Breaching Boredom

Link to article: Breaching Boredom.

Module Styles

• (none)

Inline Styles

• (none)

Includes

• :scp-wiki:theme:black-highlighter-theme [info]
• :scp-wiki:component:pride-highlighter [info]
• component:ratio-bar
• :scp-wiki:info:start [info]
• component:ratio-bar
• :scp-wiki:info:end [info]
• :scp-wiki:component:license-box [info]
• :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end [info]

CSS Classes

• (none)

Page Source

[[include :scp-wiki:theme:black-highlighter-theme]]

[[include :scp-wiki:component:pride-highlighter |inc-bi-alt= --]]]

[[include component:ratio-bar base=-- |ex=--]]
[[include :scp-wiki:info:start]]
@@ @@
**"Breaching Boredom" by:** [[*user Doctor Fullham]]
@@ @@
[[=]]
+++ [http://www.scp-wiki.net/doctor-fullham ♫ Doctor Fullham's Author Page ♫]
[[/=]]
[[include component:ratio-bar pie=--]]
[[include :scp-wiki:info:end]]

//3 am.//

Awake again at this godawful hour. The bland, off-white paint on my walls seems like it's mocking me with its painfully insipid monotony. Is this a home, an office, or a comfortable prison cell? The line blurs more and more every day. I try to read one of the many books upon the shelf, but the letters may as well be an alien language as my eyes unfocus and glaze over the pages.

Sleep once again eludes me. The stack of documents awaiting my attention can't hold it. 

The lights are on, but I wonder if anyone was ever home.

-----------------

//3 am.//

Awake again at this godawful hour. The eggshell aesthetic of my environment is the visual equivalent of nails on a chalkboard by now. How long have I actually been here? The days have melted together like the flesh of a Sarkic cult. My fingers drum an empty, meaningless rhythm on the desktop.

Sleep is a stranger to me. I question if we were ever more than passing acquaintances.

-----------------

//3 am.//

Awake again at this godawful hour. White, grey, white, grey, broken up only sporadically by dull greens and blues. The torrential downpour of nothingness is suffocating. When was the last time I felt passion? When was the last time I felt excitement?

When was the last time I //felt//?

----------

//3 am.//

Awake again at this godawful hour. Memories of color fade more and more as the inevitable march of time forces me to submit. My senses fade in and out at random. 

Where am I? Am I anywhere at all? //Am I at all//?

----------

//6:27 am.//

Awake. Alert. Alive. Active. 

//Exhilarating.//

A siren blares, the normally jarring klaxon sounding like an angelic chorus. The red beacon lights up the room like a disco den. The acrid stench of smoke floods me with memories of delectable, decadent dishes, and my mouth is overwhelmed with the taste of my own saliva. The hard leather of the chair pulls at my sweat-slicked skin as I stand. 

A voice other than my own shatters the walls of my mundanity.

[[=]]
> **{{ALERT. CONTAINMENT BREACH. EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY.}}** 

[[/=]]

I hear screams. 

Gunfire. 

Pounding footsteps.

I scream as well, but not in fear. 

**//Finally, something different.//**

[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]]
[!-- N/A (No Images)  --]
[[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]