Unfinished scifi project

The year is 2198. A virtual reality apparatus has sprung the world into a new technological Renaissance.  Although tested for over one hundred years, the Viaggi has had an effect on humans, sending users into a comatose state.

“Mom, the Viaggi made me sign out AGAIN.” B64-867 yelled downstairs.

“Honey, you know you can’t stay inside for more than 12 hours.  You have to spend some time with your family.  Now come downstairs and eat something.” C11-984 yelled to her child.

B64-867 rushed downstairs, slightly upset that he had been kicked out of the Viaggi yet again.  He sat at the circular globe with his parents, and made his selection for dinner.  Tonight consisted of partially dried tomatoes, raw potatoes, and a protein paste.  For dessert, a sugar cube, dissolved in water.

The globe dissipated, and trays ejected from slots inside the cube.  From there, the cube flattened, and images of current events, alongside news articles, were projected from the now flattened cube.

“Mother, why does it always kick me out?  You can stay in as long as you want.”

C11-984 sighed. “We’ve gone through this a thousand times, son.  Your brain has not fully developed.  Your frontal lobe is still in development.  More than 12 hours inside the Viaggi could potentially harm you, cause seizures, or even worse.  That’s why these people are going into the hospital.  You don’t want to go to the hospital, do you?”

B64-687 knew all about the hospital.  People only went there when the Universal couldn’t cure you.  And the Universal could do anything.

B64-687 finished his delicious dessert, and thought to himself.  Tomorrow was a special day, and he needed his rest.  He kissed his mother goodnight, and headed upstairs.  He shut the door, and turned off all the lights.  But the Viaggi was still turned on.  Sometimes B64-687 tinkered with the Viaggi, and sometimes if he was careful enough, he would bypass the child-safety override, and could do anything he wanted.  Maybe tonight he would get lucky.

After a few minutes, he was back inside the Viaggi.  What would he be this time? A dog, his favorite, or something new? He remembered being an adult one time, and it was no fun.  So he decided to be his favorite dog again.  He inserted the needles into his arms, which pumped the relaxing fluid that sent him to sleep.  The Viaggi hummed for a few seconds, and turned on.  The slow humming lulled him into a deep slumber, and soon B64-687 was playing in the biggest dog park in Haven.

C11-984 had finished her meal late, and after sending the plates into the Universal, she went upstairs to her room.  She usually kissed her child good night, but there was no light on, and she could hear B64-687 deep asleep.  She went to her room, shut the door, and lay down on the bed.  She still had a few hours left in the Viaggi, so she sat in the seat.  She sighed, tired of living alone.  She browsed the massive library, went into the “Adults Only” section, and inserted both needles.  Before five minutes, she was deep asleep.

Good morning, dear.  The universal said.  B64-687 rolled over, beside his owner.  The beautiful woman sat underneath the covers he slept on, and she sighed.  Today was Monday, and that meant double-time in the Viaggi.  She rolled out of bed, and went into the restroom.  B64-687 usually looked inside, but this time, he decided to go outside and play some more.  But a loud knock at the door startled him, and he waited for his owner to come downstairs.

The owner ran downstairs, hoping it was her partner.  She opened the door only to find two men in suits, flashing badges at her.  They then pushed past her, and immediately started rifling through every piece of furniture.  The Universal quickly asked for a reason for the intrusion, but one of the men simply walked over to the control panel, and snipped a few wires.  The Universal shut down, and the apartment turned dark. 

It was too dark to see anything, so B64-687 hid behind some furniture.  He then heard a scream from the owner, and after a few minutes of hiding, decided to leave the Viaggi.

The darkness of his room not at all comforting, B64-687 quickly took out his two needles, and ran to the light switch.  What had he seen?  He walked outside into the hallway, and down the stairs.  The Universal’s clock read 4:50 AM.  His mother would be up soon, he knew. He went back upstairs and crawled into bed.

The Gulf

The following accounts were found inside a bottle, located off the coast of Galveston.

