Running. Out of breath. Burning in my lungs. I stop by an old dead tree to catch my breath. I look up to find nothing but black skies, while the lightning crackles overhead. It’s everywhere. When the lightning flashed again, I was up and running. All of this began to feel like a blur. Time had slowed down to a crawl as if it had no meaning. I suddenly trip on a burning root of a tree. I fell and bashed my head off a rock so hard I started seeing stars. At first, I thought I was hearing things. But as soon as my head cleared, I realized it was a girl’s terrified screams. Suddenly, another crash of lightning hits a tree, causing it to catch flames and fall. I muster all of my strength, which isn’t much at this point, and I race towards the voice. All I hear are the girl’s terrified screams off to the left. Stumbling, trying to find her, I snag myself and slit my arm on a sharp branch. I stop to wrap my wounds and then race off to find her. More screams. More terrible agony. That is, until I find her, stuck underneath a tree and other debris. Her face is covered with caked on blood, sweat, and leaves. Tears are streaking down her face. “Help! Help me out! Please, don’t let it get me!” she screams at the top of her lungs. At first, I don’t understand one bit of what she is saying until I see the solid wall of fire coming straight for us.

It was coming towards us in a fluid motion, almost as if it was made of water. As it passed over the wasteland, I saw it engulf everything in its path. It’s, frankly, bigger than Noah’s Ark. It was huge. In a matter of minutes, it would be upon us. I was sprinting to get her out from underneath the rubble, struggling underneath the debris. Almost there, just a couple more rocks, I think to myself. But as I was dragging her out from underneath the rubble, the ground split open and gave way. “OH S***!” I scream as I fall with her into nothing but black, nothingness.

Bzzzt,bzzzt,bzzzt. I pound on my alarm clock until it shuts off. “Ugh, Mondays” I say as I walk to get my clothes for school. I’m definitely NOT a morning OR a Monday person. I’m also not the preppy type, so the first thing I grab is the thing I wear for the day. Today, it’s black shirt, black pants, and my black hand-me-down Nikes. As I put on my shoes after I embarrassingly tied the laces together, I head down to breakfast to get some toast for school. Suddenly, there’s a vibration in my pants. Get your head out of the gutter; it’s just my cell phone. As it happened to be, it was my friend, Kendra Mayrite. “Chem. Test l8r 2day. Don’t 4get!” the text said. On some days, she’s a total smart ass but at times like these, she’s a good friend to have around. She’s the type where she can help you or make your life a living hell. Good thing I’m on her good side. “THX, Ur the best, say hi 2 D 4 me” I text back. If you are wondering about who “D” is, his name is Derik Lyon, who is Kendra’s boyfriend. He’s the quarterback for my school’s team the West Hill Colts. Kendra says he’s her little ducky. Little? HA that’s funny. He’s bigger than me and her combined. Anyway, I finish my breakfast and head off to school. I live within walking distance of West Hill High but it still takes me about 35 minutes to get there. Since we now have time, let me start by describing myself. The name is Chris Cayman. I’m slightly obese and about 5’ 11”. I wear glasses and, in a nutshell, I’m a nerd. I like computers and comics. What’s wrong with that? Now for info ‘bout my friend Kendra. She’s a curly blonde and, obviously, she has her moments. I hate to say it but she’s also the most creative person I’ve known. I’ll give her that to make up for her being a smart ass. She’s a talented writer. Ok. By now, I’m at school just as the breakfast bell rings. From there, I run to my locker, cram everything into it, and head off to the classroom table I sit at with Derik and Kendra.
