant was right. The walls were solid enough, so was the carpet, but I suddenly realized I did n't know where the staircase was in relation to the door, or what car I drove, or if I drove a car at all. The only things that felt real were myself, Grant, the carpet and walls - and Daisy, who was now encircling my feet. 
 
 `` Oh, my god... Grant, w-what do we do?'' 
 
 `` We got ta get the upvotes, Morrie! If-if we can get enough of the upvotes, we can get her to keep writing about us! I j*uuuuu*st need some more time! If we can get her to write about us for long enough, I-I can keep us around forever! That's what I've been working on in the garage! We just have to get back there!'' 
 
 Grant started to pull me towards the open door, and the uncertain, undefined world outside. Trying not to hyperventilate, I stumbled forward, then stopped, and dashed back. 
 
 `` Morrie, wh*aaaaaa*t- what are you DOING?! We're almost out of TIME, Morrie!'' 
 
 `` I got ta take the cat with us, Grant! She deserves to live, too!'' 
 
 `` The cat will be FINE, you moron! The writer prob- probably uses it all the time! We're the ones who're gon na cease to exist if you do n't quit fucking around!'' 
 
 `` You do n't know that, Grant! Maybe she's only going to use the cat for this one post! She's in it with us, now!'' 
 
 Grabbing the cat quickly, I ran out the door, praying whatever Grant had in his garage could save us...