I did “tours.”  I drive a boat throughout the Gulf of Mexico.  I started in Galveston.  The port was always extremely busy, so busy, that most of the time my small boat was overlooked.

We rode, straddling the Texas border.  We would make no stops, until we hit Mexico.  Back then, border patrol was loose.  If you slipped a few hundred dollars, you got in, no questions asked.  This was where I made most of my money.  Aside from gringos buying more than their share of alcohol, and paying to ride my boat, I made even more money smuggling my friends.  My tour ended in Nuevo Laredo.  I was from Mexico City, but I was scared for my life.  My father was beheaded in front of my grandmother when I was small.  I happened to be at the docks, and saw the previous owner of the boat, Paul.  He did these tours, up to Galveston. I snuck on one evening, amid the old women. 

He took a notice to me, and asked me what I was doing.  “I was on this tour!” I lied.  He smiled.  “For this tour, you need five hundred dollars, friend.” He told me. 

We arranged a deal that he would let me work on his boat, doing grunt work.  I was happy to oblige.  I never stepped off the boat in Nuevo.

He died in 1982, and left the boat to me.  When he died, I removed all of the bottom storage.  My living quarters were removed as well.  I turned all of this into a hidden area.  I smuggled up to twenty men, women and children up north when possible.  As I stated before, the Patrol was very lenient back then.

On the 29^th of September, I took my usual departure from Nuevo.  The clouds were alright, and the wind was in my favor.  This boat had been built in the 60’s (initially used for meat transport) and anytime we could coast I was glad to.

Aboard my “stock” were 15 “friends.”  There was an old woman that I had almost left at the dock.  She claimed she had no money, but was going to die if she didn’t go.  All of the other on board begged me not to let her on, claiming she was some kind of witch or dark magician. 

I am a skeptic, I was no Christian man.  I had read many books on board our boat as a teenager and young adult, and the occult and afterlife had no effect on me. So when I let her onboard, a few of them gave me their money back and left.  I was upset, but I still made more than enough money.

That night around three, I heard screaming below deck.  The tourists were all drunk, most asleep.  I went downstairs to check on the noise.

As I got to the latch, I was startled.  It sounded like there were clawing noises on the other side of the hatch.  There were noises that sounded like they were trying to beat the door open.

I stomped on the door.

“Be quiet! Do you want them to find us? Do you want to die in jail, my friends?”

They were all screaming now! “Witch! Witch! Let us out!” They were all crying.  I went back to the captain’s area and took a look around.  They were all standing at the edge, sipping drinks, or asleep on the foldout chairs.

I grabbed my revolver from a drawer and returned to the latch.

The noise had completely ceased.  I cocked my gun, and opened the padlock. I looked down.  It was completely dark, aside from a candle.  The faint glow illuminated the ladder down.

I peered inside before descending.  There was nothing.

I locked the latch again, and made my way to my personal area again.  I took the flashlight, looking one more time at the passengers.  They were all relaxed.  I looked at the sky.  It was a full moon.  It seemed abnormally large tonight.  The waves were dimly lit, swaying back and forth.  Beneath the ocean, the reflections of my headlights almost looked like eyes staring directly at me.  Mine didn’t have dark centers though…

I cocked my gun and made my way back.  I opened the latch, and climbed down.

There was a hideous sight to behold.  The candles were all lit now.

Hanging from the rusted hooks in the ceiling were the corpses of 14 of my friends.  They were all skinned.  The piles of skin were all in a pile in the corner.  Flies buzzed around, everywhere.  The old woman sat in the back, against the wall.  I waved my flashlight toward her.

“What have you done? What is this?” I demanded.  Her eyes were completely dark.
“What have you done?!” I screamed at her.  The smell of the corpses reminded me of my childhood. 

She began screaming.  “To make this trip, we must make sacrifices.  Did you think you made all of these trips for free? The ones below need to be fed.”

This was enough.  The woman had obviously lost it.  I left the room, locking the door again.  I could smell the rotting flesh outside, and vomited overboard.

I went to my observation area and looked out.  There was no one there.  A small trail of what looked like intestines hung over one rail.

