《The Sphere》Chapter 1: A Normal Day
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"Do it, Amelia. It is the only way the land of Elestia will ever be free," said the giant rainbow frog.
I turned around, and looked at the far-off tower, shadows coiling around it like tentacles, then down at the sword in my hands.
"It is the only way we will ever truly beat Cyclotron, my child," said the frog, this time with my father's voice coming from its quite misshapen mouth.
"you need to -"
The frog was interrupted by the reality it was currently residing in disappearing in a flash as the alarm clock on my bedside table started blaring. Groggily, I turned over toward it, and slapped the big red button on its topside with a swinging backhand, thereby condemning the clock to another day of slumber.
After about half a minute of internal debate, I lifted myself out of bed while releasing a groan that would have told anyone listening just what I thought of having to wake up at 6:15 in the morning, and went to the closet, intent on finding something that could be worn - and loosely interpreted as "stylish". I eventually settled on a red T-shirt, and normal blue jeans.
Then, I went to the Bathroom, brushed my teeth and hair, and went to the kitchen for breakfast. I got a pack of knockoff cornflakes imaginatively named "Fruit Loupes™", put them and some almond milk into a bowl, and sat down to eat. While eating, I took some time to look up from my phone, which had a crack in it that I should probably get fixed soon, and reflected on the sorry state of my kitchen. The floor could use a wipe, the oven was pretty much opaque, and I quickly looked away from the fragile tower in the sink, afraid of the quantum effect of my percieving it causing a catastrophic avalanche of porcelain.
I really have to clean this place up, I thought. It's a miracle there aren't any roaches.
It wasn't actually that bad - but as most know, the tired mind can be pessimistic; especially when freshly ripped from the sweet embrace of sleep.
Eventually I couldn't procastinate any longer, grabbed my keys, wallet and leather jacket, and closed the door with a sigh, plugging in my earphones while stepping on the street.
***
New York traffic is always a beast. It is because of this, and definitely not my almost-poverty, that I decided to walk to my place of employment today.
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As Bee Gees started singing the sweet melodies of Stayin' Alive into my ears, I began to dance my way through the masses of people also travelling to the place they serve their daily sentence at. I spotted businessmen in dusty suits, looking even more tired than myself, a few teens on skateboards (skateboards? who the hell uses skateboards in the 21st century?) rolling by, a gaggle of middle-aged ladies talking amongst themselves and a million other people, all doing the exact same thing I was: Going to voluntary time-wasting to feed the capitalistic machine. Some would say that medical school isn't exactly "feeding the capitalistic machine", but I and my textbooks would like to disagree.
It was in the second chorus, as Barry Gibb was singing about cities breaking, that I began to feel something strange. It was a feeling like no other I had felt so far in my life. It was as if I had suddenly become aware of the exact borders of my conscious, right out of the blue. I stopped, a dumb look blatant on my face. Who knew the human mind had such clearly defined limits?
"What in the fuck!" exclaimed the man next to me, a 20-something looking guy with glasses. That seemed to break the proverbial ice, because a lot of other people began to speak.
"What the heck is going on?" - a mother, cradling her baby in her arms.
"By the Lord!" - an almost stereotypical nun fell to her knees in sudden prayer.
A few other choice statements were made, phones were drawn and readied, the whole street seemed electric.
At this point I still had my headphones in, almost forgotten, when in the middle of "Life's going nowehere" I heard a deafening crackle, drowning out the music. I ripped out the cables, but the sound persisted, growing in intensity. I fell to the ground, in vain trying to cover up my ears, trying to stop the noise. It was a pain more extreme than I had ever felt - it was as if my conscious mind was being peeled back, layer by layer. The noise persisted until I fell into merciful unconsciousness, the world and the sound swallowed by darkness.
***
I awoke with a start, my face to the pavement.
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This was strange, as I was not exactly known for sleeping on solid ground, much less pavement, which confused me for a moment.
Then I remembered; the noise, the screaming, the people, the nun, it all came back to me in a rush that startled me even more than waking up on the cold ground had.
I heaved myself up using my arms, pushed my hair out of my face, and looked around.
There was noone around me. No sign of all the people there previously, no sign of the typical NYC traffic, nothing moving at all. Cars standing in the middle of the street, bikes and motorcycles strewn about, some damaged quite severely. I checked my phone, looking for answers; looking for anything - but found only the time. 11:24 am. I had been lying on the cold, hard ground for close to 4 and a half hours, and noone had called an ambulance, or the police, or anyone. I quickly checked my wallet, which was present and accounted for. No pickpockets either.
Figuring higher ground would be a vantage point, I quickly looked around to check for people, and climbed on a nearby car, hoping to spy just what had caused me to be left alone in a public street for four hours, a street which was apparently now closed.
As I stood there, on the roof of the car, I became aware of just how silent it was. The city of New York is never silent. There's always someone shouting, or a siren, or the ever-present rumble of cars on pavement if nothing else. But now, it was almost completely still, the only sound coming from the wind whistling along the towering skyscrapers above. I stood there for a moment, listening into the nothing, hoping to perhaps pick up the whisper of a voice, the woosh of a car, or hell, the bang of a gunshot.
No luck. The city had fallen completely silent. It was as if every single human being had suddenly and inexplicably left - leaving only myself behind. I climbed down from the car and leaned on it, contemplating what this could mean.
Was there a missile threat? Did I get left behind? The rapture maybe? I saw that one weird christian movie once, but in that one piles of clothing and stuff were left behind, here, it was just nothing. No sign of anyone. I've never been very religious, not full-on atheistic either, but I couldn't believe that in the rapture, only I would be left behind.
No. there had to be an explanation for it. So I did what I always did when I had an unexplainable question, I opened my phone and searched the internet. Tornado warnings, flood warnings, WWIII? I found nothing. So I did the second thing I do when I have a question and can't answer it, I phoned my mum. We were never really close, she left me alone a lot and became withdrawn when I was a teenager, but after a few years of resentment, I realized that she was always away because she was working to support me and her, not because she disliked me or didn't love me. She did love me - in her own way.
Nevertheless, there was no response to my call. I rung some other people, coworkers mostly, and even my boss; but I only ever got voicemail.
During all of this, I had begun walking home through the streets devoid of humans, and as I noticed, any life at all, and eventually arrived back at my apartment. I hung up my jacket, went to the PC, and wrote a post on Twitter about it, asking where everyone was.
I stayed in that day, waiting for responses, for activity on the net, for calls or emails or messages on my phone, but i got nothing. I went to bed quite uneasy that night.
***
The next morning, after checking my post on the internet and seeing zero likes and zero responses, I stepped outside and was greeted by silence once more. The last shred of hope that still existed, that still said "it'll be okay! They can't all be gone." fell away, and I almost had a full-blown panic attack right then and there.
The silence beckoned it, the internet confirmed it, and the silence once more reinforced it.
I was, in the truest sense of the word, alone.
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