FUCK YOU ITS EITHER THIS OR NO END 

it was just breaking a couple of wooden blocks with a iron axe how hard could that be?

apparently a iron axe was much heavier than a wooden one, so with each swing tommy took his stamina went down faster and faster until every coupe of swings he was gasping for air sweat drenched him and the midday sun baked him alive at that point tommy was exhausted and tired he wanted noting more than a break from all this work.

but as always if he took a break his mind would certainly wander and he would start wanting to look at the timer if it even changed, so through the midday heat the terrible smell of sweat and his fatigue and exhaustion combined he pulled through god knew how much the kid worked and it seemed that as if it paid of because within a couple of hours his inventory was lined with stacks upon stacks of wood.

the sun was still high but the forest only got darker the further he went into it, yet the young boy didn't notice it maybe it was because of the heat melting his thought prosses or maybe it was that he was simply too exhausted to notice the change  anyhow that small difference made a whole lot change for the worse.

Tommy started to settle into a retheme of chopping down trees killing any animals he came across by and going over to the next tree, the heat had lessened a bit so it was easier for him to work but the haziness you feel on hot summer days when outside didn't settle  and as before Tommy's mind was in a haze doing things by auto not on full alert.

oh how wrong that was because as tommy moved to the next tree a pair of eyes where looking at him from the shadows the eyes just staired waiting for tommy to fuck up, Tommy meanwhile didn't notice them and continued log by log removing the small forest next to his wooden box but as he got to the last log of that tree his heat fogged mind fucked him up and right before the log broke his axe slipped from his sweaty hands and fell onto the floor.

that was what the pair of eyes waited for, the trees where somewhat close and the leaves provided the perfect amount of shade for lets say a mob of corse tommy docent notice it because of his fogged off mind focusing on picking up his iron axe, little did he know that a green monster was slowly inching closer to him.

tick tick tick it made the sounds but Tommy's head was still spinning a bit from the heat and work he was doing ,his ears ringing just loud enough to conceal the walking sounds and all it took was one moment.

just a moment.

tisk a light fuse like sound rang through the forest.

and it was all that tommy needed for him to realize he is fucked.

he would need to pull out his shield within a second but his shield  was in his inventory unequipped he would need at least two seconds the second option was right, a the last log he didn't cut down was a bottom log he could dive for it and hide behind that it would fully protect him if he did it right.

so that's what he did he dove to the log on the ground, the creeper behind him exploded.

pain erupted in his legs.

he didn't fully make it.

he hit his head.//

..

My memories fade.

fade and fade the only memories i have of my family are gone the only reason why i remember them is just because of the poorly drawn sketches and names scratched inro the first pages of this book.

the letters where depreat pages soaked in blood and tears the pages where written depretly they where sign of a boy too desperate to hold onto the memories of his family, they boy now much older looking over those tear soaked pages those words so desperately written of names of memories of descriptions he just couldnt remember the desparation the relization of the situation that his mind seemed to be broken,  yet those eyes who looked over the pages where empty dull, instead of a shining blue a dull grey, as the eyes wander through the words through the sketches of faces he just couldn't seem to recognize them.

words over the faces where written clearly underlined multiple times, the underlined words ussaly where Family or friends.

yet he just couldnt remember them no matter how hard he tried.

the oak wood he was leaning against started to feel cold against him and so he started his day.

standing up from his red bed he layed the brown book on it and started heading out of his bedroom.

beafore exiting his bedroom he took a look inside, sure he couldnt remember how he got into this world or any other faces exept for his own he still retained his memories of this world, how he started out with nothing more than a will to live and how he started to learn about the world around him, he remember the cold sea and his wooden oak box, he remember the struggle of being claustrophobic and going into the cave.

he remembes the pain of the creeper explosion he remembers his blury vision his bleeding legs and the unimagenable pain in his head of when he hit it on the log, he remembers the oak block red with his blood, he remember draging himself to the salty sea despreatly trying to wash off the mocking shade of red.

he remembers how the salt stung his skin so badly that he cried out in pain, he remembers then after the blury sickness he experienced days where spent in that oak box with a furnace and the baby cow cuddled next to him.

after the sickness passed, his system was weak all he could do was kill the animals that wondered yet he didnt get far.

desperation leads to horrible thing and hunger drives a man mad.

the Henry incident even if he was guilty to no return he realized that if he wants to survive he will need to do it alone, and eventually, he decided to leave.

he left that bloodied oak log to leave the blood stains on the wall to leave the furnace and the crafting table .

and he remembered that as he left he for the first time looked down at his arm he saw the clock, he spent two weeks there.

/

now as he looks down instead of the seven digits that he was once so used to see now there was only three.

367 minuets 

6 hours left.

after almost 5 years and twelve months of pure progress he was finally going home.

but.

doubts started appearing, home what was it people he doesn't remember places he cant recognize items that feel familiar yet long gone.

a long time ago he started feeling a familiarity in the once unknown world he started feeling exited going into the caves he once feared to no end he felt empowered going into the pits of hell covered in armor that was unbreakable going out of it with fist full of items that he later on used to place and make delicate items with.

he felt happy in this place in this carefully crafted house in the middle of a forest he felt joy in spending his time fishing in the calm breeze of the sea he felt joy in knowing that nothing could hurt him.

but, then came the others memories, just his hands showed the horror of it, after all being only able to count to nine on his fingers was always unideal, or how his skin will never be soft the burnt skin was a mocking reminder of it his face will never be full one of his eyebrows partially missing from his head hitting that log, and you couldn't even count how many arrows shot him, the hole in his shoulder was just a mocking reminder that he got his pride before logic.

and so he  decided that even if this was his home, it was not safe.

3hours left.

he went downstairs grabbing the bread and cooked meat from the encounter, walking down the gravel path he ended up on a dock  a sunrise in the distance the water glimmering from the sun, walking to the very end of the dock he took one of the pre sitting fishing rods and sat down, legs hanging over the ledge above the water, his dull eyes filled with joy and a smile apeared on his face as he lets a breath out.

he casts a line into the water, and in the silence of the world around him he sits there eating on his bread and waiting, waiting for the number to hit zero.