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You’re sprawled out on your compulsively well-made bed, as it seems to be one of the only things that give any type of structure to your day. The four walls of your bedroom have never been so fascinating. The topography of your ceiling now holds a series of fantasied fables.
You lie there pondering the [[day to come]].
<<audio lullaby2 stop>>
<<audio birds stop>>
<<audio ratsounds stop>>
<<audio bojo stop>>
Your thoughts are interrupted by a sharp buzz to your palm.
An alert appears on your phone.
You are rudely reminded by your calendar that all events for the foreseeable future are [[cancelled]].
Its June 2020. You’re heading into the 3rd month of lockdown.
[[Change your scenery.]]
You reach for the remote. An action that has been repeated so many times, you only have to gesture in that direction and the remote is magnetized to you.
You either indulge in the global streaming of [[Tiger King]] or watch the [[news]] in attempt to engage with the world events through the distorted lens of the media.
You pick up your laptop and slot it upon your femoral shaft. It clicks into place. You log into your [[emails]] or learn a [[new skill]].
Or [[find out more|https://ashleighella9.wixsite.com/mysite]] about us.
Your only indication of time is that you are now on episode seven. You question your morals and susceptibility to brainwashing as you begin to care about, who can only be described as, inherently bad people.
Time to pick your side. Cut in your [[diy mullet->HANDS]]. Or raid your wardrobe and wear only [[animal print]] for the next week.
You’re tuned in to the telescreen. The prime minister attempting to reassure the British people that the situation is all under control. Your eyes fold into the green and yellow and green and yellow and green as you are told to stay alert, go to work and stay home.
You’re anxious. You don’t leave the house for [[three days->HANDS]].
It's time to [[eat]].
<img style="-webkit-user-select: none;margin: auto;" src="https://ashella.yolasite.com/resources/DOWNLOAD.gif">
You’re in the kitchen.
You try out a [[new recipe]].
Or
Make the [[same thing]] you’ve been eating for the last 5 days.
Or
Order a [[takeaway]] and support your local business.
Chaos. You’ve got 4 pans on the go and a tray in the oven when you realise you’ve forgotten one ingredient. You have already used your permitted daily outing and daren’t face the outside again.
[[FAIL->eat]]
You know the score by now. This meal prep has become muscle memory.
You’re aligning all the required apparatus when you notice an [[anomaly]] in the sound scape of this routine.
Your food arrives.
You’re sat on the couch of your living area. Couch sunken by repetitive strain.
One hand is occupied by the food and slightly awkward packaging it arrives in. The other caresses your [[laptop.]] Gliding from key to key as you ponder.
Squeaks.
A fracture of squeaks.
A [[series of squeaks]].
The barefaced truth of your reality hits with the sound of these shrill squeaks and scurries.
You remember that you’re in the middle of a desolate city center during a global pandemic. Rendering the once gushing streets of Liverpool vacant. Rendering those same streets to the Rats.
You’re overwhelmed. Go to your [[safe space]].
You’re in the bathroom.
No windows, no connection to outside world. These four wall feel safer for some reason. Private and undisturbed.
You come here to [[relax]].
You take a [[shower]] to wash away your fears. Or [[Sit]] on the toilet and occupy your mind whilst partaking in the world wide increase of screen time.
You sit down in the shower.
It’s time to reflect.
You let the water fall forcefully like pins in your back.
Something about forgetting [[the rats]].
You choose to Google [[ethical ways]] to rid the rats.
Or
Use your once permitted daily exercise to [[source poison->find poison]] and commence battle.
Get back to cooking. You put the kettle on and turn your focus to the hob. Reach into the fridge, and pull out the thrice used pesto jar. Before you can advance, you are disrupted [[again->squeak]].
You bulk buy citronella and peppermint essential oil as google recommended this to be a deterrent. But you have your suspicions as these rats are not like rats that have come before.
[[Error->Sit]].<video wash%20hands%20final autplay
<video src="videos/washhandsfinal.mp4" width="640" height="480" autoplay></video>
Whilst singing happy brithday [[twice]]You’re in the kitchen. Not for another plunge into the cupboards but to evaluate the attempted invasion.
A Fallen soldier. The enemy is down.
You see the dead rat draped across a concrete slab.
You contemplate this victory.
Or loss? You start to question your actions.
<img style="-webkit-user-select: none;margin: auto;" src="https://ashella.yolasite.com/resources/rat-full-swing.gif">
Is this war over? Can one death be enough to warn the rest.
Is one death enough to warn the rest? Or have you just agrovated the enemy further.
As it is written;
Matthew 5:38-48 "You have heard that it was said, ‘[[Eye for eye->EYE 4 EYE]], and tooth for tooth'".
So it shall be done.
<img style="-webkit-user-select: none;margin: auto;cursor: zoom-in;" src="https://ashella.yolasite.com/resources/error1.gif" width="645" height="483">
[[GO AGAIN->Start]].
<<audio bojo play>>
You stay quiet as the screeching and scratching increases. You’re scared to move but want a better angle on the action. As you turn … eight at once filling the small bit of concrete that you call [[your garden]].
