Growing up, I always felt bad for Charlotte. Granted, she's a pretty strange person, but she was like a wild wounded animal that you're not supposed to touch. Let it fend for itself, let nature take its course. Charlotte was always shy, always kept to herself. She had this look about her like she was waiting for the world to end. Maybe she was. Most kids didn't pick on her. Most people just ignore Charlotte. The wounded animal thing, it might be something other people sense too.
Most people didn't know Charlotte very well, including me, but I had the advantage of being her next door neighbor. Maybe that's an advantage or maybe that's not the right word. But I had a sense for the sadness, the terror Charlotte felt because our bedrooms shared an adjacent wall and I would hear her wake up from nightmares, screaming. Other nights, I listened to her cry--weep--late into the night. That was a persistent thing with her. I never knew why.
Actually, I haven't thought about Charlotte much in the past few years. After middle school, her mom sent her to a private Christian school. Smaller classes, more attention from teachers--maybe Charlotte's mom thought that would help. I don't hear Charlotte screaming at night anymore, but I still hear her crying sometimes.
The point is, I don't see Charlotte much anymore except in passing. Sometimes we get back from school at the same time and I see her in the hallway. Sometimes I see her on the bus. She still has that waiting-for-the-world-to-end look.
That's how she looked when she knocked on my door yesterday. I was the only one home, so I answered it and there she was. She looked me straight in the eye and simply said "Luke" in greeting.
I must have looked surprised, but I said, "Hey, Charlotte. What's up?"
Still holding eye contact, she blinked once and said, "You have to come with me now. Before it's too late."
Showing posts with label Dissolved. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dissolved. Show all posts
103
Hello, everyone, this is Scott Hannigan broadcasting from...well, I can't really say where, can I? I'd like to think we're all on the same team, but truth is, there are people against us and they might be picking up this signal.
Most folks are scared with what happened. I'm scared too, so you'll excuse me when I leave out personal details. I've been in radio for a long time--long before the corporations controlled what you heard--so when I came across this radio station after World Union Day (terrible name, by the way), I thought I'd check if it was usable. If you can hear me, that's proof this set up works.
I lived in a small town, and most everybody spread out and left. I don't have any family out in these parts, so I'm on my own. I try not to be out at night too much. Never know if someone's in the dark waiting to jump you. Not that I have anything worth taking. Got the clothes I'm wearing and my boots, that's it. But anyway, I'm rambling. It's not too bad, but it's lonely out here. I'm guess it's lonely for you out there too.
I'm checking the gear here and everything seems to be working, so if there are folks out there with working radios, you should be able to pick up this signal. Like I said, I'm an old radio man, and that means I like the sound of my own voice. I do have something to say if you're listening, though.
They took away our structure from the top down, on a global scale, and that's scary as hell. We don't have any guarantees anymore. We can't have any expectations. Nothing we knew in life is certain anymore. They changed the world for worse, but they didn't change any of us. They can't.
If you're out there and you're listening, I'm asking you to think about all the other people out there--we're all just as scared. We all want to be safe. We all want to wake up last week and realize this was a nightmare. We can't trust the governments to be there for us anymore, but we can trust each other. You're out there and you know I'm here. My voice is your proof. I think you've got to be out there, but I've gotta go on faith. Think about everyone out there going on faith, surviving on hope. That's what we have to do.
Or else, all those leaders we put into office, all those men and women who threw away their responsibilities to leave the world in chaos, they win. They're failures. They don't deserve a victory.
Don't let them ruin the whole world. We get through this, and we win.
Most folks are scared with what happened. I'm scared too, so you'll excuse me when I leave out personal details. I've been in radio for a long time--long before the corporations controlled what you heard--so when I came across this radio station after World Union Day (terrible name, by the way), I thought I'd check if it was usable. If you can hear me, that's proof this set up works.
I lived in a small town, and most everybody spread out and left. I don't have any family out in these parts, so I'm on my own. I try not to be out at night too much. Never know if someone's in the dark waiting to jump you. Not that I have anything worth taking. Got the clothes I'm wearing and my boots, that's it. But anyway, I'm rambling. It's not too bad, but it's lonely out here. I'm guess it's lonely for you out there too.
I'm checking the gear here and everything seems to be working, so if there are folks out there with working radios, you should be able to pick up this signal. Like I said, I'm an old radio man, and that means I like the sound of my own voice. I do have something to say if you're listening, though.
