[ WP ] Every 24 hours , your mind is switched to another body , each in a stranger scenario than the last .

Unemployment had hit 73 %, crime rates were soaring and chaos was gripping the world. It was a strange world that our protagonist found himself awaking in, a world that simply didn ’ t make sense to him. He had awoken, alarm clock blaring out at 9am like it always did. It seemed like any other day, until he had looked outside the window. Houses were boarded up, and the streets were completely deserted. 
 
 The shrimp in his tank stared back at him, shrimp he didn ’ t remember ever owning. Now that he thought about, the entire room was alien to him. The bed was similar, but not the same. Even the intensity of the lightbulbs above him was different. Something was odd about this, that he was sure of. 
 
 Making his way to his kitchen, he noticed other small differences. His microwave looked filthy, the gaming PC he had spent so much money on, replaced by a rather old looking machine. In a small room, which he had once thought of as his ‘ games room ’ he found multiple copies of the same photo, plastered all over the wall. Scribblings all over them, in his own handwriting. A note on his desk, implying that he had a man locked up in his house. Was he going crazy perhaps? No, dear reader, our protagonist was not crazy… not yet at least. He was awoken from his thoughts as a notification popped up on his phone screen. “ You have been selected. ” A chilling statement, one that sent shivers down his young spine. Selected for what exactly, where exactly was he? By this point, he ’ d figured out that something was indeed wrong. His memory was hazy to say the least, but this life he was currently in, it was not his. 
 
 A loud knock on his door interrupted his thoughts before he could find out exactly what was going on. The memory was almost in his grasp, he could feel his neurones tingling in anticipation. The man who stood in front of him looked like someone he should remember, he had one of those faces. An old friend perhaps, maybe even a distant relative. Stranger still the man in front of him seemed to know him, and began shouting in a language that he simply couldn ’ t understand. 
 
 The events occurred quickly, too quickly for his liking. He found himself in what appeared to be a police car, but it wasn ’ t. That he was sure of. The way in which the red light shifted to the blue was different, the badge looked ever so slightly bigger than he remembered it being. At this point, he found himself questioning his sanity in the back seat of the car as they travelled towards the prison. The officer shoved him into the cell, but the clang it made as it shut, it wasn ’ t the clang of metal. That he was sure of. Even the bed that he lay on as he had these thoughts, it felt different. As if he was laying on the floor and not a bed. It is to be noted that our protagonist is a gifted young fellow, and he came to the logical conclusion that the floor therefore must be as soft as a bed. To his surprise, his theory worked and he soon found himself drifting into an unknown world of dreams. It was different, that he was sure of. 
 
 9am. He awoke, no recollection of what had occurred on the previous day. No longer behind bars, he got up ready to resume his normal life. He showered, ate breakfast, and went out with his friends. The toothpaste was slightly too bitter, that he was sure of. The eggs too hard, his friend ’ s laughter just ever so slightly exaggerated. Upon returning home he stumbled across a Writing prompt on Reddit, a website he frequented. But the prompt itself was different, but in a strange way. Why had the prompt been written? ‘ Every 24 hours, your mind is switched to another body, each in a stranger scenario than the last. ’ It was as if it was telling him something, but for the life of him our protagonist couldn ’ t quite work it out. It ’ d all click together at some point, that he was sure of. He typed his response, slowly and carefully choosing each word, every letter on his keyboard feeling slightly too spaced out. Upon finishing he submitted the story, and found himself falling asleep at the keyboard. 
 
 The next day, you awoke. All day it ’ s been bugging you. Everything seems a bit different, doesn ’ t it? Your screen seems a bit dimmer than usual, the room you ’ re in right now a bit larger. The stories you ’ re reading, they ’ re not normal. They seem strange, that you are sure of. I ’ ll give you a warning, in 24 hours you will not be sure of anything anymore. Shut down everything, pray to whichever god you believe in. Try to rationalise this, if you wish. This is a story with no ending, the next paragraph begins when the clock strikes 9. 
 
 -- -- 
 /r/KNDwrites has some pretty cool stories, that you are sure of.