I walked onto the deck.  There was no sign of commotion, and I had heard nothing.  No drinks were to be found, no messes made at all.  Their belongings however, were scattered around.  What the fuck was going on?

I tucked the gun inside the back of my pants.

The waves were now crashing against every side of the boat.  The sea was rougher than I had ever seen.  This was unheard of.  The weather does not simply change on a whim! The sky had become cloudy.  The stars were mostly out of sight, aside from the unnatural moon.

I climbed down the hatch once again.

“I will ask you one more time, woman.  What have you done? Why is the ocean acting like this now?”

She began laughing hysterically.  “The ones below! They will come to feed! We are all rotten! They will come soon! You will-“
I shot one bullet directly into her face.  The bullet hit her lower jaw, and I remember hearing the bone hit the wood, and the teeth spilling around it.  Blood leaked from her mouth, and her tongue hung agape. 
She lunged towards me, and I got one more shot off.  It went directly through her chest, and the exit wound made a large mess against the wall.  She stood, clutching her abdomen.  I shot once more, missing her completely.  The bullet went through the wood, and I could hear the engine stop.

I had hit something critical.  I cursed, and stared at the woman.  Her eyes were completely empty, the darkness coming from them sent chills down my back.  She took to her knees, and fell face first.  I quickly made my way up the ladder, and made sure two times that I had locked the door shut.

The boat was no longer moving in any direction.  The moon was completely blacked out.  The darkness completely consumed my vision.  I made my way to my area and grasped for the elecic lantern I kept for emergencies.

I tried and tried to turn it on, but there was no success.  I kept no lighters onboard due to the old captain’s fear of fires.  The ocean had slowed down.  It faintly brushed up against the boat. The cold silence of the night could only be enhanced by the sloshing of those black, sinister waves.

I sat in my chair, clueless what to do.  The engine was now dead.  I had no way of wayfaring. The night was completely blacked out.  Not a single star was visible.

The moon was gone as well.  There was no navigation at this point.

Behind me, I heard a faint plop.  My spine tensed up.  Something was sliding away-no, towards me. More plops.  First a few, then more.  Dozens of them.  My field of vision was about a foot in front of me.  I saw something that I can never forget.  Tentacles, thicker than even the largest python I had ever seen, were sliding inward from both side of the boat. 

My eyes widened, and a faint whimper escaped from my throat.  I tried once again to get my lantern to work.  I mashed the on button, over and over. 

I wish that I had not tried, that I had just jumped overboard and made my way to the shore. 

The lantern flickered on, slowly at first.  In front of me, I could see the entire body of the boat.

Hundreds of tentacles were lined up across the deck.  All of them were a dark grey, fleshy color.  Their puckers were stuck against the deck.  These were twice the size of a common dinner plate.

At the head of the boat, nothing was to be seen.  The ocean crashed softly against the sides of the boat.

I turned around to make my way back into the smuggling area. 

A mountain of flesh one hundred times the size of my boat floated behind the deck.  A singular eye peered at me, with no emotion, no thought.  It blinked once, coldly.  I stood, frozen in place. 

I remember that noise.  That cracking noise.  The wooden planks began giving, snapping one by one.  Then, instantly, the entire boat began to crack.  The noise was so loud that I lost all hearing instantly. The last thing I remember hearing was the roar of my ship being ripped in half in almost a second.

I fell in the water.  The planks cut against me, and I remember feeling one of those tentacles slither against my leg as I fell in the water.  The salt stung my open wounds. In the water, I could see nothing.  I tried to swim “up” but direction had no definition here.  The sea was completely engulfed in darkness.  I sat for a moment, accepting my death.

Then, I saw the darkness move.  It slid away, faster than any plane I had seen.  It was gone.  I could see the moon above me, and made my way to the surface.

There was nothing left.  Absolutely nothing.  It had to be around four AM.  The sun rose soon after, and a deep-sea fishing boat found me.  I was found 240 miles away from the shore, almost in the heart of the Gulf.

