I stood at the stand holding onto my horse; my legs gave out again, and it would be shameful for me to fall in front of this nice lady. "Here you go," she says, handing me a pen. It was a horseshoepin with my face in it. It said "Tyler Tyler" around. Speaking of which, I forgot to introduce myself; my name is Tyler Tyler. I got this after I lost my memories, and I've always forgotten everything often. But not now; I am sure that this sea will give me the answer, give me the answer to my memories. But that might not even happen; it's gotten so bad that sometimes my legs just give up because theyjust forget how to walk.
I am writing this on my mind due to a handy gadget that I can't say without my tongue getting twisted. Every second may be my last, so I need to make every one count. I overhear some people talking about the interview that came out today; they were talking about how they missed important details like the cost and that it would last 6 months, so not many people would be interested. And of course I know this; why else would I remember it all despite my disability? I know why. Because this is my last hope, my last attempt at finding the truth. And I will make the most of it.
After getting the pin, I hop on my horse and put it on my shirt. My shirt is blue and made of good silk that I made personally myself for spiders. Not really hard to find considering that there are a lot where I came from, and this paid off because right now some people are seeing me, and I just got invited to be interviewed. They're doing this for the top 20 players; I'm the 11th. Which isn't the best but isn't the worst because there are people with no interview at all, or maybe they do get an interview, but maybe it's that nobody cares about those.
I look around at my surroundings; the race will start tomorrow, and people are prepping themselves. I mean, who wouldn't want to? It's like the winner of the race will get 50 billion, but even entities have joined, of course the sentient ones who are able to hold some conversation verbally or nonverbally, not those brainless ones. But maybe it's the lure of being able to find the sea? Whatever it is that is important that I need to survive this race.
Around me is the level 0 backrooms. I can see the marks where people are supposed to race. Divided into 4 sections, I'll be the 3rd, the humans one. I will start on a TI-84. People call me crazy for using a horse for this race considering there are people with skating powers and people with cars, but horses bring me balance, so I doubt that. A guy that looks like some type of animal calls me into the interview room. There are fancy golden couches, and I sit down in one. My horse is right by my side. They ask me some questions, so I tell as much as I can about myself. They seem interested. I know that what I need is sponsors to follow me and bring me materials.
I also heard humans and non-humans are betting on racers and even will act friendly or hostile depending on who they bet on. So my goal is to have the most people over; that is how I will win. They tell me that tomorrow, over the 6 months, each second can be my last, and they will use my photo throughout the race. I do a pose, and they take it; then I go to another room and take a family picture with the 20 interviewed contestants. It's a bit cramped considering my horse is there, but we make it work, and we party all night. All I know is that one by the name of Bingo Wingo was extremely egotistical. But I'm getting tired in bed; tomorrow is what will really count.