“I know what you’re thinking, I would be thinking the same thing.” I said, He looked over at me from his spot on the stool. His expression was hard to gauge. We had moved to the kitchen, now sitting across from each other to talk it out. I’d made some tea for the both of us and then told him everything. Even about what had happened in the office earlier that night with Zedd. That had been especially hard because of the funeral and Devon’s feelings about his friend being gone. Starting with a clean slate meant that I had to be honest, even if it upset him. A great weight lifted from my chest as I spoke each word, glad to have someone to unburden myself to. I was sure of what would come next, it would be something to the effect of ‘I believe that what you experienced was real to you’ or something like it. I remember taking an abnormal psychology class and how real hallucinations were to people that suffered from schizophrenia, both auditory and visual experiences. The real kicker was how both Zedd and I experienced it together. “I was honestly thinking it was me and there was seriously something wrong. It all started when I moved down here so I thought it had something to do with the job and new surroundings. Then Zedd approached me after the meeting,” I paused, “he described to me in detail about the exact things I had experienced. I was at a loss for words.” He nodded but stayed silent. Devon crossed his arms and put a hand against his chin. I could see the internal conflict plainly across his features.

I gave him space, sipping my tea. I looked out across the sparsely decorated space and realized for the first time how that must have looked to anyone. Especially someone with Devon’s income. I had a few things here and there, some dark blue curtains, matching place mats and rug. I hadn’t had a chance to unpack my kitchen ware and decor. Granted, I wasn’t really the sort to have a ton of pictures or knick knacks. My mother loved them, there was every kind of bird you could imagine scattered throughout our home. Flowery prints on every bed and lace curtains. It was something you would imagine to be popular in the 19th century, especially with her antique furniture. I suppose it was her over-zealous nature that made me lean toward modern and utilitarian design choices.

“From the time I’ve gotten to know you, you don’t seem like the type to make up stories. You’ve undoubtedly got talent and in a lot of ways I saw Zedd in both your work and demeanor.” I said nothing, allowing him to talk this out. It was better this way, letting him come to his own conclusions. I’ve found in life it’s best to take a step back, never push, and always be honest. It was never the easy route to take, but it was the one that made me feel true to myself. It’s bitten me in the ass more times than I cared to admit─ but flawed and all, it was me. “I really want to somehow believe that the two of you are crazy, but this seems like too much of a coincidence to ignore.” Devon sighs and rubs his face, “this really is a lot to think about and it’s been a long day.” I nod, “I agree. Did you still want me to come in tomorrow?” I quietly ask. His eyebrows go up, “of course, why wouldn’t I?” I squirm a little but shake my head, “OK I just wasn’t sure, you know─” He places a finger over my mouth and smiles. “Personal feelings aside, we still have a deadline to meet. Whether the end of the world is coming or not. I think the routine would help both of us.” He stands and walks over to me extending his arms. He wraps me in a warm and gentle hug. It felt right being here as if nothing else in the world could shake me and I was invulnerable to harm. I’m completely relieved that tomorrow will start a new day. One that hopefully wouldn’t involve excruciating death or someone coming back from beyond the grave.

He walks me to the door and then he’s gone. I hug myself frowning at the horrors I’d experienced just in these twenty four hours alone. I was going to try and save as many as I could tomorrow, hoping beyond hope people would take me seriously. I would sound like one of those crazy people shouting on the streets, ‘the end is near, it’s coming for you’ or some such nonsense. I knew how mean people could be, and more importantly how they would tear me down and make fun of me. At least I could know the truth and hopefully others would see that.

Four days after today. God help us all.

#

I’m at my desk, for once feeling completely refreshed. I’d slept in until nine-thirty but I had needed it. I texted Devon to let him know that I was on my way and should be there in less than thirty minutes. When I got in there was hot tea, a fruit platter, and a note waiting for me. I felt my face grow warm at the all the attention. A whistle sounded behind me followed by some playful teasing. Since the office was mostly men, I sort of expected it to happen. That didn’t stop me from blushing. The handwriting in the note was lovely, unlike the chicken scratch that was my own. I rarely had to write anything, but I could draw like the best of them. I’d taken pride in my work, but knew where I stood. I wasn't the best of the best, but it was solid. I never thought it would land me something as wonderful as this. Then again, I was never confident with anything I touched.

I smiled at his words, ‘have a great day today, I’ll be out with meetings for most of it but I’m with you in spirit.’

Talk later,

Dev

I folded the piece of paper and placed it back on my desk. I shook my head at his thoughtfulness. He really was perfect.

