Day 63. Another boring long day full of bull. I stare at the ceiling, unwilling to get out of my bed. What is the meaning of me doing what I’m doing? Is my body even alive? How would I tell? Am I just a conscience made of code? Numbers and commands? Am I an AI, created by someone who decided to give me some backstory that no one will care about? Why am I here if no one else is coming?

I get out of bed and mark on the paper. When I begin my workout, a sudden feeling comes to me, that this will amount to nothing. Exercising doesn’t matter; the body doesn’t change in this world.

Instead I write in my diary all the complaints and thoughts I’ve had so far. I want out, and if I wish hard enough, maybe it will come true. I’ll get out. Someday, sometime, maybe when the world has died and there is no one left. Then I’ll truly be alone. Maybe it’s not engineers working on this world but an AI. Maybe it’s my own mind doing something extraordinary, but if that is why haven’t others appeared yet?

I leave the house and on the sidewalk I stare up at the sky. Please, anyone, if you hear me, let me out. Let me out. Please.

Nothing happens.

Of course nothing happens. What would I have expected? It hasn’t happened yet, and it won’t happen any time soon, or so it appears.

I slam my head against the concrete. That game comes to mind, the dumb ways to die one. If I slam my head against the concrete enough, will I die? Do I have to slam it harder? I sigh. Even if I die, I’ll come back tomorrow as good as new. With my mind going more insane each day, of course.

Turning onto my back, I stare at the clouds. Clouds? They weren’t there before.

A voice seems to call to me. A voice that I know, that I’ve heard, that I...