You use the volume of your voice in an attempt to reclaim some authority.
But you are too late. Like you, they have had to adapt to living in the center of Liverpool. They are accustomed to the thriving sounds of Berry street on a Saturday night. Like you they can sing along to Come on Eileen. They have a power over you.
The fear you feel for them is not reciprocated.
You see a baby one, a pup. The next generation.
Even more resilient to humans. You think about the gestation period being 21 days and begin to count how many days since lockdown started and how many new gen rats have been added to the mischief. A t0tal of … System overload. [[Reboot]].
Breathe in [[...]]
Breathe out [[....->clean]]
You plot to poison your oppressors. You leave out bait ordered from the dark web. Small but potent when consumed at once the gaffer taped package claims. But you already know that rats have mutated and developed heard immunity to off-the-shelf poisons. You already know that they now feed off the toxic pellets only resulting in increased strength and size. You hope the one you ordered is [[different.]]<img style="-webkit-user-select: none;margin: auto;cursor: zoom-in;" src="https://ashella.yolasite.com/resources/error1.gif" width="645" height="483">
[[REPLAY->Start]]
<<audio ratsounds play>>
You ponder joining a [[Zoom->Zoom quiz]] call to partake in a quiz.
Or
Dive into [[digital existence]]. In hope of finding that thing your missing.
The quiz is in full swing.
How many hearts does an octopus have?
a) [[8]]
b) [[3]]Create an account on second life.
Talk about digital [[realm]].Second life and [[flying]].
Good but dissatisfied. Your virtual existence doesn’t live up to [[expectations->laptop.]]
You never thought you’d miss work. Miss the forced human interaction and small talk. The work gossip. This is all running through your head as you sign yet another email with, I hope you’re doing well in these [[crazy times]].
Now for your new skill, learn to [[crochet]].
Thinking about work makes you mournful of the previous life.
You try [[video calling]] a family member to reach out for the connection you start to crave.
This is pleasant. It's nice to see them. You miss them. You look longingly over their digitally encoded faces. Their synthesized smiles warm you for the mean time. You feel like you have seen them, but you haven’t really, and you know that. They are just an image. The more you think about it the more the experience actually makes you sad.
Now it's time for a [[Zoom quiz]]. Perhaps this will fulfil those social desires.
CORRECT
In between the awkward silence and people talking over each other, you try to ask if anyone has learnt a new skill. But your timing is off and the yellow square highlights someone else’s face.
After your failed attempt to simulate social interaction, you retreat to your [[safe space.]]
[[Incorrect->Zoom quiz]]
You’re in the bathroom. You come here to relax.
There’s no windows. The outside world is completely pushed away.
In here you are calm.
This calm is disturbed by another sharp buzz to your [[palm->phone]].
You have a missed video call from a family member.
[[Return]].
This is pleasant. It's nice to see them. You miss them. You look longingly over their pixelated faces. Your eyes scramble and strain for some comfort but you can't make out a smile from the blur. Instead, you watch your own image on the screen. Your own, dispirited yet slightly posed, appearance. You feel like you have seen them, but you haven’t really, and you know that. They are just an image. The more you think about it the more the experience actually makes you sad.
Now it’s time for another [[Zoom->quiz]]. Maybe this will fulfil your social desires.
The quiz is in full swing.
The fingerprint of which animal is most similar to that of a human?
a) [[Koala]]
b) [[Chimpanzee]]
CORRECT
In between the awkward silence and people talking over each other, you try to upload your loneliness. But your timing is off and the yellow square highlights someone else’s face. You try to make sense of the disorder.
After your failed attempt to simulate social interaction you revert to [[endless scrolling]] to occupy your restless mind.
[[Incorrect->quiz]]
You ache for physical interaction. Even the sight of a stranger in the street, the thought of their human eyes, nose and mouth enchants you. You long for life [[outside your home->going mad]].
You lunge for your mask.
Pockets loaded with sanitiser.
Latex gloves [[snatched]] to your hands.
<img style="-webkit-user-select: none;margin: auto;cursor: zoom-in;" src="https://ashella.yolasite.com/resources/error1.gif" width="645" height="483">
[[RE DO->Start]]
<<audio birds play>>
Your eyes gaze intensely at the screen and the screen, in return, shines a light that glows over your skin. Interfacing. Your fingers gently glide over the keys, caressing every little black square. You type out the words [[crochet blanket tutorial]].
Your mind wanders as you think about the reopening of the outside world.
You call out to [[Siri->ask siri]] and ask when lockdown will end.
Siri responds and provides you with what they found on the web.
You’re grateful that Siri can aid your wandering mind, allowing your hands to continue their task.
You share your gratitude with Siri.
You say, “Thank you.”
Siri replies, “You are welcome.”
You loop and knot and knot and [[loop]].
The battery symbol on your phone flashes red but [[you ignore]]. The weaving of your hands is like an unstoppable engine. You loop and knot and loop and knot and loop again.
Your phone’s condition begins to deteriorate.
