2 - Welcome to Torn | Tornstories

I put my hand to my head, I could feel my head and head throbbing together in mutual pain and understanding. All I remembered was being abused and thrown by a large ugly bus driver who apparently took his job very seriously. The last I remembered was a sign that said, “Welcome to Torn.” It wasn’t my original destination, but I doubted anyone who knew me was here either. Now all I had to do was recover and survive. I let out an involuntary moan as the pain in my head overran my thoughts and became too great to bear silently.

“Are you awake? You ain’t dead making noises like that at least,” a voice in the distance spoke out.

With much effort, I forced one eye open in an attempt to look around. Upon first inspection, it appeared that I was in a small dark room, creases of light showing through the corners. A second look cleared the view a little more. I was laying on the ground under a giant cardboard box and covered with various pieces of old clothing. “What the hell?” I thought to myself as I stretched an arm out to touch the cardboard wall. The box shifted to the left as I accidentally punched the box in my clumsy effort to feel my surroundings.

“Hey, hey! Careful with the bedroom, man. I still have two payments left on that room and you don’t look like you have too much to offer,” the same voice said, sounding as if he was approaching.

Startled by the man’s approach and voice I fell silent and still once again listening for movement outside of my box of solitude. After a few more seconds of silence, I weekly spoke out, “Who are you?”

My world instantly changed once again as the box was flung off of me and the world turned bright and sunny. I reflexively put my hands up to block the blinding light from painfully piercing my retinas. “You are awake!” The man exclaimed. “I knew you had it in you. My name’s George. It looked like you had a bad night, so I put you in my spare bedroom. Come on, I’ve got breakfast for the both of us.”

I slowly got up on my side, pushing all of the makeshift blankets off of me. My dreary face showed surprise when I realized I was completely naked. “That’s right!” I thought to myself, “The bus driver stripped me naked. I have absolutely nothing now.” The realization overwhelmed me with sadness and pity for myself. What have I gotten myself into? How will I survive?

George looked back after realizing I didn’t follow him to the portion of the ground he referred to as his dining table. After staring at my nude form for a few seconds, he pointed at the pile of clothes beside me, “No need to stay naked. I’m not looking to get frisky today. Just find some clothes that fit out of that pile, you can pay me back later.”

After the awkward exchange, I decided to quickly do as he says. I rifled through the pile and picked out a tank top, blue jacket, and leather pants. I didn’t look very fashionable, but it was one step above nudity and the glaring eyes of George. After throwing the clothes on, I walked over to sit across from George where he had set up a spot for me consisting of a stained paper towel, what appeared to be a breakfast burrito, and a ketchup packet. I was extremely hungry, so it looked great to me at the time. I sat down Indian style and started to open the ketchup packet.

George looked at me, egg on his face and pointing the burrito at me as if to make a point, “Eat up, then we’ll get started on your Torn citizenship.”

“Torn citizenship?” I thought but kept it to myself. I didn’t want to offend the guy that has appeared to save me from impending doom, at least so far. I devoured the cold burrito and ketchup as if it was the best meal I’d ever had, trying not to pay attention to the fact that it let off a stench eerily similar to the clothes I was wearing.

After a few minutes of silent chewing, George reached into a pack beside him and pulled out a plastic card. “What’s your Torn name?” He asked, as if that question would have been normal conversation to anyone in passing.

“My first name, you mean?” I stammered, confused look on my face. “My name is..”

George cut me off with a wave of his arm. “No one cares about your real name here! Torn is a city where one can start over, be a new person. I’ll tell you what, I’m gonna help you out. Let’s see, I found you in a gutter, naked and covered in shit. Not my worst date by far mind you. I think I’ll call you, Crapitycrap. Yeah. That name is just offensive enough to turn heads but still eludes a sense of style.” He poked a few times with a pen on the card he was holding.

I chuckled nervously, shaking my head, “That’s a good one, George. No really, my name is…”

George cut me off again with a wave of his arm. He left me in silence for a while longer while poking at both the front and back sides of the card. Finally, he looked up to me with a serious look on his face, “You don’t understand what you’ve landed on here, son. This is Torn. Everyone starts new here. New name, new life. You’re lucky I’m here to get you started proper instead of letting you die in the street like most people who get stuck here.” He shakes his head, looking back down at the card for a second. He then reaches his hand out with the card to me, “This card represents your Torn life. Everyone has one and it must be worn at all times. Without this card, you will be kicked out of Torn or worse even they may turn you into a punchbag NPC!”

