❦Metallum

Jenna feels like her life is just a big joke, a cliche chick flick of some sort because all the worst things that potentially could happen has happened to the unfortunate, troubled girl. By now, she is almost nine-thousand-and-one percent positive that her life might actually be the new story line to some corny teens movie and that all the godly figures in the heavens above are definitely snorting at her everlasting misery. Jenna seems to be forever stuck in a bizarre whirlwind of predicaments. For one, her once straight A report full of size twelve, Tahoma font A's has been tainted with multiple, disgraceful B's. Two, she's just been sacked from her minimum wage job as a mediocre Tesco cashier because she was caught literally sleeping in the tiny storage room so now she has no income which leads to Predicament Three. The four digit balance in her savings account is rapidly turning into a three. Four, she's on a disgusting diet of ramen, tap water and shattered dreams because that's literally all she can afford. Five, rent is due on the following Friday and here she is, enveloped in the homely warmth of her grey blanket, hunched in front of her laptop letting her life slip between her very fingertips.

With her disposable fork–because (a) water bills are pricey and (b) ain't nobody got time for washing dishes–she helps herself to some ramen. "Why, do, I, , so, much, at, life," she says, enunciating each syllable as she proceeds to bang her head against the desk numerous times. This is where the prim and proper flatmate makes her entrance with a sympathetic pat on Jenna's back except there is no one at home to provide much needed moral support. Jenna cries. Internally. Sometimes, she wishes she can just lie down on the carpet floor and assess the point of the universe. Sometimes, she wishes she cannot do anything productive for the entire day without having to worry about her piles of assignments. Sometimes, she wishes she can just slip out of reality. If only that were possi-

An epiphany. It /is/ possible.

The solution is right in front of her. Sitting at the bottom of her shared, worn-down bunk bed is an advanced technology piece–GX. It has been sitting there collecting dust since the day Jenna withdrew an enormous amount of money to pay for this intriguing piece of technology. "Jenna Coleman, you are so clever," she squeals in delight, grinning to herself as she wriggles out of her blanket cocoon. She slides off the chair and lazily drags her sprawled body across the carpet floor with her forearms. Jenna squints as she scans for the shape of the familiar box in the darkness. She reaches out for the box and pulls it out. A gleeful smile tugs the girl's lips as she hastily opens the dusty box, grabbing the sophisticated headgear. Not wasting another fleeting second, she wipes off the dust with the back of her hand and excitedly puts the headgear on.

"Wait, _____, I didn't read the instructi–"

Her vision is shrouded in black. Damn it, Jenna curses, she knew this thing was too good to be true. She just stupidly wasted an entire year's worth of saving on a piece of shi– Almost instantly, a virtual world materialises right in front of her very eyes. Bytes upon bytes. Pixels upon pixels. Bubbling with anticipation, Jenna types in the required information for the program. "Clara, Leprechaun." This announcement elicits yet another squeal from the petite girl.

Various hues of grey sporadically appear and replace the previous bright colours. A grin graces Jenna now Clara's lips as she admires the magnificent view in front of her. She's standing on what seems to be the edge of some sort of building elevated a great number of metres above the rocky ground. "It's grey. It matches my soul," are the very first words Clara utters.

Real life can wait.