How the Story Ends | Teen Ink

How the Story Ends

January 7, 2010
By Anonymous

My name is Chris Montez; I’m going to tell you about the day we all die. I’m 5’ 6” and 15. I attend the Juilliard School of Music on the West Side of Manhattan in New York City. I live with my parents and my younger brother, Brandon. My house is on Ditmars Boulevard in Queens, New York. It was the only house left that we could afford. Unfortunately, it’s right next to an airport, so the planes can be very annoying. It’s a short Subway ride into the city. I’m planning to stay in the city and continue playing the cello and piano. The only reason that I’m in college at 15 is because I kept my grades extremely high and I devoted my life to the cello. People say that I look like a chipmunk and that I should have picked up basketball, but I never liked sports except for tennis. Every other weekend I would play tennis with my dad. I am Italian, but I was adopted at 7 months old. My birth parents lost their jobs and didn’t want to me to live a bad live of poverty. They put me up for adoption and I was adopted 3 months later by Louis and Ella Montez. Ever since, I’ve been living a great life with them and my brother. The end of the world begins on August 9th, 2014, 7 hours before the beginning of the end.

“Come on!” Some guy in a suit yelled from across the train car. Our subway had just broken down two stops out of Astoria Boulevard. I was going to be late for class for the third time this month. Not good for my permanent record.

“Chris?” I heard someone yell from across the car.

I turned to see Sarah Brown, my stand partner from the Juilliard Orchestra, sitting in an orange colored chair. She stood up and made her way through the people and stood next to me. We sat down next to the door.

“So how are things?” She asked me.

“Good, how about you?” I asked her.

“Well I tried calling Spencer, but apparently, the cell-phone service is down,” She said.

Spencer was the Principal Violist in our orchestra.

“Really?” I asked her as I took out my cell phone. I tried Sarah, but the NO AVAILABLE SERVICE notice popped up on the screen.

“Yup, and guess what, there was a satellite that burst into flames for no reason!” she told me in her WHATS HAPPENING voice.

“That’s not right, was there bad wiring or something?” I asked her.

“Nope, just exploded out of no where,” she sighed.

I was so focused on the conversation Sarah and I were having, I didn’t even realize that the subway had restarted and we were at Grand Central Terminal.

We walked together outside and to a nearby Starbucks.

“I’ll take a Caramel Frappacino,” I told one of the people behind the counter.

“Same here,” I said.

“That’s $12.75,” the guy said.

Sarah pulled out $15 dollars.

“What are you doing?” I asked her.

“Paying for coffee that’s filled with corn syrup” she said to me with a smile.

“Fine, but I’m paying you back,” I said.

We still had a half hour to spare. I wonder how we made it to the city so fast. The clock on the wall said 7:17 am. I took out my phone. Something was strange. My phone clock said 12: 42 pm.

“Sarah, what does your phone clock say?” I asked her.

She took out her phone and read me the time.

“That’s not right, it say 2:13 am,” she said worried.

“Excuse me,” I asked the guy sitting behind me, “Could you tell me the time?”

“Sure,” he said pulling out his phone,” That’s not right; it says 7:19 pm.”

All the clocks were wrong. But why? The TV showing a Live Yankee game started to fuzz. Three letters appeared on the screen.





E. B. T.

“This is an EMERGENCY BROADCAST TRANSMISSION, this is not a test,” a computerized voice boomed from the speakers.

President Obama stood at a podium.

“An object about the size of…” he started to say but the TV turned to snow and shut off. Everything in the store shut down, even all the phones and computers. I looked down to my phone to see a blank screen. I looked out side and saw all the cars and busses stop. People outside stood still in confusion. Sarah and I grabbed our coffee and ran out side.

“None of it starts!” a man inside a taxi yelled.

“What’s happening?” a woman asked.

“Chris what’s happening?” Sarah asked me.

“I have no idea,” I replied to her.

“How can we get out of the city?” she asked.

I started to think about ways we could get out quickly. I needed to get home.

“Well, we’re going to have to take a bridge across, one that’s closest to Queens,” I told her.

She grabbed my arm and we started to walk north towards the 59th Street Bridge. That was the closest bridge to Queens.


* * *

I’m not exactly sure, but I know that it has been a couple of hours. I could see the 59th Street Bridge. As Sarah and I walked across it, we could see the beautiful cityscape of Manhattan. What was going to happen? Why did all the electricity, cars, and busses completely shut down? Screaming, yelling, and shouting could be heard from the city. Would I get to see my family again? I had to see my family at least one more time before anything happened.

“Chris,” Sarah said.

“What?” I asked annoyed at everything that happened, and what I thought was going to happen.

“Look at the sky,” she said looking up.

The sky had become a orange-red color. My family was the most important thing right now. I couldn’t stop thinking about them. I had my house in sight. The small, two-story cottage was covered by trees. I ran up to the door with Sarah. We opened the door and saw… the TV working?

“The TV’s working?” I asked.

“Yeah, they came on about- Chris!” Brandon yelled.

“Chris?” my parents yelled.

“Oh my god, I thought I’d never see you again!” my dad yelled.

“Sarah! Are you okay?” my mom asked.

After saying hello and telling everyone “how worried we were about you”, we went to the basement. I heard a jingling coming from around the corner. In tm was my golden retriever, Maya. I looked out the window and saw a large black mass coming closer and closer to the ground. The six of us huddled in a corner. Even from here, there was a good view of Downtown Manhattan. The object made impact at the Financial Center. It kept penetrating the ground. I felt as if a piece of my soul was just ripped out of me. All those people in that amazing city were being obliterated. The house started to shake. Sarah put her head under my arm. I closed my eyes. Maya whimpered and put her head on my shoulder. The roof of the house blew off and I opened my eyes. The black mass was right overhead. I could now make it out as a rock. A very big rock. I closed my eyes again. There was a rush of superheated air. It didn’t long. My eyes had opened for a split second. Then everything was black. Just black.


The author's comments:
My first short story.

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JHale_44 GOLD said...
on Jan. 20 2010 at 8:27 pm
JHale_44 GOLD, Roseville, Michigan
18 articles 0 photos 44 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Love is a mystery, and a lot of mysteries dont get sloved."

- Ivory Tears

That was good. You should read some of my stuff.