I worked for several hours, only getting up to stretch and grab some water. The fruit platter had stuck with me for most of the day. He’d really overdone it, I definitely wouldn’t be eating lunch. One of the sound guys approached me to glance over the type of weapons my character would be using so they could get a team on it. After a few minutes of checking it over, he left and I was back to my work. I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave as late as I usually did so I had set an alarm for seven. I’d at least get my eight hours in before the stream. I wasn’t looking forward to people’s comments, but I expected it so I could steel myself against them. I took a sip of water and sat back in my chair. Besides, there was no way that words could affect me as much as these creatures had. Hell, even if I did decide to ride this out until the end at least I would die instantly. I shuddered rubbing my hands along my arms. At least, I wanted to believe that I would die right away. If it was going to go down the way it had in my visions I’d take a stabbing, and a bullet to the head. Even if someone tortured me for days on end it would be a walk in the park by comparison.

I was startled from my dark thoughts when the little jingle from my alarm went off. I grabbed my stylus and pad from the desk to get a little sketching done at home tonight after I addressed the public. I would need something calm and familiar to soothe me. I slid them into my bag heading toward the elevator. I veered off at the last second, deciding that the stairs sounded like a much better option. The elevator and I were beginning to have a complicated relationship. Besides, a little exercise would feel good after all that sitting.

The train ride was uneventful. I had run by the convenience store to grab something quick to eat but that was it for my adventure for the day. I got home shortly after and put some water in the small plastic container. I heated the noodles up in the microwave and sat with the tray of veggies in front of the t.v. I remember what I brought in and set up my pad and stylus on the computer. Just as I sit down the microwave goes off. I shuffle over to it, take my food and sit down in front of the show. My signal was great here, no skipping or loading while I streamed. Hopefully I get the same signal strength when I broadcasted my plea. I allow myself some food and one show. I glance at my webcam throughout it, my anxiety growing. My stomach churns and I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. The credits roll and I stare blankly at them, putting off the inevitable. I peel myself off of the couch moving slower than a child at bedtime. I was so sure of this─ helping other people, that I could do it for the greater good but the truth was I am scared shitless. I’m petrified. Even with what I know it’s hard to convince myself to do it.

I felt ashamed of my thoughts. I knew what all of this meant. I was lucky enough to have a glimpse into the future. It was my responsibility to help. People needed at least a little time to make up their minds. I stand by the desk chair digging my nails into the cushion. Save them, my mind screamed. Do it for them, they deserve to hear it. With shaky hands I slide into my chair and open the recording software. I adjust the webcam for the hundredth time until I’m centered perfectly. I open the website and look at the live stream button. It was now or never. I took in a few deep breaths fighting off the panic as best as I could. I couldn’t come off as some hysterical or overly emotional woman. My mouse hovered over the red dot and then I clicked.

It gave me a countdown and within seconds I was live.

“My name is Katherine Tate. What I’m about to tell you isn’t something that I expect any of you to believe. I’m telling you not because I want attention, or believe in some sort of god or being or that I’m part of some sort of a doomsday cult. I’m just asking for your trust in this matter and to listen to what I have to say.”

My view count has gone from zero to two, three, seven and climbing to a few dozen. I swallow thickly.

“I have a reliable source that’s told me about something horrible that’s coming our way. Something catastrophic. It will decimate every major city in the U.S. I can’t speak for other countries because I don’t have information on that but if I had to guess, I would say that you should beware too.”

I see words popping up and I try my best not to look at them. Just focus on finishing, get out what you have to say and ignore everything else. I knew this was the only way that I could force myself to do it. You can do this, I urge.

“We all hear it from time to time, some nutjob claiming it’s the end of the world. Who knows, maybe my source isn’t as reliable as I thought and we may all be fine. But I couldn’t, in good conscience, stay silent about this. Not after what it would mean for millions of people. For families.” I can feel myself on the brink of tears, but I shove it back down. I can’t get overly emotional, I need to stay strong.

I take a deep breath and release it slowly.

“Even if it is false and nothing comes of this, I just wanted to help in some way. I urge you to get out of the city and save yourself and your family. From what I know it will happen three days from now. Please be safe, please be kind to one another.” I look directly into the camera, “I’m sorry if I scare anyone unnecessarily, that’s not my intention, nor is it to create mass hysteria. I’ll leave you to make your own choices, but I’ve already made mine. Thank you to anyone that’s listening and heard me out.” I pushed the ‘end stream’ button and sagged into my chair. I felt exhausted, like I’d just run a full marathon. What would people think? What would happen to me? Then something else popped in my head that I’d never even thought of. What if I get into trouble for creating mass confusion or hysteria? I think about that for a moment. Hopefully I won’t go to jail for the next two days. My stomach twisted as I thought about the way it would end for me. Please let it not hurt.

My biggest fear is that I will do all this for nothing, nothing will happen and I’ll die. The worst part would be what my family would have to suffer because of what I will be labeled. My poor family. I try and reason with myself that it will have been worth it. Even if the world didn’t explode into fire and ash, would these things continue to torture me in new and horrible ways? That was no life to live. I would eventually be committed to some psychiatric hospital, lose my job and family. To lose all that and still live in constant fear─ dying over and over again for as long as they feel like wasn’t going to happen. I would make sure of it.