I thought I'd never live again on the night of December 31st, 2999. My roommate Louise was having a huge New Year's bash in our apartment, which I wasn't opposed to, but I didn't know anyone she invited so I wasn't having the best time. It was only 8pm and people were flooding in already; I couldn't walk across our tiny kitchen without bumping into someone. There were all sorts of people, with ages ranging from what looked like 11 to 99. The majority of people were young, and I found it funny that Louise would invite all these fresh strangers on her 150th new year. This was supposed to be a big celebration with people she had known for a while, like a second birthday party, but apparently she didn’t get the message.
I plopped down on our couch, which already had a beer stain on it. People wearing feather boas and swinging their arms pranced around me like I wasn’t even there. Louise had a terrible music taste, too, and her piercing tunes thumped through the large speaker she had bought at a yard sale seven years ago. I decided now was the time to escape, for she was busy chatting with the group of 11-year-old-looking boys in the corner of the room. I stood up and tried to avoid making contact with other people's’ sweaty skin as I slithered by, which utterly failed. When I finally slipped out the door and stepped outside, the air felt cool and quiet, and I sighed in relief. It was still partly light outside and more and more hovercars were pulling into our huge driveway. I sat down on the porch swing and waved to some people as they walked by, but they ignored me. I sat outside for what seemed like a few minutes, and as the last few cars were pulling in, I glanced at my watch. It was 11:59 pm. I must have fallen asleep.
I stood up quickly and hurried inside. Louise would kill me if I wasn't there for when the clock struck 12 and it would officially be 3000. Everyone was crowding around the TV, and I could see Louise on the other side of the room looking for me worriedly. I tried to push past the people in the way yelling “12. 11. 10. 9. 8.” I was getting claustrophobic and everyone's voices in my ears were not helping.
“7. 6. 5. 4.” I shouldn't have even gone outside. I felt so bad, and Louise felt so bad; we had grown apart so much from college graduation to now and I didn't have the guts to move out and she didn't have the guts to kick me out, so we were still here. The least I could do was stick around for her parties. And the least she could do was pretend I was still her best friend. But neither of us did either of those things.
“3. 2. 1.” The last thing I saw was Louise's terrified face staring right at me, and the next thing I knew I could feel the itchy fabric of a potato sack over my head. Everyone was cheering, and I could faintly hear Louise screaming my name. I struggled and tried to lift the thing off of my head, but whoever was grabbing me was much stronger, and they tied my hands behind my back. They grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me out the door. I didn't scream. I knew no one would hear me. The person knocked me out with something cold and metal, and when I woke up the bag was off of my head. I was standing in a stranger’s house and two men and a woman were surrounding me with long knives and thick dark eyebrows. I was going to say something, but I was so stunned and before I could the woman stepped closer to me and whispered, “shhh. You have no need to say anything. There is no explanation to this besides the fact that you are not loved, you are old, and we are young and hungry.” They all smiled. I started to panic when the door on the other side of the room burst open. Louise walked in, shocked, and said,
“What is wrong with you people?”