1st period is my favorite class of the day. It’s called Contemporary American Thought or CAT class. It’s sort of like debate class with suggestive and tender topics. Today’s topic, Mary Jane. Not the girl kind, the pot you smoke kind. The “woo hoo smoke this s***” drug. I really don’t hold a position on this subject, but if you would ask me, I would say go for it. Make it legalized for medical purposes. Right at this very moment, Kendra’s up at the podium debating with some guy I barely know. He goes by the name of Mitch Bailey. He’s sort of like me in a way, the way he likes computers and stuff like that. He is a real know-it-all though. Kendra and him, I swear, have been archenemies since the 2nd grade. Well anyways, he losses the debate to Kendra and is sent back to his seat. Mrs. Greyback shouts “Derik and Chris, to your podiums!” She’s the teacher. Well duh! She’s short, blonde, and the nicest person you will ever meet. That doesn’t mean you can skip out on doing your homework. But, today I moan as I start for the podium. “Today’s topic, GUNS!” Great. I have to argue to a guy about guns that own about thirty of them and can shoot me in the face from 100 yards away! Derik is up first to the podium. And, as luck would have it, he gets away with being the positive side of this argument while I’m stuck with the negative side. After another ten minutes, he raps up his speech with the ever-so-corny phrase “Guns don’t kill people, bullets and people who use them kill people.” He then slowly walks back to his seat, feeling as though he has already won. Yeah, that may be true, but I’m going to give him a run for his money. As I was walking to the podium I stop. I got a queasy, sick feeling going on in my gut. It then passed. I figured it was just my nerves getting to me, so I continue for the podium. Finally I reach it and start the negative debate. “Guns are used in many cases, such as hunting and millenarian uses. But they are being abused. How many neighborhoods do you know of that uses them for drive…” I then get the feeling back. Only its magnified 100 times over. It was literally like an explosion of nausea that has attacked me. Right after that I double over. Then I feel nothing. Everything begins to slip away. The room begins to blur. Everything blurs until it’s a mass of swirling colors. Then I get the feeling of floating as things begin to clear up. Finally, as this crazy merry-go-round stops, I throw up for about 10 minutes straight. “My god, what the hell happened?” I say to myself. I start to look up as a sound blares behind me. The sound, as I had come to see, had come from a bank the looked strangely like the bank in downtown Cincinnati. Just then, a guy in tights runs out of the bank with 2 great big bags of cash as another person in en route. I must have hit my head because I thought the first guy had a flaming skull and a wicked looking bow and arrow. The other guy looked just like Mitch, only in red and yellow tights with more muscles and a deeper voice. “Get back here!” Mitch had said but the other guy was about 5 meters away from him. I must be dreaming. How in the HELL could this be real. I think back to before school and say to myself “Did I OD on that Advil before CAT class?” this may have been a dream but I still had my definition of right and wrong so I ran after the skull dude. Once I got close to him, I shouted”Hey, Death called. He wants his skull back!” Unfortunately, it worked.
“Who dares speak to me in that manner?” skull dude said. He spoke as if his vocal cords were on fire. Just then, Mitch comes out of nowhere and tackles the skull dude. I bet the NFL were envying that moment right now. But the skull dude sent a blast of fire away from him, sending Mitch to the ground. Of course he would be out cold. Guess I’m on my own. Great……………. Well skull dude is getting back up and coming toward me. “Your mine now Chris!” he wheezed. I did the only logical thing. I kneeled at his feet and prepared to die. He raised his hands, forming a great fireball. He lets it fly. I wait for the flash of heat and pain, but it never comes. There’s a shadow of a person in front of me. He had long, gaunt features, wore robes of gray wool but ended in sand as if it itself was hardened sand. He had the most severe case of bedhead that I’ve ever seen. It looked like the Afro from hell. He turned to face me and his face was scarred in the shape of a giant star in the middle of his forehead. “Chris, if you would get your ass up that would help a great deal” he said in an almost dreamy voice.
“Um dude? What the hell do you expect me to do?” I shouted at the guy. Well who the hell does he think he is? My mother?
“Get up and do something, anything. I can’t hold him much longer!” shouts the dreamy dude. So guess what? I get up and tackle skull guy into a trash can. Not the smartest move but it bought me some time. I ran over to the bank, unwrapped the water hose, and sprayed him out. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo…………………………………….” He said. Wow, talk about anti-climactic. Just then I started getting that queasy feeling again, this time it was like a soft tug. “I’ll see you later Chris.” Said the creepy, sleepy guy. Then he disappeared as if blown away by sand. The scene started to spin, blurring into nothing. I found myself awake in the nurses office at school. HOLY S***!