In the End

chapter 1

The end is inevitable. I know it, everyone knows it. The thing is, no one knows when it will happen. But, let me tell you, it shouldn't be this way.

When I woke up in the middle of the desert, I obviously knew something was wrong. Who wouldn't? My clothes were completely clean, but I had a Band-Aid over what looked like an IV insertion point on my wrist. I had a killer headache and had no idea what was happening. I mean, who would? 

I slowly stood up and brushed myself off. "First things first. What the fuck?" I knew that something was off because if I had just wandered into the desert drunk as a dumptruck, and hit my head or something, which caused me to not remember, my clothes would be dirty. So why were they clean? It was as if someone had just driven out to the middle of the desert just to dump me here. So, what was happening, where was I, and most importantly: why?

I knew that nothing could be done to help me if I just stood around like a drooling idiot, which, at that time, I more than likely was. So, in the situation I was in, I did as anyone else would have done. I walked. For a long time. It felt like weeks, but it was probably only about 5 hours before I came upon a little diner/gas station on a highway at sunset. The place wasn't packed, but there was a fair amount of people in the little diner, filling up on food and gas before it got dark out.

I made sure to check my pockets to see if I had any money for food because God knew I was starving. When I found two twenties in the pockets of my jeans, I finally decided that something was very wrong. Sure, I could have somehow wandered into the desert from L.A. while drunk without managing to get dirty, but since when did I carry cash around, drunk or not?

I decided to shrug it off for the moment. I was extremely hungry and dehydrated, so I just walked inside the haven of food and sat down at a corner booth. Within five minutes I had ordered my food and was waiting for my drink. I looked around and saw happy little families with small children enjoying their meal, older men who ate alone, and a few couples having a date.

I smiled in spite of my situation. These people were happy. I looked to my right and saw a mother and her young daughter working together on one of those restaurant crossword puzzles. The girl couldn't have been more than six. Together, they reminded me of my childhood. No father, just my mom and I. She may not have had it easy all the time, but she made sure that I lived comfortably. She spent her whole life trying to make sure that I could grow up to have a good life. Because of her, I went to college, where I was at the moment studying for my Bachelor's Degree in Biology. 

Until her last breath, my mother made sure that I was happy. The worst thing that ever happened to me, besides the moment in question I am describing, was when my mother died. When I was sixteen, she was diagnosed with Stage Three Pancreatic Cancer. On my eighteenth birthday, my mom passed away. Because I was legally an adult, I had to live on my own. 

Anywho, seeing the two happily enjoying their meal together made me smile. I turned my eyes and saw that the waitress was bringing my Coke over, and my mouth started watering. "Good God, Eve. When was the last time you ate?"  I asked myself, not really sure of the answer. I didn't even know the date. 

Before my waitress handed me my drink, I decided to ask her something. "Sorry for the stupid question, but do you happen to know the date? I had one hell of a night if you know what I mean." 

The girl, Kylie, according to her nametag, didn't even bat an (false, if I may add) eyelash. "Oh, I totally get what you mean. It's the 24th," she responded, smiling just a bit.

"Of March?" I asked, already surprised. The last day I remember, it was the 17th. St. Patrick's Day.

Kylie gave me an odd look. "No, it's the 24th of April. How stoned were you last night?" she asked, giggling. 

At that moment, I really started to freak out. I was gone for over a month. What the hell happened in that time? "I dunno, but I must have done more than just weed," I said, trying not to hyperventilate. "Anywho, the Coke?" I asked, just needing to consume something so that I didn't pass out. 

"Oh, right," she said and started to hand me my drink. At that moment, I reached out for the glass, and that's when things got bad.

My palm outstretched, I reached for the glass. Instead of me just taking hold of the glass, a blinding white light burst out of my hand, and everything was engulfed in said brightness. I closed my eyes, having no clue what the fuck was happening. When I opened them, Kylie was no longer standing in front of me. For a moment, I thought she had just disappeared.

Then I looked down. Kylie was in a heap on the floor, blood pouring out of her nose. I let loose a blood-curdling scream and immediately dropped to the floor, looking for any sign that the girl was alive. She wasn't breathing, and there was no pulse. At that point, I realized that I had killed her. I didn't know how, but I did.

I honestly think I was just too shocked to even worry. I stood up and looked around the little diner. Every single person besides me that was in the vicinity was dead at their table, dark, red blood pooling on the marble in front of them, coming from their noses. My god, even the little girl was dead. She couldn't have been more than six. Every child that was in that diner had met the same fate as their parents, and it was all due to me. I had no idea how, or why, but I knew that my disappearance had something to do with it.

As I walked out of that diner, empty inside, knowing that I had just killed over a dozen people, I had one thing in mind:

Whoever turned me into this monster is going to get it. I am going to find them, and they will pay for this.