My last Monday 

            Today is my last Monday. Isn't it funny how the world chose Monday to be the day of all days the world would end, the day that nobody likes? I was watching some Football on my TV when I saw it. The U.S. government sent out an emergency broadcast that a nuke from an unknown origin was heading straight towards my area. They said to find shelter and to try and get as far from the blasting zone as possible. But instead here I am, sitting in my house, writing in this journal hoping someone will find it once I’m gone. I could try and find a bunker that would theoretically save my life but what’s the point. All those bunkers would get so crowded with people trying to save themselves that they would all starve themselves to death. I don’t know about you but I’d rather die quickly and painlessly than starve to death. As far as I can tell I’m the only one in town who had these thoughts, because when I look out the window it’s like a ghost town. It’s strange that if I never got that emergency alert, I and nobody else would have any idea what was about to come. It would be just like any normal day, and if I’m honest I kind of wish it went down that way instead. When you look up you can’t even tell what’s about to happen. To any normal person it would probably look like a shooting star flying by, that is until you realize it’s coming straight at you with no means of escape. 

            I close the journal I had been writing in and start to walk to my front door. Once I do, I exit my house, making sure to close the door behind me. After that I begin to stroll down the street towards the town square, beams of sunlight shining down on me whilst I do so. Building after building I make progress towards the center of town, and when I turn the corner I see it. A bronze green statue in the center of the buildings  surrounded by pathways, trees and grass. I walk up to the statue and put my journal down onto its base making sure it is secure. I look up again and I can see the missile hurtling right towards me at a rapid pace. I sit down on the statue’s base next to my journal, knowing my time has come and I will finally not have to ask the question all other humans ask time and time again: “when will I die”? Then at that moment the sky turned a pale white, the ground shook, splitting into two, and the air around me turned to dust and fire as the nuke finally landed on American soil.