Chapter One

   Laying down in your bed thinking about your inevitable death is not supposed to be the ideal Friday afternoon. Even worse, is when you could literally put a time stamp on when your life would come to a close. What day your mind would shut down, what hour your final breath would escape. You have that to think about, in the comfort of your own home. No one asked for this, though some may have secretly wished for it to be here. For the adventure, for the thrill, or maybe just the ability to say they experienced it. Who knows what the motives are for those who silently wish for the world to end. I have no motive. None that I can see clearly. I always wonder if I have a hidden motive for wanting to die. My childhood wasn't bad. My parents are nice. I have friends, and yet here I am. Not at all scared for what is going to happen. I'm ready for it. I want it to happen. I'm ready to not think, to have an everlasting break from life. Though what troubles me, is I'm supposed to be worried. I'm supposed to want to live. My friends all seem to want to live. That's why when we got the official announcement of what was to happen, so many of them cried. I comforted them as best as I could, though in my mind I was thinking to myself, "What are they so worried about?". I will die, and so will everyone else. There will be no one to miss. There will be no one to remember anyone. Everything will be a clean slate once more. 

A popular theory among my peers at school was that this is God's revenge. That humans had reached such a state that he couldn't even bare to look at the ones he loved. The majority was too overwhelming. Now this is his way of saying, "This is the end. You've messed up too much.". But wouldn't that mean he made a mistake by creating humans? I wonder a lot about the cause of this wiping of the Earth. Sometimes I think I'm the only one thinking about the causes instead of what will happen after. There is no point in thinking of the after. Why waste your time?

There is a knock at my door. I push off of my covers, and swing my legs out to the side of my bed. 

"Yes? Come in!" I smile brightly, expecting a wandering eye to peek through.

The door slowly creeps open. A silhouette appears in the slightly ajar doorway and my dim yellow lighting does nothing for their face. "Natalia? Are you okay? You haven't once mentioned the news, I was getting worried about you." My mother, her sweet, concerned tone almost makes me feel bad for putting on a happy face.

"I think I'm okay. Still trying to process it, honestly." I forced out a sad sounding chuckle. I don't like to lie, but it's become so habitual now there's no point in trying to fix it. She smiles warmly, and looks down.

"I'm glad to hear you're taking the news so calmly. I knew you would." She leans on the door frame, though still has a hand on the doorknob. Obviously not intending to chat for very long. 

"I try to think about things before, y'know freaking out." I push the hair out from in front of my eyes and tuck it behind my ear. I don't know why I'm trying to explain myself.

"You always do. I'm so proud of you Natalia, you kno--" The rest is cut out. I have stopped listening. I've heard this same speech a million times. It feels so regurgitated at this point. I doubt she feels any pride, obligation maybe, but not pride. I smile and nod. Sprinkle in a few thank you's and awe's. I try to look touched by her pasted words. I feel nothing. Even as tears start rolling down her cheeks I feel nothing. I know why she's crying, she's worried about death. I feel nothing. But nonetheless my mask is on, so I get up and hug my crying mother. She's grasping at my shirt and the hug is more uncomfortable than loving. I get why though, so I say nothing. Same hug, same words, same person, same--

And suddenly, different.

Crash.

A blinding light bursts through our downstairs windows and my ears are ringing from the crash. A lightning bolt has hit our front lawn. My mother screamed, and I did nothing. I try to act shocked but I was expecting this. I knew this would happen. I don't show this. I gasp and try to sound concerned as I say "I need to go check it out." I'm curious. What will kill me? What is going to be the thing that ends everyone around me? My mother grabs my wrist and I cringe. 

"No! Don't go! It's not safe out there. Please I can't have you getting hurt." Tears are still rolling down her face and her voice sounds as if it's tearing. I have no time to argue with compassion in my voice. 

