Reality Lottery - Part Three

"Alright, let's bite this bullet. The three new worlds you can choose from are a world where aging is strangely determined, keeping you young for a very long time; you got a lucrative career right out of High School, allowing you to live life how you want; and a world where classic fantasy races exist, Elves, Dwarves, you get the idea" the older man explains, ending the last one with a shrug.

I lean back in my seat a little, staring in confusion at the man across from me as he simply looks at me expectantly.

"Well...which one would you like?" he asks, a little unsure of how he is meant to handle this sort of process.

"Um...can I get some more information about those...uh..." I stammer, unsure what to call the descriptions given to me.

"Oh...right...of course" says Patrick, tapping his forehead slightly "Of course you would like to know more." The man begins to type away at the computer, his tongue sticking out a little in concentration as he rapidly works on something beyond my sight line.

Suddenly he too leans back, sighing a little before turning to me. "Alright, which would you like to hear about first?"

I sit in silence for a while, hemming and hawing as I try to think of which to ask about first. The fantasy world sounded rather straightforward, though it could have some hidden twists. The last one sounded like a normal life for all intents and purposes, though I would still need to ask a question or two.

"Can I hear more about the...aging one?" I ask, fiddling with my thumbs awkwardly.

"Sure...just...let me..." Patrick states, pausing between words as he concentrates on the screen. "Wat...would you like...to know?"

"I...well I guess how the age thing even works" I reply, shrugging a little as I struggle to think of what to ask.

"Well...you picked a tough one there" Patrick says with a sigh, scrolling through whatever he had on the screen as his eyes dart back and forth across the text. "It looks like...they don't know either" he states in a slightly disappointed tone, his own shoulders slumping. "They've literally described it as 'magic' but there is no evidence of magic existing in that world. I suppose it's just arbitrary."

"So I could age faster there?" I ask, my blood running cold at the thought of shortening my own life thanks to the magic of some new reality.

"No no, baseline appears to be the same as humans here. People age normally until they're eighteen and then it becomes sort of variable" Patrick says reassuringly, shaking his head. "In fact, it appears largely identical in terms of the world. It just looks like some people look younger and live longer"

"Do you...have any information about me?" I ask, shuffling a little in my seat.

"Not...much...Oh I have some information from your driver's license" he chirps, brightening up as he finds some useful information. "It says...oh there are two numbers here" he mutters, quickly reading the screen more carefully. "Appearance Age, Nineteen...Date of Birth..Thirteenth of May...Nineteen Eighty-Six" he mutters, his eyes going wide as the words leave his lips.

My face grows pale as he states the other me's date of birth. "I'm Thirty-Six over there?" I say in shock, leaning in as I try to get a look at the screen. However, as I move Patrick quickly tilts the screen away from me.

"Sorry, can't let you look at company records" he clarifies, waving me back a little with his free hand. "But...yes it looks like you're aging...very slowly"

"So I would...you know..." I mutter, trying to phrase the question through the sudden shock I had been hit with.

"Yeah...you would get that long life" Patrick says softly in response, apparently lost in the same sort of shock I was dealing with. "Would you...uh...did you have any other questions about this world or would you like to move on?"

Still reeling from the shock I slowly shake myself back to reality, at least the reality I called home for now. "Um...yeah, can we talk about the fantasy world?"

Patrick, still mentally working through the thoughts of the first alternative world, slowly begins to bring up what information he had about the fantasy race world. His eyes glaze over a little before he too shakes himself free from the lingering thoughts and clears his throat.

"Alright...So in the second choice it appears that many classic fantasy races exist" Patrick states, trying to return to a more professional tone.

"So...like Dungeons and Dragons?" I ask, trying to get a frame of reference.

"I'm...I'm not sure what that is...but like Lord of the Rings I guess" Patrick replies, struggling to explain what was outside of his frame of reference. "Elves, dwarves, orcs, halflings...there's a bit of a list."

"Is there any magic or anything in this world?" I ask, blushing a little out of embarrassment as I ask the next question "Does magic exist anywhere?"

"Some worlds...I believe have magic, but I don't know about this one doesn't" he responds, pausing in thought as he thinks back to other worlds he has read about. "This looks like our world as well, just with the elves and stuff"

"Is there any...information about me? I mean the other...you get it" I ask, still struggling to talk about another self in some other world.

