I WAS GOD ONCE

OCTOBER 9, 9:37 PM, 3 DAYS REMAINING

He woke to the sound of the television blaring, static hissing and spitting. Edward jolted upright, gasping. His sleep had been dreamless and dark. Scrambling, he threw the blanket off of him and stumbled from the couch. The remote- he shoved an empty can from the coffee table and two magazines as his eyes struggled to adjust, searching for the remote. The television that sat on the entertainment center was an ugly, bulky panasonic thing that he had found at a thrift shop, two years back. Mary had told him once he had no excuse owning a shitty thing like that, when plasmas could be found under $200. He couldn't agree more.

In between bursts of static, the screen flickered between scenes of the seven channels he owned. Glimpses of soap operas and the news and late night forensics shows. Edward still searched.

"Edward-" Came a voice, in the static, which was grating on his ears almost unbearably. The nauseas had passed, the sweating, too, but the headache lingered. "I am..... sorry for waking you-" It was hardly clear, among the sound of tv reports and cop shows, a young boy's voice. Like the one within his head. Edward tensed, instantly. He looked up. There was only the black and white fuzz of static now. "... I..... could not think of-..... any other way to wa-...ke you," It said. "I am sorry.... This is..... So loud..... How do you feel...?"

Edward stared and was silent. Then he put his hand over his face and dragged it, scrubbing as though to wipe the sleep, the pain, and confusion away. He sat back, against the couch.

"You're still...." He dug fingertips into his closed eyes, rubbing. He dropped his hands into his lap.

"I am still here."

"What... Time is it?" He asked, reaching for his phone, still crammed into his back pocket.

"It is.... Nine... fourty, pm, now..."
Edward jerked his gaze to the television.

"I- that's- that's nine fucking hours! Almost ten!" He cried, startled. He hadn't slept that long in... Who knew how long. His nights were spent waking up two or three times, or hardly falling asleep at all. Six hours was a rare blessing.

"You were.... Un...Well... I felt you wou...ld need plenty of... Rest..."

"You did that?" He asked, unbelieving. This entire situation was unbelieving. He still felt somewhere deep within himself that he was asleep, perhaps in the ER somewhere. Maybe he had crashed on his way to the gas station that morning and was lying in a coma in some hospital.

"Yes." Answered Adam, gently. Edward rubbed his face again. The tv's volume did not let up. It hissed, loudly.

"My ears are ringing."

"I apologize...." Said Adam between bursts of static. "I can only... Speak through this."
Edward turned and saw the remote upon the couches back. He reached and grabbed it, turning the volume from 50 to 15.

"Is that better...?"

"No." Edward lied, setting the remote onto the coffee table. "What do you want from me?"

"I am... S-orry for contacting... You. It is difficult... To be.... Chosen, for someth-ing.... Like this...."

"Chosen for what? Answer my question."

"I... want... Your hel..p.... You are.... The only one I could contact...."

"Why?" Edward almost glared.

"To be tru...thful.... I do not think... There is a re...ason." Edward groaned. "I am sorry. I did not... Meant to...Drag you into anything-"