They took away our structure from the top down, on a global scale, and that's scary as hell. We don't have any guarantees anymore. We can't have any expectations. Nothing we knew in life is certain anymore. They changed the world for worse, but they didn't change any of us. They can't.
If you're out there and you're listening, I'm asking you to think about all the other people out there--we're all just as scared. We all want to be safe. We all want to wake up last week and realize this was a nightmare. We can't trust the governments to be there for us anymore, but we can trust each other. You're out there and you know I'm here. My voice is your proof. I think you've got to be out there, but I've gotta go on faith. Think about everyone out there going on faith, surviving on hope. That's what we have to do.
Or else, all those leaders we put into office, all those men and women who threw away their responsibilities to leave the world in chaos, they win. They're failures. They don't deserve a victory.
Don't let them ruin the whole world. We get through this, and we win.
54
Charlotte was in one of her states again when the world twisted and folded into something horrible as it poured into her mind. Voices were shrieks of terror in her ears or whispers of terrible things about to happen. Every person was her enemy. She saw it in the way they looked at her with cautious but confident eyes. Everything became a weapon to be used against her. Her skin tingled in anticipation. Her muscles tensed.
Charlotte walked down the sidewalk and avoided eye contact with every person she passed. If even one of them saw her, they might know. Even the dogs wouldn't look at her. They could sense something was wrong with her, something that couldn't be fixed.
Buses and cars blurred in front of her, each one a threat to her safety. The black and yellow taxi at the corner transformed into a monster in her vision. The hood snapped open to reveal massive jaws. The low rumble of the engine became a roar as it lurched forward to devour her, to make her disappear forever.
Charlotte blinked and the monster was a taxi again. She knew the dangers she saw were hallucinations but when she was experiencing them, they felt too real. The traffic wouldn't harm her and neither would people, but Charlotte could see what was coming and that...that was something to fear.
She turned the corner and walked in the light from the street lamps. Everything was lit here. Street lamps, business signs, and store windows--everything was light except for the darkening sky.
The nightmares were rushing in.
Charlotte walked down the sidewalk and avoided eye contact with every person she passed. If even one of them saw her, they might know. Even the dogs wouldn't look at her. They could sense something was wrong with her, something that couldn't be fixed.
Buses and cars blurred in front of her, each one a threat to her safety. The black and yellow taxi at the corner transformed into a monster in her vision. The hood snapped open to reveal massive jaws. The low rumble of the engine became a roar as it lurched forward to devour her, to make her disappear forever.
Charlotte blinked and the monster was a taxi again. She knew the dangers she saw were hallucinations but when she was experiencing them, they felt too real. The traffic wouldn't harm her and neither would people, but Charlotte could see what was coming and that...that was something to fear.
She turned the corner and walked in the light from the street lamps. Everything was lit here. Street lamps, business signs, and store windows--everything was light except for the darkening sky.
The nightmares were rushing in.
52
I don't know when the world ended. People thought it would be obvious. Nuclear war, a natural disaster--something would mark the end of civilization as we knew it. People thought December 31, 1999 (better known as Y2K) would crash all of our technology because computers couldn't possibly switch their dates from '99 to '00 without total failure. People thought the Mayans predicted the apocalypse when they ended their calendar on December 21, 2012.
But we're still here.
No, the end of the world was not so abrupt. It came quietly, without anyone noticing for a long time what was happening. Word leaders signed agreements behind closed doors. Governments melded until there was one government, until there was no government.
Radiation didn't kill us and the sun didn't black out. The worst death is the one you don't feel, because you don't know you're dead. We were free. We were done.
The day they made the announcement that our trusted leaders dissolved our world's structure started out like most days. Except the day was a little more special for me.
It was my twenty-fifth birthday.
But we're still here.
No, the end of the world was not so abrupt. It came quietly, without anyone noticing for a long time what was happening. Word leaders signed agreements behind closed doors. Governments melded until there was one government, until there was no government.
Radiation didn't kill us and the sun didn't black out. The worst death is the one you don't feel, because you don't know you're dead. We were free. We were done.
The day they made the announcement that our trusted leaders dissolved our world's structure started out like most days. Except the day was a little more special for me.
It was my twenty-fifth birthday.
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