"Yeah...let's see...You just enrolled in college, Bachelor of Arts, and your date of birth is...that can't be right" Patrick says, muttering the last bit under his breath.

"What is it?" I ask, moving to lean in but pausing as I remember how he had reacted before.

"Well..." Patrick says, trailing off as he scrolls up and down on the computer before finally giving up. "It says your date of birth was...The Thirteenth of May...Nineteen Forty-Nine"

"I'm Seventy-Two?!" I shout, recoiling in horror.

"Yeah...and just starting college...you graduated some sort of school last year...I think there's something more here that we just don't have the information for" Patrick says in a defeated tone, slumping a little in his seat.

"Am I...an elf?" I whisper to myself, trying to get some sort of understanding of the situation. It made sense, the advanced age yet still doing things that seemed like a young person would do. Either that or being some other form of long-lived fantasy...thing.

"Sorry? What did you ask?" Patrick asks in kind, not catching my quiet muttering.

"Oh...uh...never mind" I reply, deciding not to bother him further looking for information he didn't have. "Can I hear about the last one."

"Sure...let me just" Patrick mutters, more at ease this time as he rapidly clicks away at the mouse. Shifting a little in his seat Patrick leans in, reading the screen more deeply as he leans against the desk.

"Alright...so there is a big change here" he says, swallowing hard. "It looks like...well I don't know how to really say this...The racial distribution is...a little different in this world, with people who we'd call Japanese apparently being swapped with Caucasian individuals" Patrick stammers, trying to sum up the lengthy history lesson on his screen.

"Wait so...English people..." I begin to ask, trailing off as Patrick talks over me.

"Would look Japanese by our understanding" Patrick responds

"And America? Australia? France? New..." I begin to riff, listing countries before I'm cut off again.

"Those too, it looks like things are just...flipped" Patrick says, shrugging a little with his face still displaying his own shock.

"And myself? I'm..." I ask, Patrick quickly cutting me off again.

"You'd be Japanese too" he explains, trying to drill the situation into my dense skull. "And before you ask...just let me...there we are. You were born on the Thirteenth of May Nineteen Ninety-Four, the same date we have on our system."

Sighing a little a lean back in the chair, looking up at the egg-shell white ceiling. "So...I have a well-paying job there right" I say, remembering the initial bit of information.

"Yes...I don't have any information on it...but...you just bought a house last month...your third house I mean" Patrick explains, trying to create some sort of understanding about the wealth of this alternate me.

"Three...fuck, that's...I need a moment" I mutter, getting lost in thought as I continue my staring match with the roof.

"Please, take your time" Patrick calmly states, giving me a warm customer service smile. "Though...You don't want to keep your other self wait too long do you? Those three other people must be wondering if they're going to be picked to become...well you."

I try to work out where I was going to go. Patrick was right, it was cruel to leave these other versions of myself in the lurch while I selfishly tried to work things out. However, this was my only chance at this sort of thing and I can't help but shake the worry that I won't make the right choice.

Sighing to myself I have a little bit of a stretch, my body still waking up from the rude awakening I had gotten this morning and from the rushed cup of coffee.

Patrick drums at the table, breaking the silence with a little cough as I bring my gaze down to face him.

"So sir, what will it be?"

Reality Lottery - Part Two

"This is the Reality Lottery, we're calling you today to inform you at you won this week's draw" the chirps the cheery voice on the other end of the line, the joy in their voice sounding fairly fake as they follow their script.

I'm barely able to process what I was being told, a mixture of early morning brain fog and sheer disbelief causing the information to mostly slip by me. The chances of winning were minuscule, most people never expected to win. In fact, most people merely used the Reality Lottery as a tool through which they could fantasize about their perfect alternate lives.

"Um...I'm sorry...what?" I croak, slowly sitting up in my bed and swinging my legs over the side.

"You've won sir, please come by our offices at your earliest convenience so that you can claim your prize" the sweet voice replies.

"You mean that I'm..." I mumble, struggling to think as I slowly begin to stand and shuffle towards my kitchen in search of my morning coffee.

"Heading to a new reality? That's quite right" the voice chuckles. "We'll have picked three new homes for you to choose from by the time you get here, all you'll have to do is...well...pick your favorite"

"I...sure...I mean..." I mutter, still barely awake as I reach my kitchen and begin to sloppily make my much-needed coffee.