I write this note, in the hopes that someone finds it and heeds my warning:

Never travel on the Gulf at night.  

Apartment

I don’t remember walking outside, or even being outside.

It was sunset, or a little after. The streetlight above me had just cut on. I stared at the bulb, watching it glow in the dark purple sky. There was a single puddle below me, at the end of the stairs. It had rained yesterday. (Had it?)

The faint hum of an air conditioning unit rattled at the back of the building. I looked around.

A girl, in her 20’s, checking her mailbox. I stared for probably a second too long, and averted myself. At our building all of the units were empty, aside from mine and one near the end.

I could see that old lady, puffing at her cigarette, near the end. My unit was at the sub basement level, it took a flight of stairs to get to them. I caught the old woman’s gaze for a moment, and walked down.

It was foggy outside, so much that the steps before me were hard to see. Around the back of the building stood a forest, the trees stretching higher than I cared to look. There was never anything there. Never a single noise.

I slid my key inside the lock, and heard the familiar click. As I turned to close the door, something within the trees shifted. I locked the door quickly.

My walls were bare, no posters, nor art. Nothing stood up furniture wise either. The living room was completely empty, as well as the kitchen. Inside the fridge were a few bottles of water. I slid my hand across the cap and popped it open. The taste was sweet.

I slid into the bedroom. Here, one quilt and another quilt bundled up as a pillow lay. The clock had over an inch of dust on it, as well as some small pebbles.

I laid down, my hands crossed over my chest. The hum of the unit outside was relaxing.

In the darkness, something woke me. Above me, loud beating noises. THUMP! THUMP! A girl screaming, playfully.

Probably someone having fun. Okay.

My eyes closed.

The screaming became even louder. The thudding noises increased in tempo. Something being knocked over, and then a shuffling noise. More screaming, this not in pleasure, but in pain. Fear. Sweat rolled down my forehead. One more thud.

No noise.

Something being dragged away, towards the front of the building. The door slammed shut.

I drifted into a slumber…

This time, something was clawing at the door. I always locked my bedroom door. They had told me that from the beginning. My condition had also led me to do this every night.

The scratching continued, and in the darkness my eyes could barely make out some dark fingers. I turned over, the persistent scratching stopping after a moment. The door was KICKED open, and loud footsteps made their way around my back, in front of my legs, and…

Nothing.

I rolled over, and the door was still closed. The moon teased the idea of light outside, against the dark trees, The air conditioner was off, the air was silent. The night was still.

The old woman peered inside, looking into my house. Her white eyes looked directly at me. The slid across the room, right to left. She took out a cigarette, walked into the window frame. CHICK. Her lighter sparked, and the cigarette fuzzed into a bright orange circle.

She stood there, for a few minutes, until the cigarette had dwindled to the butt. She continued to stand there, staring directly at me. She then began walking away.

Her head peeped inside once more, her eyes rolling from left to right. Her head craned back into the nothingness and that was all.

Outside my door, someone began to cough. It was slow at first, beginning with grunts. He then began to belch, and gag. I could hear liquids splattering onto the hardwood floor. He began violently vomiting, and the splashing was infinitely disgusting. He continued to do this for at least 5 minutes straight.

After that, footsteps led away from the door.

Woods

It was 7:21 PM.  I was always early to anything and everything.  I sat in my car, like any other day, waiting.

The local news played softly inside the car, the windows down just a hair.  It was cold outside, but I preferred it to be a little on the chilly side.

I waited for 9 minutes.

She still hadn’t arrived. 

I waited 4 more minutes. 

My phone goes off.  “I’m almost here!” With various emoji’s.  I despised the use of them, however had begun to accustom myself with them in the dating scene.

“I’m driving a red Honda Civic!” She sent next.

“Cool! I am in a gray Taurus!” I replied.

I sat inside my black Challenger waiting.  The restaurant served alcohol, and it was dinner time.  I was hoping a few of them walloping outside the restaurant wouldn’t see what was about to happen.

