What will become of me?

Sitting here, feeling numb to everything around me.

I can hear the faint explosions in the distance. Giving me a sense of relief I have not felt in a long time.

I look around the room I currently trap myself in. A room once filled with joys and sorrows. A room once filled with companions who would not leave each other's side. Those were the days.

Now it is all gone.

I hear a muffled voice just outside. It's no one important. Everything that was once important is now a fading memory. One that will be lost forever soon.

Not soon enough.

The radio is on the floor against the wall, crushed from the strain I put on it. Still, it certainly wasn't as much as I could've. As much as I should've.

The explosions start to grow louder. Good. Judgement is coming.

Can't wait to get out of this hell.

I look at the radio again. The source of all of this. The reason it is all gone. That piece of shit that told everyone how to think. How to act.

It changed them. It changed me.

The voice outside has stopped. Hopefully they left me to rot in this decaying void. Hopefully they decided it would be better to save themselves than to waste their time trying to pry me from my room.

The window above me is closed, curtains pulled over. Preventing me from either witnessing the horrors, or jumping without a second thought.

I'm not sure which is better.

I haven't spoken to anyone in days. The only interactions I have had are with my own mumblings. It's good enough. I'm the only one who can relate to me.

My phone buzzes. I'm surprised it's still alive as I open it up for a quick escape of this harsh reality. Another warning pops up of the danger I have already perceived. How annoying.

What does that change? What do they hope to save?

Most of the apps are gone. Those are what started this after all. People said things they wouldn't dare say to each other's faces.

I shut the phone off and throw it across the room. A heavy crack can be heard against the wall, I barely react. What was the point? I'm slumped against the wall, waiting for my demise. Hopefully I can feel some peace again.

Peace...

I look to my left at a stack of books. My last hope of peace. I recite the titles of each book in my head, just to pass the time.

Bible, Torah, Quran, The Vedas, Tripitaka...

The thoughts trail off. Down a path of lost hope. There is no savior, there is no second life. There is no karma, there is no hope.

How easy it is to disregard everything else when you believe that there is some higher authority ready to bring you to a place of perfection. Sad, isn't it?

Reality doesn't help much either. Science is a lie, it disproves itself on the regular with each new "discovery". How can I believe something that could quite possible change in the next year?

Fact changes constantly, to the point where everyone is just left with their opinion to replace it with.

Thus, the end of the world begins.

The explosions grow ever louder. With each bang, a memory of a lost friend or of lost trust fills my head.

BOOM! There goes Peter.

BOOM! The government lied again.

BOOM! Gary won't pick up.

BOOM! Bye Mom.

BOOM! It's what I heard on the radio.

BOOM! I hope you find the truth some day...

"AAAAAGGHHHHH!" I yell at the top of my lungs. A flurry of firsts bombard the wall, a lone with one more crack at the radio. Tears fill my eyes as another interaction begins.

"What could I have done...?"

"Nothing, it was all on the radio"

Splinters fly from that wretched box.

"Maybe if I tried to understand them..."

"Unless you believed the same as them, nothing would've changed"

"I could've at least had one..."

"And all the others would be gone"

I pull my legs up to my chest and bury my head in between.

"I should've known..."

"You were too busy"

"Doing what?! Wasting my life away?! Forgetting that I had a future to prepare for?!"

"Holding on to what joy you had left"

"..."

"You did nothing wrong. You did exactly what everyone else would do"

"..."

"..."

CRACK!

The downstairs door must've been broken down. I don't move. I don't even flinch.

Whoever footsteps those are can do anything they want to this house. That's what war does to a person, makes them desperate for anything they can get to survive.

At least...that's what war does to most people. I haven't eaten for as long as I haven't spoken. Betting on whether the explosion or starvation takes me first puts a fun twist on things.

The footsteps rush to the door of my room. They're wasting their time.

there is nothing of any value in this room...

The handle starts to jiggle, I look up. Can't wait to see the look of disappointment on their face.

CRACK!

The door is starting to get beat down. Maybe they're armed? I might have to change my bet.

The explosions grow louder. The cracks against the door get stronger. All the while, I'm just waiting. Waiting for nothing. I curl up again.

The door finally gives way. I'm too tired to look up again.

"I found him!"

That voice sounds familiar...

Moments later I'm being dragged out the door and down the stairs.

Empty bottles of sorrows are littered throughout the house. A symbol of my life I suppose. Empty.

The downstairs area looks pretty clean compared to the hell hole I was living in. At least it looks that way through my blurred vision, the sudden shock of movement was a bit too much.

A couple seconds later and my limp body is out the front door.

Weeks alone in my house have affected me, I could hardly walk. It doesn't matter though, I'm probably being sold away now. I wouldn't blame them for doing so, it's an easy way to gain money during these times. At least I'll go knowing that someone was better off because of my existence.

Then a sharp pain shot through my body, and a loud sound entered my ears.

I roll over, now realizing I'm on the ground. Looking to the east, I see the remnants of what I assume was a building not a few seconds ago.

The explosions are here. My judgement has arrived.

The most recent one must've knocked down my kidnapper. I guess I'm not the only one to be judged.

I start to chuckle.

Then I grow into a laugh.

It's sort of funny. My life was full of laughter, completely oblivious to the happenings of the outside world. Now those happenings I ignored will be my demise.

This is how I go, a man who has nothing to live for after having the grandest of dreams. After falling down because of the small problems, I wouldn't have been able to handle life on my own.

It means nothing now. Everything I did in my life will have no impact on anything. I was unprepared.

"I guess you could've done something..."

"I guess I could've..."

An unimpressive way to say goodbye, but it's the best I can give myself. Makes sense, my last thought would be of regret.

Another shock of sudden movement arrived. I'm being dragged to my captor's car.

He must not be ready to die.

Then I see that my original aggressor is still on the ground. Must've been working with someone, a mistake. Trust won't get you that far in this new reality. Now he's getting left behind.

I'm thrown into the passenger seat of an older looking car. Most I can do is move my head to see the second man helping the first one to the car.

So there is one exception. So what? I'm still not going to last long.

The ground shook. A blast that was like a strong thunder tore through the empty streets. The explosions are ready to take their prey.

The car engine starts and I'm thrown into the back of my seat as the car accelerates away. The explosions must wait another day.

The second man, who is now driving the car, hands me some food. I eat it without a second thought. The first food I've had in days, it's refreshing.

My vision cleared. I'm suddenly able to focus. I look at the driver, now able to make out his facial features. Their voices I can finally fully understand.

It's Gary!

I look behind the seat and see Peter laying down on the back seat.

They came!

"I can't believe you're alive!" Gary said excitedly, "We've been looking everywhere for you and the others!"

I can only muster a nod, shocked by everything that just happened.

"I guess the radio didn't tear us fully apart"

"We'll see"

"At least they still came"

"At least we're alive"

"We have something to live for now"

"Don't let the radio take it away again"

Static coming from the dash starts to clear up.

"Today is day 37 of the Second Civil W--"

That radio never made it past the first stop sign.