"Don't worry sir, we'll send all this information to you in an email" the voice chimes in, recognizing my confusion. "Just...please do come by soon, we don't want to keep the other...yous...waiting too long."

With that the conversation quickly wrapped up, the voice on the other line once again congratulating me as I mumble along and sip at my hot mug of coffee. This couldn't be happening, the chances were so impossibly low, and yet as the email from the Reality Lottery comes through it all hits home.

"A...better me?" I whisper, my eyes darting around my small but cozy apartment.

I hadn't thought about it before, at least not that much. I had always imagined it as being a new life where I had won the actual lottery or where I had rich parents, but as I think about I realize it could be all so much more.

While I had seen and read about people winning the lottery and coming to my reality I had actually heard of what others were like. As I slowly begin to get dressed, the caffeine hitting my system, I can't help but worry about what sort of new world I might be heading to. However, as I sit and think about it I find myself going back over and over again to the most obvious better lives I could imagine. Wealth, stability, true love, all sorts of mundane things that I found myself craving as I pull on my unwashed jeans and a slightly stained by otherwise clean curry yellow button-up shirt.

Heading out of my bedroom and through the apartment towards the front door I find myself looking around at my home for what was likely the last time, a sense of melancholy creeping in past all the joy and anxiety born from my win.

Grabbing a stale muffin from the kitchen counter I head out, locking up behind me and heading down the stairs as I bring up the email from the Reality Lottery on my phone. I knew the local branch office was only a short walk from my home, situated directly between my apartment building and my work, but I simply had to double-check thanks to my scatterbrained state.

Reaching the ground floor I end up throwing out the muffin after only a bite or two, the stale off-putting taste beating out my hunger. Rushing out the large double doors I'm forced to shield my eyes from the crimson sunrise, the harsh light reflecting off the windows of nearby office buildings and washing the street in a red hue.

The walk to the office is fairly short, the crisp morning air causing me to huddle up in an attempt to stay warm. I'm so lost in thought and distracted by the cold that I almost miss the small storefront as I walk by, the non-descript shop doing little to grab people's attention.

The Reality Lottery office was more a shop than anything else. The whole place only took up a small subdivision of a large building, sandwiched between a small fashion boutique and a positively tiny cafe. A wide window leads into the shop floor comprising a small desk with two cash registers for selling tickets, and a door leading to some unseen back room.

Stepping in through the front door I let out a sigh of relief, feeling the warm air from the heated interior wash over me. Walking up to the register I notice a short man in his early thirties smile at me from the other side.

"Welcome to the Reality Lottery sir, how can I help you today?" the man chirps, adjusting his light blue shirt as he interacts with the first customer of the day. His dark brown hair is held back messily with a liberal application of mousse, dark bags under his eyes, and a waning smile giving away either exhaustion or a slight hangover.

"Hey...um...so I won...um...Here..." I mutter nervously, unsure of how to approach the topic. I hold out my phone for the man, bringing up the email as I try to let it do the explanation for me.

The man looks at me in confusion before leaning in to read the phone. Suddenly, his jaw drops and his eyes go wide. "Oh...um...congrats...just...give me a second" he blurts out, turning left and right as he tries to remember what he's meant to do when a winner comes in. After a moment of inaction the man spins around to face the door at the back, rushing over and swinging it open before ducking his head inside.

"Something wrong Justin?" a low voice calls out from inside the room.

"No...uh...we have a winner...and..." the man says nervously, giving up on remembering what he had to do himself.

"Oh...well that's a first for us here" the low voice muses, taking the sudden appearance of a winner in stride "Send them in, I'll handle it."

"Right...got it" Justin mutters, spinning around to face me "Please head on back, Patrick can help you from here."

With a nod I follow his instructions, shuffling my way to the back of the store and slipping into the backroom.

The backroom appears to be a small office, with filing cabinets flanking a small desk. Opposite the desk sits another door, one that looks like it should lead straight into the neighboring cafe. Behind the desk sits an older gentleman in his late forties, his short greying black hair blending into a thick full beard covering his face.

"Please, have a seat Mr...Hughes" he exclaims, looking at a computer screen as he quickly begins to read my information.

"Thanks" I reply, awkwardly squeezing through the cramped space and sitting on the small plastic seat opposite Patrick.

