Flashes | Teen Ink

Flashes

August 14, 2008
By Anonymous

I wake up in what I think is dirt. I open my eyes and look around. I see nothing but grey dirt and grey skies. No birds, no sun, just grey. I stand up and walk. I look around for any sign of life. There is nothing. I look back at the dirt and realize it is ash. My mind then flashes back.

I see large balls of fire falling from the sky. It is a fiery orange sky. I am in the middle of a large city, I cannot tell where. I see black dots falling from windows; I realize that they are people. They are jumping, falling what seems to be 100 feet or more. A large ball of fire hits a building. It crumbles to the ground in seconds. I look around me. There are people falling to their knees and screaming and crying. Cars are turned over. Some have crashed into one another, with their owners halfway out of the car, their heads red of blood; they are dead.

There are people running from their buildings and apartments. One man is shooting people from his window in his apartment. People shouting God’s name in vain and begging for mercy. Another man walks into the street. He is shoved as he reaches into his pocket. He takes out a pistol. He looks at me. His face is stained with blood and tears. He puts the gun to his head and pulls the trigger. My mind flashes again.


I am in my house. I can hear news reporters talking viciously about what is happening. I look for my parents. They are downstairs on the couch staring at the T.V. I try to get their attention asking what is going on. I get no response. I walk up to them and shove my mom. Her head tilts down. I looked at the table to see an empty bottle of sleeping pills and wine. I feel nothing, no emotion. The white flash comes back.


I look at my surroundings. I am back in the barren wasteland that is now Earth. I realize what has happened. I feel the ground beneath me begin to quake. An eruption of fire and lava burst from the ash. A large, horned figure jumps out. It is of human form. The eyes are burning. It looks at me and grins.



All that I chose not to believe, everything I do not want to believe, has happened. The worst has happened. It has thousands of names. I call it Armageddon.


The author's comments:
If you've ever heard the song Psychobabble by Alan Parsons Project, this is pretty much it.... It's a dream I was having literally every night, about Armageddon, which I'm particularly paranoid about. Writing it made the dreams stop, but it's still there. Maybe even if one of you read it, it'll loose its power.

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