I don't remember much. I had an awful dream and then all of a sudden it ended in a "bang". The "bang" I mention is what awoke me to a pigsty of my room. Odds and ends were scattered about and I felt sick to my stomach. I barely remembered the night before as well. Whatever happened must've totally trashed the house. I got up and I hurled into a huge puddle of bile. It mostly smelled of strong alcohol. Hangover was all I thought. Though whatever happened that fateful night seemed to be a blur, I fit the pieces together that it was a huge party.
I put my slippers on and carefully tiptoed out of my room. The hallway wasn't much better. Confetti covered the entirety of the hardwood floor and there were empty pizza boxes scattered all over the stairs. Empty soda pop and beer cans made deafening crunching sounds as I stepped on the seemingly infinite garbage in the silence.
The silence hadn't occurred much to me until I realised that the birds weren't chirping and I heard no neighbours mowing their lawns. Even the wooshing of cars wasn't present either. To me it just seemed like a chaotic morning and that I had to clean up the mess.
As I walked down the stairs I noticed a little sticky note stuck on the banister:
Thanks for the party, Ricky! I had a blast. Call me please, babe XO
I crumpled the note immediately after reading the name signing off. Peyton was this hot girl at my high school and she dumped 6 guys before flirting with me. I threw the crumpled ball away and proceeded down to the kitchen.
On the counter was another note:
Hey, Ricardo, your father and I are going out to see Grandma. Keep the house tidy. We'll be back in the morning tomorrow.
Great. Not only did I wake up to see the house in a mess, but also I had to clean up before my parents got home. It was odd that they were not in the house yet. I checked the wall clock for the time and it read 11:30. Though the time left 'til my parents would return was unsure, I drank some cold water, got out a broom and swept the upstairs hall. I disposed of the cans and boxes into a large garbage bag I left in the kitchen. When I'd finish, I'd go to the front and throw it into the big can.
I was the done with the entire upstairs just in time for lunch. I opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of ketchup and smeared some on pastrami and put it neatly on a slice of sourdough bread. Not much for a sandwich and the ketchup and meat was warm. I noticed the refrigerator wasn't working. I flicked the light switches, but the power didn't come on.
"For Christ's sake," I muttered to myself.
That was one more thing I had to fix. When I was done cleaning the entire house, I checked the fuse box in case someone from the party flipped the switches off. The switches were on, which struck me as odd. I didn't recall a storm during the party. Maybe there was and my memory loss was the product of the hangover I had. I went outside afterward to throw away the big bag, but something stopped me. There was a thick fog in the air and it nauseated me.
Whatever it was I was scared. I don't wanna sound like a pussy, but I've always been scared of being in the dark and the unknown. To me, the dark is like the unknown and the unknown is like the dark. Both are mysterious and you can't perceive or understand in 'em.
I got a flashlight from a kitchen cabinet and made some dinner. I ate the left over spaghetti by myself. I'd never know that no one would be coming for me.
The Next Day and Those That Followed
I awoke to yet again to the silence. It was unsettling this time and a chill ran down my spine.
"Mom? Dad?" I called out to nobody.
Though I'd be a Senior the next year, I cried. I cried because I was lonely. I needed a companion. The week that followed was of me playing solitaire, typing fervently at the typewriter in my father's study, and reading battered sci-fi paperbacks.
When all the books in my room had been read I moved on to the study. Bronte, Dostoevsky, Hemingway, Joyce, Kipling, Nietzsche, Poe, Thoreau, Tolstoy, Wells. I immersed myself in these worlds and ideas 'til the study, too, was read all the way through. I turned on the television in the living room, but it was static so I inserted some films.
After some weeks I watched all the films as well and so I became bored. I mooched 'round the house. I played pretend and with all the knowledge from the books I read, the house became a battleground. The entire ground floor became a battlefield as Fritz the Teddy became Hitler and the rubber ducky collection my mother owned became the Allies. I then made Fritz the U.S.S.R. and the duckies America.
For a while this was fun. Then the guilt seeped in. What if America had been nuked one day? I'd die and so all my friends and family and nothing'd of us be left soon after that. Civilisation as we know it would be dead all because of us. I put the toys away in a rage. I retired to my bed and succumbed into a fitful sleep.
During another long while, I slowly accepted that what I was going through was a sign that it'd be the end of everything. No phone calls, the lines were down, no one knocking on the door. Nothing. I remember them all. My school mates. Shelby, Nikolas, Deven, Algernon. Shelby was the beautiful one. If it hadn't been the end she'd surly have come over to spend all her time with me. I wondered if these people were still living and if so still remembered me. I thought quite a lot whilst spending many quiet afternoons in my room.
I made many observations alone. After a week I noticed the sun never poked outta the clouds even once though it was the middle of May in Oakland. Even after I lost track of time, the sun never made its presence. The longing for sun made me think more of Shelby. Her hair was red, short, and wavy. She wore lotsa He-Man T-Shirts and jeans shorts. She never wore shoes, but simple pink flip flops. We used to play video games at her house and she'd always win, but I never minded. She always and forever would remind me of the sun.
As my longing for the sun increased to an obsession, my yearning to see Shelby again grew more until I could not bear it no longer. I started to shut myself in the study with all the books, but that didn't help. I started to think more about the silence and the loneliness.
What if nothing matters? What if humans were meant to shut in to silence and emptiness? But then what's the point of mating and such? What is the point of social interaction? All those years for nothing?!
A long time passed and I sat at the typewriter again.
"Hello, again, friend," I said to it.
I began to type about my waking moment alone and then to this point which is now. Whatever that may be. I never bothered opening the curtains. One time, I think yesterday or thereabouts, I whisked them open and I saw nothing. Nothing!
I may be flying through space and time for all I know! Or I may still be sleeping and having a feverish coma like nightmare! But enough of these ramblings, now is whenever now can be. I dunno when then was nor when will be. Now is now and will replace then and will. Already it has done so. I can barely visualise the games I used to play with Shelby, the cards with Niky and Alger, and the cartoon surfing with Dev. None of that matters now. I have already run out of food some now ago, and my stomach feels like it's eating itself and my innards! I could go for a burger just about now...
No. Now is now. The now I am sitting in the study cooped up with all the knowledge I can need for my now, but there is no now for anything else. It has all led up to this and I fear that my now is ending. Some things just don't last forever. Infinity is an illusion created by time as it passes onward. The now I've created is just a period of some time that has passed for who knows how long.
I gotta get it together and do something about this. My time is running short. I can't live like this forever. I'll have to go out and face the world. Wherever or whatever it may be.
I am going outside and that'll be the end of it. I already put on my parka and packed my knapsack for whatever's out there. I don't plan on coming back. I'll do something cliche and cheesy that is to leave this document to whomever finds the house that hath trapped and caged me from goings on or whatever you'd call it. I just think it's the right thing to do in case all this crap's over. I'll find out the truth of what happened and then I am nothing. I'll always be nothing I suppose. I just opened the window and the fog diminished a tad bit, but I can see a bit outside. There's also nothing out there for whatever reason. It's all gone. Maybe it isn't, maybe it's not, but whatever. I'd already probably left. It's probably been centuries or maybe even a day.
None of that makes sense to me anymore anyway, but I am happy. Happy I will face the unknown. Goodbye random person. I hope you made sense of things.