I took the card from his hand, thoroughly confused at this point. What the hell was a punchbag NPC? I didn’t want to find out. I looked down at the front of the card. It appeared to be entirely digital! Where did George get something like this? He lives in a wooden box and eats off of the ground. Very weird. The card had a lot of information on it. Name: Crapitycrap, Level: 1, Rank: Absolute Beginner, Age: 1, Job: None, Faction: None, Friends: 0, Enemies: 0. I turned the card over and found lots more information I didn’t understand on the backside. Battle Stats, Work Stats, Money: $0, Energy: 100/100, Nerve: 15/15, Happy: 60/60.

While still staring at the card, George leaned forward with a meaningful look in his eyes, “Like I said, this card represents your Torn life. As you grow, the card will grow with you. See the green leaf in the corner there? That’s your badge of safety. People won’t mess with you while you have that green leaf there. Keep the card on you at all times. We all have one. Oh yeah, don’t show people the back of the card unless you really trust them.”

My face grew more and more skeptical while George was going through the details of this digital card. How was a green leaf going to protect me? What the hell were battle stats for? I started to feel like I was being set up for some type of scam. I held up a hand and decided to interrupt his long speech, “Hey, listen. I appreciate you helping me out and giving me these clothes, but this all sounds like some type of gimmick. Maybe I should just go for now. I’ll come back and reimburse you for the clothes and food later.”

George stared at me in silence for a full five seconds, then busted out in laughter. It took him a minute or so to calm back down. In the meantime, not knowing what else to do I started to get up and dust off my new clothes intending to find the nearest highway and out of this crazy town. George put up a hand in a silent plead to give him a minute to explain. I stood there, hands on hips, only one more dumb word from walking off.

“You hit the lottery, son! Don’t you understand? Here you can start a new life; you can make billions of dollars. You can be whatever you want! All you gotta do is believe.” George said, becoming louder with each sentence.

I shook my head in disbelief. What proof did he have that any of this was more than just a crazy man’s story? I wanted to believe, but this sounded too good to be true. “Do you have any proof that you’re not just a crazy old man sweeping me up in a fancy story?” I asked, a little more bluntly than I would have liked.

George tilted his head a bit to the side, “Everyone has a card, just like the one I gave you.” He rustled through his pocket and held a similar card out for me to read. It read: Name: George, Level: 5, Rank: Rookie, Age: XXXX, Job: None, Faction: None, Friends: unknown, Enemies: unknown. “Here’s mine. Don’t mind the age, I’ve been here so long the card stop counting,” He said wheezing out a laugh.

“You said that you can be anything you want here in Torn, make tons of money and be a big shot. If you’ve been here so long, why are you near homeless and living on the edge of town?” I asked, not really thinking the question through before blurting it out. If this was a fantasy land, then why would people choose to be poor or weak?

George smiled slightly and nodded his head, “Well, everyone’s got their role. Mine? Mine is to help new people like you to not get killed in your first day of living in Torn.” George sighed heavily, then continued, “Would old George like a giant home to live in? Sure, he would. That’s not for me though. I belong out here on the front lines giving you new guys a good head start to your life in Torn. Listen, it’s not all flowers and plushies here. People are mean, rude. Make sure to find allies or you’ll get beat down constantly. The green leaf is your key to protection in the near term.”

“Well,” I thought to myself, “What do I have to lose. At best I’ll be rich and powerful in a magical new city. At worst, I’ll finally be put out of my misery.” I took a deep breath to collect myself and looked at George. He was busy fiddling with his card to get it back into a pocket in his jacket. I waited until he was done with his personal struggle before continuing, “Ok George. I’m game, what now?”

George clapped his hands loudly as his expression changed from his lazy smile to excitement, “I knew you were a good one! You’re going to be big here, Crapitycrap. You just wait. Just remember to come visit me everyone once in a while when you’re rich and famous.”

I scoffed at George’s comments. They were so ridiculous I didn’t even know how to respond. I forgot about the stupid name he gave me, Crapitycrap. Surely, he can switch it to something better. “You called me Crapitycrap, could you just give me a normal name, like Bill or Francis?” I asked expectantly.

“Nope. You’re going to have to own that name,” he said without even a hint of a smile. He took a step closer to me, “Look, everybody’s got unique names. That’s just the way it is. Use it to your advantage, you’ll need all the advantage you can get!”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, worry in my voice.

George waived a hand and started walking vaguely towards the city, “Don’t worry about that now. You’ve got a new life to start!”

