The Year 4000

   I hunched in front of my TV, watching the news. The counter was slowly ticking down to zero, a crowd of people gathered around Big Ben. The timer in the corner was at 00:05:19. Five more minutes.

   The year was 3999, but not in five minutes it wouldn't be. The timer was ticking down the minutes to the new year, and as the timer got closer and closer to the deadline, the crowd of people got louder and louder. I looked at my shoes in the dim room, thinking. I was barely 16, and it was already here. My family was out somewhere in that crowd, but I chose to stay home. I had my reasons.

   I thought about my short life and how it could be ended in a mere four minutes now. The year 4000 represented the 666th anniversary of my dead relative, who was a strong believer in life after death on earth. I figited my thumbs, waiting as the time ticked by slowly. There were many end of the world warnings before, I was sure, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that something was special about this one. The number 666, the millenium, the fact that there was no moon out. I sighed and straightened up, fixing my eyes on the TV again. Why hadn't we moved away from England? I was frightened that something might happen in the cemetary that was near, the cemetary in which my relative was buired in.

   The TV shined in the dark room as the counter reached 2 minutes. The clouds started rumbling quietly as a drizzle started, and many people in the crowd opened up umbrellas. There would be a storm tonight, which only added to the number of reasons I was nervous. The clouds rumbled as a short flash hit somewhere in the distance, and I swallowed nervously as the timer got down to mere seconds.

   Big Ben chimed and the crowd gave out a roar, some throwing their umbrellas in the air. I got up and clicked off my TV, sighing. I grabbed my umbrella, coat and shoes and walked outside, flaring my umbrella. I walked in the shining streets, sparkling with rain as the drops splashed onto the sidewalk. The rain was getting harder, and most people were heading home already. I spent a couple minutes walking over to my destination; the graveyard.

   My hand wrapped around the slippery, cold metal gate and I pushed it open. The gate gave a small creak and opened heavily. I walked inside and pushed the door closed a bit, accidentally pushing it all the way. The door didn't have a lock on it, so I wasn't too worried. I walked down the muddy road and saw, in the distance, a single tree. Using that tree I located the grave I was looking for.

   LIghtning flashed behind me and I turned around, not expecting the sudden brightness. The night sky was dark with clouds, moonless. The rain quietly pattered on my umbrella, drumming an unsteady beat. My shoes squished in the mud as I walked over to the grave, off the trail. The water was already leaking into them, but it didn't matter much to me. There wasn't much snow on the ground for January, not this year. I kneeled down as the lightning struck again, letting me read the carving of the grave I was at. It was the right one.

          Edward Norton

          3250-3334

          Age 84

   I stared at the grave. He had been a strange man, and didn't want an engraving to his grave. He wasn't a sociable man, from what I'd heard from my parents. I felt the ground near his grave and found it hard and untouched. I felt silly as to think that something would happen, but I still couldn't shake the feeling. I got up and turned around, walking away from the grave. Fog had started to settle down, the rain still drumming on my umbrella.

   I came back a couple minutes later with a shovel in my hand. I had to know whether or not he was still there. It seemed unbelieveable that he wouldn't be, but most likely, he was still inside and I was just being paranoid. I stuck the shovel into the ground and found it softer than before. Was it just my imagination? I furrowed my brow and tried to dig out the coffin. My umbrella was between my arm and chest, and it was actually quite bothersome. I took my umbrella and set it beside me, letting the now heavy rain drip down my forehead. I dug for a few minutes while the rain pounded on me. I took off my jacket, sweating now from digging. I felt like a graverobber, but my curiosity had to be satisfied. Rain wet my shirt as I dug, now completely soaked. My jeans were darkened and heavy, and my shirt was now sticking to my stomach. I dug until I felt a hard thing hit the spade of my shovel and felt bitter satisfaction. I dug around it and, instead of heaving it out, I left it in the grave. I fiddled around with the hatch and threw it open. Inside was a sight that made me flinch back.