At 7:56 she pulled into the parking lot.  Of course, she was larger than her pictures looked.  As I expected.  She pulled into her spot and looked down at her phone.  My phone vibrates with “I’m here!” displayed on my screen.

Good.

“Meet me inside!” I reply.  I watch her waddle inside, nervous. 

My beard itched, and I obliged my nerves and dug my fingernails into my neck.

I changed my mind.

I pulled off, out of the parking lot and into the distance.  The sun had just set a moment ago. The pink hues played with the dark purple of dusk. 

I rode the highway like a winding river, through its delicate curves, on and on.

I ended up at the park.  It had an enormous hill that always made me fear that I was going to bottom out going down.  I never did. 

At the top of the hill, it was completely dark.  The streetlights had all gone out.  This was odd, but so was tonight.  I parked my car, and sat. 

The delicate humming noises of human voices tickled my loneliness at night.  Just loud enough to hear, not loud enough to be legible.  People talking got on my nerves.  They went on and on…

My car was the only one in the parking lot.  Usually there was a stray teenage couple performing inside their car, or an old man eating alone.  Tonight I was completely alone. It was very nice.  The darkness consumed me.  Without the hum of my engine, only the radio kept me away from nature.

I decided to turn it off as well.  The click of the radio signified my marriage with the wild.

I sat in complete silence.  My breath was quiet.  Sometimes I longed to hear the breath of another, but she would never be there. 

The park was quite simple when it came to layout.  There was a large picnic area covered with a roof, containing a bathroom as well.  A very small airstrip for hobby planes was beside that, as well as a small round track for RC car enthusiasts.  The rest of the park was encompassed by a complete wooded area. 

I surveyed the area.  I tended to dart my eyes back and forth, ever since the Accident, I had become keen in all 5 of my senses.  We didn’t need any more mistakes.

But enough about that.  My eyes darted back and forth, to and fro.  The woods had a gloomy sadness that made me yearn for someone again, if only for an instant.

In the east section of the woods, I spotted a small glow.  A fire? It was a bit late for anyone to be out here.  The park rules required everyone to be out by nightfall.  This peaked my curiosity. 

I wondered if they knew I had been sitting here for the last half hour.  I also wondered what they were doing this time of night.

The flames flickered up and down, yes, it was indeed a fire.  The glow had become larger.  I watched for a bit, my curiosity peaked.  I got outside of my car and stared into the distance.  My hands inside my pockets began to get cold, my fingertips beginning to lose feeling.  This was odd. The low for tonight was only 64.  I opened my trunk, put on my long jacket as well as my gloves.

It was April, but it felt like January.  My face was becoming numb now.  My interest however, had grown too much to handle.  I began making my way towards the east.  I went inside the tree line, to conceal my entrance. 

A straight shot to them would have been about a quarter mile, but taking the inside route was about a mile.  I began to feel beads of sweat roll down my neck and forehead.  It was nice to feel some warmth for a while.

As I grew closer to the Strangers, I began to hear some sort of chanting.  Maybe loud moaning as well.  There were low voices, as well as almost shrieks coming up sometimes.  My spine tingled, but my feet were moving without my minds’ consent.

As I grew ever closer, the chanting and guttural moaning became very loud.  Through the trees, I could spot between 6-8 figures dancing around the fire.  They were wearing nothing.  They were all female, of different races.

At this point I could not move.  My eyes were fixed upon this ritual.  The women danced frantically around the fire, changing and screaming.  Their voices rose higher and higher, speaking in tongues.  My body was frozen in a crouched position.  My knees screamed but my mind ordered to stay put.  The girls finally stopped, and all kneeled down.  One of them walked toward the fire and yelled something.  I watched in awe as she dragged one of the girls toward the fire.  She brandished a small knife, and slit the younger ones neck. 

The blood spurt directly into the fire, and the other girls began to wail frantically.  The screaming became so loud that my temples began to sting.

At this point I decided that my time had come to get the fuck out of here.

I began making my way back, keeping my eyes fixed upon the women.  One of them looked in my direction, and her gaze was that of a lover.  She did look familiar…

No.  I retreated even further.  I made my way back, staying inside the woods as I had come.

