Issue #180 : From Up On High
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The sky is dark red tonight. Looks like wine spilled onto the clouds from above and it’s starting to seep down into the world. There’s lightning of course, the storms haven’t stopped, so long that I barely notice anymore. I can’t remember the last time my clothes felt warm or dry. This cold has progressed into a full blown hacking cough and every five or ten minutes I seem to end up on my knees, hacking to catch my breath, spots starting to form from the coughing. Every part of me hurts from the physical strain of it, from my body tensing up.
I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to go on.
It’s not like there’s much reason out there for me to try anyway. Not anymore.
The worst part is that I’m not even sure what happened. It was over a week ago when the storms started, all over the planet. Constant lightning all over the place. I’ve never seen anything like it. I used to love thunderstorms but I’ll be honest, I was scared to leave the house. I watched from my living room when my neighbor across the street was taken down. This thin tendril of light lanced right through her on its way to ground and just left her quivering. I’m not sure if she even knew what hit her. No idea what the hell she had gone outside for in the first place.
We have been overrun.
I don’t know if anyone is ever going to read this. I’m writing on the inside of a cereal box I found in a bathroom.
I’m trying.
On the night it happened, I was at a bar, listening to a friend ranting on about how climate change was causing the storms and we needed to fix things before it was too late. I didn’t really care and frankly, looking back, it’s pretty clear that he was full of shit. It was that moment when the armies jumped through. I know that doesn’t make any sense but the few people I’ve talked to all say the same thing. It was like there was a rip that opened up in the middle of the street, and out of this hole came charging these soldiers. And not a one of them was human. They walked upright on two legs and had two arms but that was about where it ended.
Their skin looked like it was made of electricity. Like a cartoon, in human form. No facial features, just sparks flying all over the place and the only thing I could think was that I had never seen anything that looked so angry before. I don’t know why they came here or what they wanted but I ran the hell out of there.
A lot of people were killed that night. The fact that I’m writing this is proof that I was able to stay clear but it’s just a matter of time before my time is up. No way around it, just have to wait.
I wish I knew more. We got so spoiled as a species when it came to information. Want to know an answer, right now? Just whip out the phone and see what the galaxy of free-floating data has to say. Now I have nothing. I feel lost. The anxiety from losing that resource is astounding. I lived the first thirty or so years of my life not having it, why have I been reduced to such a hopeless pile of shit, now that I don’t?
Not that it matters.
It shouldn’t matter where these things came from. They are bent on destroying the lot of us and I need to try and survive.
But for what?
That’s the question that keeps coming back at me. What am I trying to survive for? Do I really see anything on the other side of this? Does humanity somehow prevail against an enemy that is so powerful and ruthless? I don’t even know if the army is trying to fight these things. I’m out here, walking through bombed out buildings and burned out cars. There are a lot of dead bodies and it’s getting hard not to think that I could be the only person left.
Other than those things.
I can feel them marching. The ground shakes whenever they get near and they’re never really that far away. Just a reminder to me of how little time I have.
But really, how much time do I really want?
I talk to the ghosts of people I loved. I don’t know if they’re really here but for some reason it feels completely normal. But even those conversations are starting to feel stretched out, like they have one foot out the door and are just waiting for me to finish.
Maybe I’ll be done soon.
I have to wait, hope the day comes sooner than later. Because in the end, I’m too much of a fucking coward to do it myself. I have to wait and hope when the time comes, the passing won’t be hard, won’t be too much pain. Just punch my ticket and send me on my way.
Earlier today, I was sitting up above the highway and got to watch while a squad of those things killed every single person in their cars. They blast away with those energy weapons of theirs and the people just blink away, like they had never existed.
Meanwhile, I guess I’ll just keep hoping I can end up getting the same. Sounds kind of nice, actually.
Kiss me off this immortal shit-heap.
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