I shook my head and followed George along a flattened dirt path. For the first time since the beginning of my adventure, I took a deep breath and just looked around me. The air was cool and clean feeling as it entered my lungs. The sky was a beautiful medium blue without a cloud in sight. The grass and trees around me looked as if they were curated to perfection, but that couldn’t be right. We were a ways from the city, they must just grow naturally this way.

Ten minutes of following George along a path through a pristine grove of trees and grass had raised my suspicions once again. George hadn’t spoken anymore. He just hums a happy tune to himself, never seeming to speed up or slowdown from his constant pace at all. Afraid that I was in for the ‘put me out of my misery’ route, I decided to speak up, “Where exactly are we going?”

“To your new home, of course! Everyone in torn gets free housing. It won’t be the comfiest place to stay, but it’ll keep you out of the rain and cold. Hell, it’s much better than what I live in.”

My eyebrows raised in appreciation and I nodded once. “That’s great,” I thought, “At least I’ll have some apartment loft to start with. Then I’ll find a job.” I happily followed George, humming my own turn in an attempt to match his.

George and I crested over a small hill just a few minutes later. I had a pep in my step. Things were finally going my way. I got the hell kicked out of me by a bus driver and landed in a paradise where they give you free housing. My happy thoughts were interrupted by George, who turned to face me with an excited look on his face.

George swept one hand in a presentation style down the hill, “Here it is! Your new house for now. It ain’t much, but it’s a good start.”

I followed his outstretched hand in anticipation of my new home. At the bottom of the hill were a line of small wooden sheds, all spaced about six feet apart. There had to be hundreds of them down there! I looked further out across the field but didn’t see any houses or apartments. Confused, I looked at George, “Are the houses past these sheds? How much further do we need to go?”

George let out a hearty laugh and clapped me on my shoulder, “One of these is yours, man! No need to walk further. Let me see here,” George said while rummaging through his pocket, “Yep. You’re number six down there.” He pointed towards the middle of the first row of houses.

I looked down, following the row until I found number six. My new house was a grayish brown with holes in the front. The roof didn’t look sturdy enough for a bird to land on. My happy face turned to horror as I kept looking at more of the detail of the house.

George started skipping down the side of the hill, motioning me to follow him, “Don’t stand up there and gawk all day, let’s get you settled in.”

I followed slowly down the hill, noticing that the scenery around me seemed to turn a slightly greyer shade that it had been while on the trail. Looking past the rows of shed like houses the city looked pretty close now, maybe another 15-20 minute walk in a straight line. It was an impressive sight during the day. Giant buildings touching the sky, a large decorative bridge in the distance. “That’s where I will find work,” I thought to myself while descending into the shed filled neighborhood. I abruptly lost my balance as one of my legs sunk knee deep into a mud hole that I didn’t see while walking. Picking myself back up I noticed that the right side of my only pair of pants was covered in mud.

George walked through the entry with ease, the door swinging open as if it was made out of cardboard. “Here you are!” George exclaimed as I walked through the entrance. I looked around with a defeated look on my face. George put a hand on my shoulder, “I know this place ain’t all that. Just give it some time. You will get a better place. If not, this one will always be here for you. Keep your head up, Crapitycrap! You’ve got a lot of excitement ahead of you!”

George turned and headed for the front door, “Good luck, maybe we’ll see each other again!”

“Wait! What the hell am I supposed to do now? What was all of that talk of greatness?” I asked angrily feeling extremely misguided.

George chuckled and turn back to me, “I’m just making sure you’re paying attention.” He pulled a worn, stained piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it gently, “I made you a map. Get some reset today. Tomorrow go here to find a job,” He said while poking his finger at the map, “Go here to start a class or two at the local university. Oh, and go here if you want to find some cool stuff other people may have thrown out.”

“Ok,” I said slowly. This was a lot to take in. I now had my own shack, a new identity albeit a stupid one, and a future in a new city. I felt overwhelmingly tired at this point. The day really flew by with all of the walking and talks of a fantasy world that I now apparently lived in. “Thank you for all the help, George.” I said tiredly.

“Ah!” He waived his arm, “It’s all part of the job. You get some rest; you’ll see me again soon don’t you worry.” With that, he took his leave out of the front door, leaving it swing on its hinges.

I took another look around. I now lived in a one room shack with a bed in one corner and a pot to piss in at the other corner. Was this better than sleeping outside? I wasn’t sure but decided to give it a try for the night.