Every direction sent chills down my spine.  I had buried many here, and on those nights I had felt nothing.  But tonight…

It was not the small sounds that frightened me, but the absence of any sound.  The only thing I could hear at this point were the various twigs and pinecones cracking underneath my feet.  I turned around.

I had reached about the halfway point.  To my left, the fire had gone out.  There was no longer anyone at that position.  To my right, the parking lot.  My car was a shade darker than the trees around it.

I began making my way towards it, walking at a pace that made the sweat roll out even faster down my neck.

The sheer absence of any noise was enough to make me want to run.  There was no noise at all.  Even my feet rushing upon the grass made not a single soundwave. 

I still did not sprint.  For some reason, I did not want to give away my position. 

I had left the woods at this point, and headed straight through the field.  I was ready to leave this instant. 

For some reason, it had gone even darker than before.  The moon had disappeared.  Only a half hour ago it had led my trip through the woods to see the girls.  It was now completely dark.  My hands and legs were the only thing I could see now.

I began to curse inside my head.  I turned around, and what I saw chilled me to this day.

I saw not a few, nor dozen, but hundreds of eyes shining in the trees.  The same shine that a cat would have in the dark.  Hundreds of these reflected at me through those Old Trees. I reached inside my pocket and gripped my key.

I had been heading straight toward the car before, so I turned my body around once again-

And my face smashed into something soft.  I looked up, and was inside the bosom of a woman at least 7 feet tall.  She wore all black, and a dark hood over her face.  Her eyes did not shine back at me. I stepped backward, into another fiercely strong body.  I turned about again to see another woman of the same stature.

I began to panic.  I tried to sprint anywhere, ANYWHERE, but a firm hand grasped my shoulder.  Tears began to roll out my eyes, and soft whimpers tried to escape my throat.

I closed my eyes, tears rolling down my face.

I suddenly began to feel weightless, and cold again.  My eyes opened. 

My feet suddenly had nothing beneath them.  I was going up.

My eyes open.

The humidifier in my bedroom hums. 

The cool air around my bed scolds at me; I turn on my side and stare into the empty doorway.

Did I shut the door last night?

More importantly, did I lock it?

 

 

The steam of the shower baptizes me into reality.

My cold, grey eyes stare back at me through the mirror.  I begin shaving.  The cold steel glides across my skin, cutting, one by one…

The air outside is warm.  The rain had come and gone last night, yes, I remember now. 

The liquor of the night before made it unclear sometimes.  I always forgot what happened.  I was always trying to forget. 

 

I insert my key into the lock, turn left, then right again.  My key exits.  I push against the door to make sure. My curtain moves, ever so slightly…

 

I arrive at work.  There is a pebble inside my floor mat, I notice upon leaving.  I remove it, carefully, and set it on the ground.  I shut the door, and lock her.

I walk inside.  The smell of chlorine, bleach, and sweat run through my nostrils and down my throat.  It burns, and tickles the depth of my chest.

They are all at play, making noise.  Everyone, of all ages.  The noise.  It irked me so, every day, to no end.  Maybe today it will happen.  We will see, I think to myself. Pray to myself…

I am older, this is true.  My features are dark, the bags underneath my eyes and wrinkles from the stress of youth, and my eyes cold, and grey.

I sit upon my perch, my watch, and wait.

My eyes scan, back and forth, across the waters.  Left to right, slowly now.

Horseplay here and there, it will not do.

But a cracked skull on the concrete, yes, this will do.  Their brains draining inside the water, the mist and warmth flowing ever so slowly beyond.  This will do.  I lower my whistle from my mouth.  When did I raise it?

 

I watch, for hours.  Nothing happens.  Nothing usually happens.  The Others make sure of that.

Just as I begin to think of my nightly routine, I see towards the left of the pool.  A struggle? I begin to see the white bubbles of chaotic movement.

My lips curl, ever so slightly, at an upward angle.

