It’s coming. I can feel it. I only just finished my last exam and, in a matter of hours, my three years put into this hole of despair will all be for naught. I’m exhausted yet I cannot sleep; I have to be prepared for whatever the worst may be. First, let’s settle my affairs in order…who am I kidding? I’m a student! The most I can do is to eat all the food from my fridge. Oh, the humanity! What a terrible time for the world to end! What can I expect? A wave of nuclear shock-waves or the slow agonizing heat of death as the atmosphere is pulled away from the Earth’s bare back. Or worse! A chasm that grows to un-calculable proportions as it pulls us into such depths that no cell phone signal could ever find its way out. What can I possibly do? All I can do is wait and watch as the clock slowly creeps up to 12.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock…I’m starting to shake.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock,…it’s getting close.
Tick, tock, tick…almost there…
The rooster flies out from the clock as it strikes the oh-so-familiar-chime often heard on nights quite like this. While nothing was moving around me, I can feel the presence of an unspoken evil in the air that repeatedly sends chills up my spine.
I can’t help but look around frantically as I struggle to finish this last account of mankind’s existence. I can hear the noises now as I feel the presence of said evil surrounding the tiny space I have held as my refuge. There are no windows or walls in this place nor any sense of time passing. Only the little clock hanging above me indicates any passage of time. I hear them banging outside the door now. They’ve got a hold of the light switch and are flicking it on and off. I cannot hear any distinct craftsmanship of language nor the sounds of order.
It’s chaos.
I try to find out more of what’s happening outside the doors but my attempts at logging onto the Facebook are futile. I can only hope and pray that the man behind such genius would have written more than that just status updates to document his life.
As of a few moments ago, I was plunged into communication darkness when my phone displayed no signal. I tried to go on the Interwebz; nothing. What was I supposed to do to bide my time now? Playing Solitaire is not enough to drown the horrors that will, inevitably, encroach itself upon me.
Oh no, the electricity is gone. My laptop has only forty minutes of battery left. The force outside is relentless as it hears me incessantly typing away. Now, if only such perils clawed after me when I was in Psychology class, perhaps those thousand-word papers would have been written in the record pace that I have now set for myself; however, I digress.
What is that I hear? Some strange music outside with the indication of synchronized movements. Some relief, I guess; the demons that come for the few that remain are intelligent creatures with a remarkable sense of rhythm. Yet again, I digress.
Looking back at what I have written so far, it can only be said that I write because I feel that it is a privelege, not a right, to do so. I could talk about the life I have led so far: the disappearance of Albert the Fly., the editorials “that don’t even pretend to flow”, the countless rants on all subjects, the consistent criticism of the nano class, the 4-column pictures (how they frustrate me!), and, of course, the disappearance of Hans Solo.
Oh wait! I’ve been interrupted again not by the noises but the sudden silence that descends outside the shielding powers of my door. I now hear the sounds of power and glamour somehow intertwined as the deliberate sounds of “clickity-clack” make their way closer to the door. Suddenly, it stops. It says something indiscernible that I can’t make out…
SMASH!
The door comes crashing down while the lights are shutout permanently! I struggle to add the last words of this passage before they take control of my vices. I’ve never typed so fast in my life as they rush and gra…
No! I need to fin…adifjaoidfjuoiajeadkfjdfda…I fear the unkn…
They’ve let me go…but not before the creature embedded something under my skin. They’ve left me be as they hunt they’re next victim. I don’t know how much time I have but I resolve to write as much as I can, whether it makes any sense or not. I highly doubt that whoever survives will find this useful but it keeps me busy nonetheless.
With this possibly being the last paragraph I ever write, I can only say that Success Baby is the only good thing to come out of the insurgence of memes, LEGO is the greatest toy ever, and I hate peas…I seem to be losing my mental faculty. I feel the need to kick of my Chuck’s and put on some five-inch heels. It must be the toxin that flows through me. I’m now feeling light-headed and am struggling to wr…
KLJAFDKJLFADKDKLgetyourarticlesinKJDFLJDLJLSFLDDKDSJFLDJOIUDFEOIsticktothewordcountsKDJLIDJUOIFUODFDFDFKJDFslashthatsentenceDKFJDLSJFLD:SFDSUFILDJFCKate’syellingatmeDKFJOSDPFFJDKSFJ:LJDKFJLSDJFsleepisfortheweakKDJFIJSDPFDFJDKJFLWIOUELFDFKJLSnomorepictureKDJAKSWWIHCAFDKJFDSgetyourarticlesinKDJFLDJFJUOQOJCKJEOICKEOIUbluescreenofdeathLDJFOLIUPFKDFJLDFJIDFDFLLFJIDFOS
Hello again! It’s me! I must say that I’m going to be quite different from what you’re used to. For one, I never wear pants nor I do I consider anything flat in nature to be an acceptable form of footwear. Oh Rocky, my darling! How lovely it is to see how well you’re building your muscles. I can see how that laser made of pure anti-matter can never penetrate the bulging biceps or the pulsating pectorals that form the gentle ripples on your body. Have I said too much?
Leave a Reply