Prologue
It's something that lives in the back of your mind. It's always there, no matter how hard you try to tell it to fuck off. 'This world is going to end.' It whispers to you. 'You're doomed!' It screams, cackling as it sends you off into a panic attack.
And lately, that's what the T.V. has been saying too. Super volcanoes. What a frightening thought. But lately it hasn't scared me. Lately I haven't felt anything. They're going to erupt. There are maybe 20 safe places on the entire earth, and they're all booked with the smartest people or the most influential people, trying to find someway to survive after the rest of us are dust.
'You're going to die.' It's not a comforting voice, but it's all I have now. A week ago, I would've told you that I don't know where the future would take me. Now I'll ask 'what future?'
This doesn't matter. This journal entry is just going to burn. Just like everything else. I might as well get some sleep. After all, if you're gonna meet God, you might as well be wide awake.
I woke in complete terror. It felt like something was tearing me apart, bit by bit. I couldn't feel my toes. And when I looked down, I couldn't see them, either. What I could see, however, were my feet slowly disappearing, and leaving me in complete agony. It felt like I was slowly being forced into a meat grinder, feet first. I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't speak. It took nearly an hour for it to completely consume me.
And then I couldn't tell if my situation had worsened or bettered. I was floating in a dark void, surrounded by nothingness. I still couldn't breathe. 'Is this the afterli- AAAAAAAGH' My thoughts were cut of by the most agonizing sensation I had ever experienced. Even worse than the meat grinder. There are no words for what it felt like, but I know it was centered completely on my back.
I don't know how long I spent there, in that unbearable pain. It could've been seconds, or it could've been years. All I know is that I passed out long before it was done.