I can see it now.  The girls getting out of the water and screaming for help.  My body rises.  Muscle memory takes over, and before I can react, my body does it for me.  I am inside the water, darting towards her.

Somewhere between the age of 10, or 11, the small frail body is wriggling.  Her eyes are wide, her arms are flailing, but with no finesse.  No, this will not do.  Who let her inside here?

I grab her, and look into her eyes.  I can she has taken in water.  Her mouth was wide open during screaming.  Yes, the water has begun to film her lungs.  Tsk, tsk. 

I grab her small neck.  I can feel her begin to struggle.  It is very small.  Perfect for my hand.  She is making so much of a fuss, so many waves and bubbles.  No one can see this.

Her eyes look directly into mine.  I watch, as they dart up toward the surface, back at me.  The world is a cruel place. 

I make way towards the surface, it seems I was too late...

Water

This piece of paper was found in the top floor of a farmhouse owned by C. Isaac 36 days after the rain began

The old farmhouse is crumbling into small, smooth pieces. 

The rain has not stopped for nineteen days.  No one knows why.  The sun has just gone away, replaced by gray endless clouds. 

I haven't complained.  Everyone is complaining.  What will we do? Are we all going to die?

Does it really matter?  It was something we have no control over.

The first couple days were alright.  Sure is raining a lot!  Miss the sun! Can’t wait for it to warm up!

After 6 days people began to panic.  Most of the cities that were below sea level or near it had sank.  Up here, in our mountain community, where we grew cotton, people had begun flocking up to higher ground.  The rain had washed many cities away, and people were crying “Apocalypse! He’s coming back! He’s washing us away!”

I laughed.

My brother had gone to see our mother in Tennessee after the third day of raining, claiming “He wanted to see her one last time.”  I think the weather had gotten to him.  I think staying inside had given him cabin fever.  Dealing with me for more than 30 hours was a chore, obviously.

I had waved him goodbye, watching him slide out of the driveway, never to be seen again.

The rain tipped and tapped on my roof.

I lived by candlelight at this point, as power had gone out across the world.  Electricity wasn’t much fun when water was surrounding you.

The President had declared “National Emergency” or some shit yesterday.  That was day 18. We’re on 19 right?

Some people in town have begun to build boats.  The ground is wet a mush now.  My farm has turned into a greenish-brown pile of shit. 

I’ve been by myself for-32 years? (That’s a joke) 16 days-it was heaven.  I didn’t want to see another human for as long as I lived.  I hoped the rain would wash me away.

But it hadn’t-HASN’t-yet.  My first floor was flooded.  There was no trying to communicate with anyone outside.  Even the squatters had moved farther upland.  There wasn’t much running they could do.  I can tell, it’s all over.  I couldn’t be happier.

My wife had killed herself 32 years ago.  I came inside from the farm to find her hanging from some rope, from rope that was from this farm.  It was funny, to think about that. A desperate cackle may escape my throat every few days.  That’s about the only thing that comes out.

Surprisingly, there were no looters.  We only had a couple stores, and not many people came through town.  A few young people, who camped in our yard for about 3 days, were the only ones I personally saw.  The rain let up, and then it would begin to pour.  It was random.

No matter what, throughout the day though, the drops would hit my roof, pitter patter, tick tock, the clock goes round, round the clock it goes, pitter patter, drip drop.

After 18 days the government had given up, I think.  Even the radio went off.

Now I sit alone, in the attic, listening to the rain.  Watching out the small, circular window that overlooks the farm.  Looking outside gives me a sense of hopelessness, but was it anything new? Was anything I had experienced in this life worthwhile?

If anyone finds this, which I doubt, because it is all about to end, then I hope you have fun.  I hope the world started anew.  I hope this is indecipherable.

Want to know what I see outside?

A lake.

And I think it’s about time I took a swim.

