Seventy 3

All the fears loom over head.

The never slowing nightmares. The everlasting despair. The monster under your child's bed. The resolute blackness that embodies your future. Their future. Our future.

Forever ago I had hope. Every step I took was a marvel and a blessing from my God. I hugged my family with the passion and love that I so eloquently promised. The imperfections of life were below nothing, not even a mere misdemeanor to someone like me. Everything I lived for was a just cause and for not only my benefit, but that of others as well. The amount of opportunities laying in wait and expectation were enormous and many in number. But where has it gone now? I don't sleep anymore: how can you when you know the exact date and time of your death? I trudge along reluctantly,  stumbling after each step. Family has been gone for a long time: maybe seventy days now? They used to love me, and that thought always finds its way into my head. I’ve grown cynical to each situation, whether it be good or bad.  My morals are nothing now that I know for certain they were wrong: why else could this be happening? Everything I did live for is either dead or has left me. I’ve lost my will to live. My will in its entirety.

It started a while ago…perhaps two years now? Whats it matter? No one saw it coming. I’d say everyone was thinking about getting that birthday cake for their kid, or getting a card for their wife’s birthday. Perhaps they were getting a gallon of milk from the grocery store? It doesn’t matter. We all saw it no matter where we were. They just blew it up. Blew the whole damn moon up.

Of course panic followed. Even the police couldn’t control it all. And the crime that ensued in the mass pandemonium certainly didn’t help. Shattered windows paved the streets. Flames lit up the afternoon sky. Screams filled the world.

Every T.V. Station, radio reception and computer got the same message.

“Good afternoon, planet Earth…”

Everything and everyone became still. The world was silent.

“You’ve certainly noticed now that there was a large explosion in the sky…”

Eyes wide in fear.

“This is my doing. I, Hector Fisk, have destroyed the moon…”

Mouths dropped.

“And my next target, of course, is your pitiful planet.”

Three seconds more of silence. Broken by blood curdling scream the entire planet heard.

“Why, you ask? Take a look around you. What do you see? If your answer is human beings: other people, then I have to inform you that you’re wrong. Dead wrong.”

Horrified and twisted faces appeared around me.

“You’re scared, now? Well, you should be. You all deserve this fate. Every last one of you. You’ve all crossed the line. The line between human and animal. There’s no turning  back now. No forgiveness. No regret. Just the end. Three years. That’s how much time you cockroaches have left. Enjoy yourselves.”