Ink Washes Standing (2021)
Recounting each trouble in my life is getting harder and harder to accomplish without breaking down in some way.
BY HANNAH CLARKE
IMAGE BY PATSY WISNIEWSKI
I finally make it back from another day of work today, slipping off my hat and gloves and dropping my things off at the door.
It’s already December 2033, close to the new year. I am getting warmer after entering my heated home from the blistering cold air outside. At least I don’t have to worry about any black ice outside.
The greatest form of escapism from reality for as long as I can remember, as a lot of people have rejoiced to the heavens, is VR. It has become the norm in technological advancement and entertainment overall.
Many even try to speculate if our reality is also VR.
Like most people, I escape to the world of virtual reality quite often. So much so that it feels like a watercolour painting. Everything’s blended together by an amateur artist, the colours all muddled and gross-looking.
A lot of things have happened before we could even reach this point, though; there’s the COVID-19 pandemic that began in mid-to-late 2019, police brutality and overall racism against minority groups, big-name celebrities and sports stars passing away…
Work is stressful and long. Working at home online most of the week and only going into the office once or twice per week at most, socially and physically distancing myself from family and friends is depressing and lonely, responsibilities and assignments keep piling onto my shoulders…
My mental health and wellbeing have also been so low, it’s at the point that I’m ashamed to even speak with a therapist or helpline online about it without feeling like I’m burdening their lives as well…
Just do VR, I always tell myself after another depressive episode, Just do VR. It’ll help you. Even for just a bit.
It’s the weekend before New Year’s anyway, so this should be fine.
I head for my console and collection of games, trying to decide which one to lose myself in.
First-person shooter? No, there’s already too much violence going on right now.
Co-op simulator? Nay, I don’t want to bother any of my friends having their own problems…
Horror game? Again, too much violence for my liking right now…
Mystery game? I don’t think I even have the mental capacity to solve anything…
How about…
Wait…
What’s this?
A VR game case with a simple blank white cover with no text except for ‘Try Me’.
Hmm… I think to myself. It’s not like I have much else to lose right now. Let’s give it a go...
I turn the console on, place the mystery disc in, and put the VR goggles over my face.
There isn’t even a menu after the loading screen comes on to boot the game. Strange.
“What is—” I try to ask, but then the beautiful ambience of the seaside and crashing waves floods my ears like a slow-motion tidal wave.
I turn towards the sea, seeing a beautiful sunset painted in pinks, purples, and light golds.
I can even feel the sand between my toes, and the sea breeze blowing gently through my hair.
“Whoa,” I whisper to myself, “What is this?”
“Welcome,” a sudden voice breaks my focus among the calm atmosphere. “I’m glad you could make it.”
I look up to see a white silhouette, unable to make out who it is supposed to be.
“Come with me,” the white silhouette says.
“W-Where?! Who even are you!?”
“You may refer to me as Mentor,” the white silhouette says gently. “And I’ll call you Main Character, or Chara for short, if that’s okay.”
Chara? I think to myself in confusion. Wasn’t a character named that, in that infamous indie game back in 2014? With the skeletons and other monsters and stuff? What even was the creator’s name for that game again? I only remember their last name being… Fox...
Mentor then slowly begins to walk away when I look back at them again. I quickly run to catch up.
“So, where are we going again?” I ask as we eventually stop along the shoreline and look towards the sunset, somehow more vibrant and majestic than the first time I saw it.
Silence, except for the seaside ambience.
“Chara,” Mentor finally speaks, “what seems to be bothering you?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Mentor chuckles, “Don’t be afraid. You can tell me what’s troubling your mind and spirit...”
I sigh. There’s just something about Mentor that makes me want to tell them about everything and anything.
So, I do. But hesitantly.
Recounting each trouble in my life is getting harder and harder to accomplish without breaking down in some way. I can’t even put them all into proper words, and I doubt showing or writing about them would have any other affect on the conversation.
“Chara?” Mentor asks, “Are you alright? Please, take your time. We have a lot of it here anyway.”
Was that supposed to make me feel any better?
Still, it was better than nothing at all…right?
“Hmm...” Mentor says after all of my ranting about how much my life and the world overall sucks and how it should’ve been getting better by now. “I see…”
“Wait… How can you be so calm about that, though?” I ask in confusion. “Doesn’t any of that even faze you?”
Mentor hums again in deep thought. “How do you know I’m calm, though? For all we know, I could be just as disturbed and sad at all of your current troubles.”
There is another moment of silence that I am too afraid to break.
“Let me give you some advice then,” Mentor says, still staring at the sunset.
Another brief pause for ambience, a bit duller than earlier. Maybe that was my doing somehow?
“What you may be talking about, is something I’d like to call Main Character Syndrome,” they begin, “You know, kinda like right now in this virtual reality.”
“Huh?” I wonder aloud, but Mentor just keeps on going.
“As the main character—for a game, anime, movie, whatever you’re into—you’re placed in a position of power. What you say and do affects the characters around you, both allies and enemies. You might also feel like their problems are forced onto your shoulders and you’re forced to grin and bear it, keep your head high, ignore your own needs and troubles as well. But remember, being the main character doesn’t mean you’re the only character. All the other characters around you are there for you too, as much as you are there for them. Allies or enemies, family or acquaintances, they’re all there to help you become the kind of person you choose to be and are there to guide you on that journey.”
Mentor finally looks back at me again. “Did that help?”
I try to formulate words, but can’t.
Mentor laughs a bit. “Still, that’s just the way I see it. How you want to take it is up to you.”
We look back at the horizon again, the sun now finally set in the sky, painted in deep blues and violets and blacks.
“I should be going now,” Mentor says and slowly walks away.
“Wait! I still have more to say!” I call out.
They just laugh again, looking back at me from afar. “No worries, Chara. We’ll meet again.”
Then they, along with everything else, slowly start to vanish into a white void.
Back in the real world, the game is out of the shutdown console, the headset is off my eyes, hands free from any controllers.
I am back in my own room, and I slowly start to smile to myself.
“Good game, Chara,” I say. “Good game.”
Hannah Clarke is a Humber journalism student with a huge passion for writing and creating her own fictional worlds. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, listening to music, and chilling at home with her cats.
Image: Patsy Wisniewski, Ink Washes Standing, India ink on watercolour paper, 2021.
Edited for publication by Elizabeth Bate, as part of the Creative Book Publishing Program.
HLR Spotlight is a collaboration between the Faculty of Media & Creative Arts and the Faculty of Liberal Arts & Sciences and Innovative Learning at Humber College in Toronto, Ontario. This project is funded by Humber’s Office of Research & Innovation.