Dead World

Starting my day in a panic was always the worst. Little did I know how bad my day would be when I woke that stifling morning in June.

I rolled over in bed and opened my eyes to darkness. The blackout curtains helped keep the sun's rays from penetrating my room. I was greeted by the horrible sight of flashing lights on my alarm clock, which made me shout obscenities. I shot straight up in bed, immediately grabbing my cell phone to check the time. Do I need to rush to be only slightly late for work, or am I already screwed? Do I even have time for a much needed cup of coffee? The digital clock on my cell phone revealed all zeros instead of the time.

I sprung out of bed. "What the hell is going on?"

Irritated at whatever devil had cursed me to this kind of hell, I stomped off to the kitchen for my morning fix. More numbers flashed at me from all over the room. My coffee maker, microwave, and the stove all mocked me. At least the power was back on and I could actually have a cup of coffee. People could be seriously injured, potentially resulting in death, if they were forced to face me decaffeinated. I popped a K-cup into the machine and waited. Even with the reduced time to make a single serving, I impatiently drummed my fingers on the edge of the counter. Patience is not my strongest virtue. Someone needed to invent a coffee maker that started brewing when I began thinking about coffee from the comfort of my bed. All would be right in the world that much sooner if a freshly brewed cup was waiting for me each morning.

I sat down at the kitchen table with my tablet to scroll through my Facebook feed and check my emails, but when I logged on I found something strange. Nothing had been updated in eight hours. No emails had come through, and no new posts had been made. I'd read all of the posts before I went to bed, so it couldn't have been later than seven AM. It was dark and cloudy outside, which made it difficult to tell the time by looking out the window. I tried refreshing the page, resetting my cable modem, and anything else I thought would force something new to show up. My efforts were in vain. I checked other sites as well, but found the same results on every page. The most recent updates showed the same tag under each status: posted eight hours ago.

I walked into the living room, the bottom of my red fuzzy slippers scraping across the dark kitchen tile as I went, and flopped into the tan recliner with my cup of coffee. With the remote in hand, I flipped through the TV stations to find static on every one.

"What the heck!" I shouted at my television set, as if it was responsible.

I went outside to see if my neighbors were out searching for answers as well. The wind ripped the screen door from my hand and slammed it into the side of the house. I pulled my robe tighter around me. The air was warm, as it usually was in June, but I felt chilled for some reason.

My two-story house sat in the middle of the block. I scanned the area but didn't see anyone outside. Everything appeared normal. My neighbors' cars were all parked in their respective driveways. Bubble mowers, brightly colored big wheels, and an assortment of other children's toys were scattered across their yards. I realized something after a moment; none of the cars had moved. Cars that should've been on the road were still tucked into their spots from the night before. There was no traffic, no dogs barking, no lawn mowers humming, and no children frolicking around annoying me with their high-pitched squeals. I'm not the biggest fan of kids, which is why I'm still single at thirty and not reproducing pint-sized monsters that reflect everything I hated about my own childhood.Other than the gusts of wind, nothing outside moved.

I shook my head. "Something ain't right."

I was in close proximity to Detroit so there was always noise, even in the middle of the night. If it wasn't the constant din from the commuting vehicles on the nearby interstate, then it was coming from the airplanes that made their way to and from Metro Airport every few minutes. There was nothing; not a bee buzzing, a fly to swat, or a squirrel scurrying up a nearby tree.