It all happened while I was asleep; when the days disappeared. All except for Tuesday. It might sound strange, illogical and crazy, but, I saw it happen.
I looked out my window after not being able to find my family, and listened to the haunting silence of the outside world. No more noisy neighbors–no more aggressive dogs barking–no more roaring cars in the streets. What happened that made this all happen? I thought of waiting to let my mind wrap itself around this situation, thinking maybe this is all in my head.
The second day of the strange day, I woke up to the sound of cold, heavy breathing blowing into my ear. But nothing was there. I was alone, just like yesterday. And that sent my heart racing. My stomach growled like a wild animal, waiting to be fed. Out of all things, my mind turns to food? I lose my appetite the second I walk into the kitchen, greeted by a horrible scent. All the food has gone bad.
Several boring days have passed by. Days that remained the same, where only things around me aged. I was sitting, sitting on a rag of my own filth, tired from holding my eyes open any longer. I was aware of time, and how it no longer cooperated now that it had a mind of its own. It screwed with the TV, which had no working channels. And all because the studios and its crew were dead. You would see them in the static as it hissed hypnotically, sending me into a spiraling wave of madness. I sighed, unable to handle the silence anymore, and anxiously scratch at the scab on my hand. I grew self aware as I begin to notice the world’s rotation slowing down. Hence the missing days. I didn’t even know what to call the ever changing time of the dying sun’s schedule. It skipped, missed, and/or stayed up for too long.
The streets were empty, now visibly full of mountains of rotting carcasses, and smelly unidentifiable objects. The sky is not blue, but a mixture of colors casting a gloomy vibe on what was left. It made my stomach twist and turn, the spiral of madness circulated throughout the entirety of my being. I wished everything was normal, in control of itself instead of falling down into the drain of nothingness. But I was the only one alive, the only one hoping for their time to end. I made a wish on the day that I fell into a coma. A wish that the world was incapable of handling.
I knew that I was stuck, forever trapped inside a house that has no doors or windows. Just an open ceiling with a bodiless head staring down at me. It watched me, monitored me in case I challenged its authority. But I couldn’t handle the numbing silence anymore. It’s pressuring me to do the unthinkable. If only I can move, then I’ll be able to act and actually do something about my life. But I am not in control–Tuesday is. And that was my wish. A wish granted by something we never met before.
