November 16th, 1999
Taylor
Dear Friend,
I feel a need to scoff at how people are panicking over the supposed Apocalypse coming when the millennium hits. My mom told me how when she was growing up how people thought the world was gonna end when people were able to marry interracially. People have been predicting the end of days since the beginning of time. I have no need to run away in fear. No need to make a fool out of myself.
No need to go to that snob Sharpay's party.
I don't feel like going to parties that much; I'd much rather binge-watch 21 Jump Street while fantasizing about what I'd like to do to Johnny Depp in those jeans. Yum. And not only that, I got homework to do for Mrs. Snapelli's Biology class. It's supposed to be an essay about the skeletal system and how each bone plays a purpose in the function of the human body. It was supposed to be with a partner, but he's too busy partying with his girlfriend. So, I'm doing work for both people whilst chowing down on take-out.
Chad owes me big-time.
My phone rang. I grab the receiver and ask who it is.
Deep, heavy, breathing.
"Please, if you're going to get your rocks off talking to me, at least respond."
More heavy breathing.
"You do realize I have Caller ID now, right? I can star 69 on you and call back. I can also block you. I can also record your calls and give them to the police and have them come to your door. So, talk."
A click.
Oh, how cute.
I hung up and went downstairs for a snack. Mom went to another one of her meetings and Dad is off shopping for supplies and food. Even he's buying into the hype of the Apocalypse; he's stocking up on First Aid and emergency food and water. As much as I'd love to scoff and roll my eyes, I'm appreciative. It's useful for floods, hurricanes, earthquakes, or any other natural disaster. If not the Apocalypse, at least for something necessary.
I grab the bag of chips and soda and kick back on the couch. I pick up the remote and turn on the television.
"Tom, I'm standing before you to announce that the mayor, Marcel Vintelli, is ready to jump."
I nearly dropped my Coke.
The camera pans to our mayor standing on top of a building. It's the one five blocks down from the school. He looks disheveled and drunk, swaying as he stands on top of the ledge, shouting. He's crying and talking in tongues.
"It's the End of Days! The End of the World as we know it!" He screams.
"I won't die in the Hellfire! Take me, Lord! Take me before the demons of Hell snatch me up from your gracious Kingdom! But the Earth helped the woman, and the Earth opened its mouth and drank up the river which the dragon poured out of his mouth. Revelations, 12:16!"
As I'm sitting there, confused, he jumps.
I watch as his body fall to the ground, blood and guts bursting. I heard the cracks of bone, the organs collapse, the shrieks of everyone in the crowd.
I changed the channel.
"Next up, the end of mankind? A new virus is sweeping the nation, killing men, women, and children as it enters the human system."
Click.
"Computer meltdown; hackers have found a new way to manipulate the airplane controls using only a joystick. It hijacked a plane of 093 and it crashed in Iceland."
Click.
"America may be at war with Syria: Oil prices are slowly climbing and there's some Top Secret conspiracies that may lead to World War III."
Click.
"Cover up; mosquitoes with African viruses are reproducing at an alarming rate and hitting the West Coast. It may be a plague coming."
I turned off the television.
I held onto myself as I feel, for once in my life, scared.
Maybe it could be the End of Days after all.