Showing signs of struggle, quivering at every tap.
Your phone becomes unresponsive.
The light goes out.
Your phone has [[flatlined]].
Guilt initialises just beneath your rib cage. You blame yourself.
Water forms and balls up in the [[duct of your eye->Cry]].
It sets free and rolls over your cheek.
You dive for your lead; it fumbles round in your fingers.
You plug it into your [[belly button]].
Siri replies. “what can I help you with?”
Your eyes lead your head around the room in a frenzy.
You pick up your phone’s lifeless frame.
You ask Siri [[“where are you?”]]
Siri tells you to [[wash your hands]].
<video wash%20hands%20final autplay
<video src="videos/washhandsfinal.mp4" width="640" height="480" autoplay></video>
Siri tells you it's time to eat.
<img style="-webkit-user-select: none;margin: auto;" src="https://ashella.yolasite.com/resources/DOWNLOAD.gif">
So [[you eat]].
The barefaced truth of your reality hits with the sound of these shrill squeaks and scurries.
You remember that you’re in the middle of a desolate city centre during a global pandemic. Rendering the once gushing streets of Liverpool vacant. Rendering those same streets to the Rats.
Siri senses that you’re overwhelmed.
Siri tells you to [[go to bed]].
You are in bed.
You slowly pull your crochet blanket over yourself, crochet hooks still attached.
You close your eyes and upturn the [[corners of your mouth]].
You aren’t convincing Siri or yourself with this forced.
<img style="-webkit-user-select: none;margin: auto;cursor: zoom-in;" src="https://ashella.yolasite.com/resources/error1.gif" width="645" height="483">
[[RETURN->Start]]
<<audio lullaby2 play>>
<video wash%20hands%20final autplay
<video src="videos/washhandsfinal.mp4" width="640" height="480" autoplay></video>
Whilst singing happy brithday [[twice->T.V]]Your eating is interrupted by a [[squeak->nature sound]].
You [[find->washy]] yourself watching videos of Steven Gerrard just to hear those soothing scouse tones. You close your eyes and feel like you are back, doing the Bold Street Slalom. But you aren't really, and you know that. The more you think about it the more the experience actually makes you sad.
The poison is now set out ... You sit and wait looking at the target area from the safety of your base.
You catch a glimpse of your [[overgrown self]] in the reflection of the window. You stand there, your eyes cant help but detect how every part of your body is so disheveled. In ways you’d never even considered.
<<cacheaudio "lullaby2" "https://ashella.yolasite.com/resources/lullaby2.mp3">>
<<cacheaudio "birds" "https://ashella.yolasite.com/resources/birds%20.mp3">>
<<cacheaudio "ratsounds" "https://ashella.yolasite.com/resources/rat%20sounds.mp3">>
<<cacheaudio "bojo" "https://ashella.yolasite.com/resources/bojo.mp3">>
The couch has seen more action than ever anticipated and has now morphed into a mold of your rear end. Repetitive strain some might say. You don’t say anything. You’re just grateful to be staring at a different set of four walls.
Turn on the [[T.V]] or open your [[laptop]].<img style="-webkit-user-select: none;margin: auto;cursor: zoom-in;" src="https://ashella.yolasite.com/resources/samsamsamsam.gif" width="645" height="483">
[[ADVANCE]]
Them big fat city rats that are resilient to human shouting and screaming. Maybe in normal circumstances you wouldn’t mind rats. But not global pandemic rats, these rats size up to cats. These rats now have the rule of Bold, duke and Mathew street. Day and night. They run freely as the wind blows through their [[fur]].
The next advance the rats will take is unknown.
But rest assured, your home is now theirs.
From now on you’re on your own.
Whatever happens, protect your wires, cables and [[at all costs]].
<video wash%20hands%20final autplay
<video src="videos/washhandsfinal.mp4" width="640" height="480" autoplay></video>
Whilst singing Happy Birthday [[twice->....]]<video wash%20hands%20final autplay
<video src="videos/washhandsfinal.mp4" width="640" height="480" autoplay></video>
Whilst singing [[Happy Birthday->rub]] twice.
You rub your overworked eyes.
They can't engage with screens much longer.
Unable to [[pair->lock away]].
You run for the door.
You grasp for the handle.
The outside confronts you.
The air so is fresh.
So fresh it lacerates the [[stagnant atmosphere]].
The stagnant atmosphere that has populated your home.
You've grown tired of searching for connection.
Another sharp buzz to your palm produces an intuitive physical retaliation.
Your hand jerks and [[rejects the device]].
You start to crochet. Your hands mechanically moving around the [[crisp white wool]]. You loop and knot then loop and knot again.Your phone has only been dead a short while, you worry as your loneliness begins to creep up. In desperation, you [[cry out]] for Siri.
Siri’s voice replies like a [[thought->always with you]] in your head, “I am here. I’m always with you.”“Siri, sing me a [[lullaby->favorite lullaby]]”
You don’t like this anymore.
You don’t like this anymore.
You don’t like this [[anymore->Interrupted]].
All that is left to do is run [[outside]].