"Sorry, just give me...one...second" Patrick mutters, his hazel eyes darting back and forth over the screen as he races through whatever he had up. "This is the first time we've had a winner here...I just need to read...your information...and...the procedure...manual."

There is an awkward silence as he reads over everything. I keep my mouth shut, instead fidgeting nervously as I try not to distract him.

Suddenly Patrick breaks the silence with a loud clap, rubbing his hands together as an eager grin forms on his lips. "Alright, first off I'd like to congratulate you on your win" he states, his voice sounding far more earnest than the one from the initial phone call. "The odds are...well you know the lottery, so meeting an actual winner is...pretty big for a local branch manager" he continues, obviously enjoying the experience.

Turning to his computer again Patrick begins to click at some unseen object, his eyes darting between three distinct spaces as his lips slightly wiggle along with his reading.

"Alright, let's bite this bullet. The three new worlds you can choose from are..."

Reality Lottery - Part One

A dull buzzing rings out beside me as I slowly stir awake, the painfully red sunrise blaring in through my window and painting my room in its crimson light. Rolling onto my side, facing away from the window in an effort to spare my eyes, I see the source of the noise. My phone is ringing on silent, eschewing my usual alarm as someone attempts to call me first thing in the morning.

"Who the fu..." I croak, squinting my eyes through the crusty sleep clinging to them in an attempt to see the caller ID. As I slowly begin to make out the white text my heart skips a beat, a cold sweat of fear running down my neck as my heart rapidly beats in excitement.

"The Reality Lottery" I whisper, reaching for the phone with a shaking hand before quickly picking it up.

The Reality Lottery had started up around a year or two back when a small proprietary company managed to create a bridge between our and another world. While this required that company to exist independently in the other world, they soon found themselves linking to more and more disparate worlds. In secret they worked with their other selves, attempting to work out how best to use and monetize their discovery. They discovered that their system had a few, minor, issues that would need to be worked around;

• Only a few individuals could move from or to a world each day, the bridge growing weaker and weaker with each subsequent travel and needing time to recharge. And,

• Only one instance of any given person could exist in any given reality. A traveller would be unable to enter a new reality so long as their counterpart was still existing in that world. However, if both were in the bridging space at the same time they could both move to each other's world. This had a strange property whereby once you stepped into a new world your body would slowly be molded by it, shifting over a matter of hours or days to become a doppelganger of your counterpart and correcting that physical discrepancy in the world.

After months of discussion and debate the company finally decided on their plan, creating a cross reality lottery which offered the chance of moving to a better life. The only problem was that they needed both people to enter the bridging space, the area connecting their realities, to effect this prize.

A simple solution was devised, there would always be a winner and a loser. When purchasing a ticket, hoping to win a better life in a new reality, you would also be put up as a prize for a winner in a worse-off reality.

A winner would receive a call, congratulating them on their win, before being given a choice of three new lives for them to take over. Upon choosing a new home reality they would simply head to their local Lottery office to accept their prize and leave their world forever.

Losers on the other hand would receive the same call but with no option or choice of body. Instead, they would be told to go to their local Lottery office willingly or a collection crew would be sent to retrieve the winner's "Prize".

I had been buying a weekly ticket for quite a while, having seen the numerous news articles about and interviews with some of the winners. A CEO who had been rejected from the initial entry-level position in their old world thanks to the employer throwing away half the resumes, a trust fund party girl whose parents had their kid a decade earlier in their home world which caused a life of relative poverty, and the world-famous guitarist who had been forced to learn and subsequently given up on the trumpet in their world thanks to a coin flip by her parents.

Other profiles were closer to fluff pieces, interviewing people about their old worlds. Some fantastical, and potentially false, recounts were given of worlds of magic and elves or worlds with technology that had would have been considered sci-fi by those of us in my world.

These profiles always followed the winners, the dream image of the lottery, while pushing any thoughts of the losers to the side in favor of hyping up what could and what would happen if you win.

Swallowing hard I bring the phone to my ear, answering the call as I shiver under the covers of my bed. "Uh...hello..." I meekly squeak into the receiver.

"Mr. Hughes?" a well-rehearsed and crystal clear voice calls out from the other end.

"Sp...speaking" I reply nervously.

"This is the Reality Lottery, we're calling you today to inform you at..."