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[bahihs]

As I sit here in the dark, listening to obsucre video-game music, and my sanity slips away with the winter draft (I really need to insulate my windows) an idea for a weird forum game comes to me.

You are a zygote stuck in birth. You are a song on repeat. You are the thred, the cloth AND the needle. And you are destined to be enlightened.

The rules are these:
1. You are a "thing", not one single character or personality or distinct person, but a smear, a spectrum.
2. You exist as a discrete thing so long as you are alive.
3. If you "die" you are "reborn"
4. Rebirth does not care for time or space; cause or effect.
5. The game ends when no more suggestions are given

You came into the world as the pesants son of a pesants son. At the age of three, you were bitten by a snake while playing in amid the fields, lukily your mother heard your crying and....

What did she do again?

[StrawBarrel]

She skillfully bandaged the bite wound.

[Generally me]

She told us to stop crying and strangle the snake or she wouldn't heal us

[bahihs]

Instead of comfort, your mother offers you the back of her hand in a firm slap. Her hand is calloused and hard from working long hours in the fields. She then puts the snake in your hand, turns your head and gazes deep into your eyes; "Life to life" she says "Life to life".

You squeeze your hand with all the rage and infantile strength you possess. The snake coils around your arm in response, but soon falls limp. You collapse to the ground as your anger, grief and fear consume you. When you awake, there is a piece of cloth tied around the bite wound, and a wet washcloth upon your forehead. Your mother is no where to be seen. You try to get up, but the pain is too intense, you start to cry again. This goes on for a few hours, until you tire yourself and fall into a quiet sleep.

You have strange dreams. Your bitten hand becomes a snake and you cannot control it, it faces you, the forked tongue flicks out. "Claws and fangs" it says, over and over. Then it lunges to your neck and bites! You awake in a cold sweat. You mother is sitting over you and caressing your cheek and singing softly of far away things. You try to get up again and with horror realize you cannot move your bitten arm. You begin to cry again. Your father wakes up and...

What does he do again?

[StrawBarrel]

He wakes up the family dog, Snicker, and begins madly scouring outside for snakes with her.