Car dealership horror thing

It was on the 29^th of October that I had acquired a particularly small car.  Known to many as a joke car or a toaster, I had lost my job as an accountant at a highly prestigious credit union, and had undergone many budget cuts.  I had sold my old car for something a little cheaper, insurance and gas wise.  At the dealership, the usual balding man scuttled out from inside the warm dealership.  It was raining, and about 48 degrees.  The wind chilled me to the bone, and I was looking for something economic.  I also was looking for a speedy process.  I hated dealing with confrontation, and I hated salesmen even more.  I had previously worked in retail, and knew the amount of sheer lying that went on day to day.  And so it was.

The small black car was sitting in one of the rows, clean as it could be with the rain, and I pointed towards it.  The salesman laughed, Marcus, I think his name was.  He tried to lead me over to the more expensive side, where the SUV’s and sports cars waited.  I told him of my financial status and that I had assumed a minimum wage job.  His smile quickly faded, as he knew along with this, warranties and other non-essentials would not be sold.  So after some haggling, he let me test drive the small car.

On the road, I got to test the lights and wipers, along with the utter slowness the car possessed.  Marcus laughed every time I tried to enter the freeway, slugging along, and once almost being rear ended by a rather angry Southerner.  His laugh and breath were completely disgusting, and annoyed me to the near point of ramming the car into the side of the freeway.  But I needed a car cheap, so I smiled and nodded my head when he made a comment.  I pretended to be the fool that Marcus wanted me to be.

After pulling into the dealership and going inside, we haggled even more about the price.  I was set on a fair figure of $7,000, with no warranties, no extras, not even electric windows.  Of course, Marcus tried his very hardest to push everything, and after forty-five minutes, and the threat of a lost sale, Marcus sold me the small car for $8,200.  I was unhappy already, but the simple act of being done with this scum of the earth was enough to make me take out a loan of $1,200 at an unfathomable interest rate.

As I drove off in my new “toy car” as Marcus called it, he smiled one last time, and waved.  As I waited to go back into traffic, I looked at him.  I stared for more than a few moments, and began to laugh hysterically.  Marcus was such a simple man, with only money in mind.  I turned on my headlights, turned the wipers on full blast, and pulled away, into the now darkness.

At about 10:00 PM, I watched Marcus pull out of the dealership in his nice sports car.  He waved goodbye to the rather handsome lady going to her car.  I had noticed a ring on his finger earlier, (a rather nice one-coated with diamonds) and gripped the wheel even harder.  I waited ten seconds, and began to tail Marcus home.

As we merged onto the entrance ramp to the freeway, my car had a bit of trouble speeding up.  I lost sight of Marcus, pulled over onto the bridge, and slammed my fist against the horn.  A small toot emerged, and I was even more embarrassed.  However, a car pulled up beside me on the shoulder.  It was Marcus, laughing, his breath fogging up the window.  He rolled his window down.

“Told you, shoulda bought somethin’ worth a shit.  Haha.  Stupid city boy.  Don’t you know a real car when you see one?”  His face knotted up into that sickening grin, and he revved his engine, burned his tires, and went off home.  By now, I was fuming, and had no control over my emotions.  I began beating the wheel mercilessly, smashing my fists against anything in the car.  Soon, the interior was smashed to pieces, and I exited the car in a fury.  I struck my hand through the driver side window as bits of glass spattered all around me.  My hand was a red mess, my mind completely gone.  The rage consumed me, I was so sick of everything.  Again, I heard a car slow down beside me, and could already hear his wheezy laugh. 

“You dumb shit.  Already crashed the damn thing?  Well, can’t say I didn’t warn ya.”  Marcus then revved his engine again, and drove towards me.  I felt a bump against my knees, and before I knew it, was flying in the air.  The bastard had hit me so hard, I was flying.  Well, I would land soon enough. 

The next day, after the ambulance and emergency personnel left, a tow truck was unsuccessful at pulling the small car I had bought that day before.  The small car, smaller than most, would not even budge.  The driver cursed for a few minutes, and left.  I laughed, staring at him.  It is sad, watching people come every now and again lay a cross, or a rose, at the bridge that I lie at.  But I always remember, always tell myself,   when I wake up screaming at the bottom of the lake-I should have gone with a bigger car.