Categories > Original > Drama
Dear Journal.
Kinda late to start writing in you, I suppose. Sarah gave you to me for my birthday once, presumably to record my life in. My trials and tribulations, my comforts my ecstasies my philosophies... And as much as I wish I could do all that, there isn't time. Because it's the End of the World.
No, I'm not speaking metaphorically; I'm not going to college, no important family member has died, and I'm not moving out of the house. No, it's humanity's final Act, in which giant rocks from space come crashing into our not-so-serene, ever-so-fragile little world, bringing instant oblivion to a large part of the planet and certain death to the rest.
There's all sorts of panic everywhere right now; United Nations trying to figure out something, and how that something can be used to save who, families finding ways to be together, often praying together. I was kinda surprised to find out how many people living nearby were so religious. Kind of an eye opener.
But even with all the chaos and psuedo-order going on around me, I'm feeling far more serene than I thought I would in my every hypothetical. After a couple hours of panic upon learning of our destiny, I found myself yelling to the night sky, "Come on, Universe! Have you run out of tricks already?" Because jokes are only funny once.
Soon, I began deliberation on what I would spend my last days doing. First, I wanted a sense of completion. Being the enormous nerd I am, this meant finishing the various games I had shelved. So I'm a whore for a decent story, sue me. Court's not in session and no lawyer would be bothered to take the case. The gamer and wanna-be storyteller in me satisfied, I moved on to the remnants of the socialite within me. Thanks and apologies and confessions followed for several days, to friends, old "foes," and everyone I knew or cared about at a point in time and had something I never said to. Finally, I went to my family, getting to know the members I didn't know, and learning more about the ones I thought I did.
There was one last thing to do before I was ready to face the world's end.
I left my home of thirteen or so years, leaving naught but a long letter to my family. An apology. It was the longest, and probably the most beautiful thing I've ever written. I would probably never see them again, and it would've killed me to simply leave. Alexi always said I wasn't really part of the family, and my leaving probably proved it to her. I suppose it doesn't matter now.
I took a walk to my friend's house, since I'm too much of a loser to drive yet. Which was a good thing, since I needed the entire half-hour to word what I was going to say appropriately.
To my delight, he acquiesced to my request.
You see, I don't have many Friends, with a capitol F. Many who I did have, I lost at one point or another. Right now, I have three or four. That group, I think, I could give my life for, I care so much about them. I don't know if the feeling is mutual, and I suspect it isn't, but to me it doesn't matter. There are no trucks to push them out of the way of, and there is no Higher Power looking to make a morbid deal. So the closest I can come to that is to spend what time I have left with them. I'm not sure if my friend felt the same, or if he felt he was granting a last request, but we got in his car and were off to start picking people up. We managed to convince and cram in a couple, but had to move up to another car when I asked them to bring along any of their friends they wanted to.
Soon we had a small procession, all leaving the limits of the city, to find somewhere peaceful to sit and wait. Not everyone was able, or willing to leave their families for my little gathering, but enough came that the group on a whole was satisfied. I didn't even know the names of several people there, but I was glad to have them anyway. We've spent several hours here, on this ridge we found, and laughed and talked and some cried, amongst whom I was a number, and built a large fire so that we wouldn't freeze before Impact. Impact is tonight, or this morning, and some of us count down the hours, trying to make jest of the whole thing.
This journal was given to me by my cousin Sarah so that I might record my life within its pages. Instead, I chose to record my final night of life. The Impact will occur close enough to here that none of us has any chance to live through it. Together, this small group of teenagers waits for death. We are standing on the edge of oblivion.
And you know what? I could not be happier.
Kinda late to start writing in you, I suppose. Sarah gave you to me for my birthday once, presumably to record my life in. My trials and tribulations, my comforts my ecstasies my philosophies... And as much as I wish I could do all that, there isn't time. Because it's the End of the World.
No, I'm not speaking metaphorically; I'm not going to college, no important family member has died, and I'm not moving out of the house. No, it's humanity's final Act, in which giant rocks from space come crashing into our not-so-serene, ever-so-fragile little world, bringing instant oblivion to a large part of the planet and certain death to the rest.
There's all sorts of panic everywhere right now; United Nations trying to figure out something, and how that something can be used to save who, families finding ways to be together, often praying together. I was kinda surprised to find out how many people living nearby were so religious. Kind of an eye opener.
But even with all the chaos and psuedo-order going on around me, I'm feeling far more serene than I thought I would in my every hypothetical. After a couple hours of panic upon learning of our destiny, I found myself yelling to the night sky, "Come on, Universe! Have you run out of tricks already?" Because jokes are only funny once.
Soon, I began deliberation on what I would spend my last days doing. First, I wanted a sense of completion. Being the enormous nerd I am, this meant finishing the various games I had shelved. So I'm a whore for a decent story, sue me. Court's not in session and no lawyer would be bothered to take the case. The gamer and wanna-be storyteller in me satisfied, I moved on to the remnants of the socialite within me. Thanks and apologies and confessions followed for several days, to friends, old "foes," and everyone I knew or cared about at a point in time and had something I never said to. Finally, I went to my family, getting to know the members I didn't know, and learning more about the ones I thought I did.
There was one last thing to do before I was ready to face the world's end.
I left my home of thirteen or so years, leaving naught but a long letter to my family. An apology. It was the longest, and probably the most beautiful thing I've ever written. I would probably never see them again, and it would've killed me to simply leave. Alexi always said I wasn't really part of the family, and my leaving probably proved it to her. I suppose it doesn't matter now.
I took a walk to my friend's house, since I'm too much of a loser to drive yet. Which was a good thing, since I needed the entire half-hour to word what I was going to say appropriately.
To my delight, he acquiesced to my request.
You see, I don't have many Friends, with a capitol F. Many who I did have, I lost at one point or another. Right now, I have three or four. That group, I think, I could give my life for, I care so much about them. I don't know if the feeling is mutual, and I suspect it isn't, but to me it doesn't matter. There are no trucks to push them out of the way of, and there is no Higher Power looking to make a morbid deal. So the closest I can come to that is to spend what time I have left with them. I'm not sure if my friend felt the same, or if he felt he was granting a last request, but we got in his car and were off to start picking people up. We managed to convince and cram in a couple, but had to move up to another car when I asked them to bring along any of their friends they wanted to.
Soon we had a small procession, all leaving the limits of the city, to find somewhere peaceful to sit and wait. Not everyone was able, or willing to leave their families for my little gathering, but enough came that the group on a whole was satisfied. I didn't even know the names of several people there, but I was glad to have them anyway. We've spent several hours here, on this ridge we found, and laughed and talked and some cried, amongst whom I was a number, and built a large fire so that we wouldn't freeze before Impact. Impact is tonight, or this morning, and some of us count down the hours, trying to make jest of the whole thing.
This journal was given to me by my cousin Sarah so that I might record my life within its pages. Instead, I chose to record my final night of life. The Impact will occur close enough to here that none of us has any chance to live through it. Together, this small group of teenagers waits for death. We are standing on the edge of oblivion.
And you know what? I could not be happier.
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