"And you think it's any safer in here?" My blank voice I recognize easily. I'm sure it was shocking to my mother to not hear her kind christian daughter so cheery during the apocalypse. I yank my wrist from her grip, and walk downstairs to the door. As I open the door, I'm hit with a strong gust of wind. Huh. The wind is this strong this soon? This is news to me and it only makes me more curious. I walk out the door and as I go to close it behind me I can hear my mother shriek my name. Not kind on my ears but it's one way to remember my mother. The wind is strong, and there's rainfall. Not sheets yet, but it'll get there. I can see the place where the lightning struck, it looks like it burned the grass that it hit. It dug a pretty big hole into the ground, and I'm just interested by all of this sensory intake. The sound of rain, the smell of it. The feeling of the droplets roughly hitting my skin. The wind is whipping my hair into my face but I couldn't care less. I spread my arms out and close my eyes as I walk forward. I want to take this with me. I want to take this moment of peace with me to the grave. The sweet peace of knowing how it all ends. The sanctity of knowing when and where you will die. It's almost making me smile.

Then my joy is wrenched away by the sound of screeching tires. I open my eyes and lower my head from the clouds. A big black van is parked before my eyes. The windows are tinted, I can't see who's inside. They start to roll down a window, and a guy I recognize leans out of the car. 

"Natalia, what the hell do you think you're doing?! You're gonna get yourself killed!" Keith April. Red spiky hair now sticks to his forehead from the rain. His arm's worth of wooden beaded bracelets almost jingle when he makes his over exaggerated arm gestures.

"That's the point, jackass." I can be myself around Keith. He knows how I think. He thinks it's mysterious, and it's fun to let him think that.

"Now's not the time to be morbid Nat, we're surviving this s**t show." His optimism is sickening but I can't be mad at him. He's too different for me to get mad. But I do put my arms down, to try and show him I can't believe what I'm hearing.

"What on earth are you talking about? You honestly think we can survive the apocalypse? I know you're optimistic but this is stretching it." My tone is as not-condescending as I can get it to be. I don't wanna sound pessimistic, but it IS inevitable that we'll all die. To my surprise, Keith grins.

"Oh but my optimism has a source this time. I have a plan. C'mon, get in the van." He motions towards a now opening car door. He can't be serious. I wait for him to laugh and say he's joking, and for him to lay in the burnt grass with me just waiting for the world to take us, but he doesn't.

"Stop joking Keith. You can't have a plan to beat the end of the world." I cross my arms, and give him a cold stare. He can't. He can't have one. It's not possible. This is a waste of my peace.

"We're not beating the end of the world, we're just hiding from it. Come on you literally can't have anything better to do." I mean it's not like he's wrong. I could hypothetically live out my last few hours on the burnt yet wet grass and taking in the world around me. But, I would like to die with someone I care about. And I know Keith will leave if I don't go with him. As much as dying alone is peaceful, it could be considered regrettable. Not to mention, I am extremely curious to see what this plan of his is. No time to waste. I shrug my shoulders and walk towards the car door that Keith so kindly opened for me. As I step in the van I hear Keith say "There's my girl!" and roll up his window. I sit in the seat closest to the door, and close it. When I lift my head up, I take a moment to recognize my surroundings. Keith is in the passenger seat. Who is driving? Long bleach blond hair and gauged ears, pale white skin covered in freckles, and I think I see some fake red feathers hanging down from the ends of his hair. A name pops into my mind, Cole. I've heard a few things about this guy but I don't want to judge him on baseless rumors. I like the way he looks so I'll reserve judgement. To my left sits another person, a girl. Long blue dreadlocks, smooth dark skin, and a silver septum piercing to top it all off. She's striking. She's wearing a loose black muscle tee with some metal band on it, white denim shorts, and a well kept pair of black Vans. I can't get over how stunning she is, how have I never noticed her before? I do notice however, that I'm staring, so I quickly look away to see if anyone else is here. Nope. Just us four. What a crew. Keith turns around in his seat and looks longingly at me. I return his glance with a mockingly similar one. He smiles, and begins to talk.

"So! Introductions are good. I assume you guys haven't met." The striking girl shakes her head slowly, and Cole chimes in with a simple "Nuh uh." 

"Cool, so everyone, this is Natalia. She's a little emo, but she's funny once you get to know her, so don't get disinterested just yet." What an intro. I wave my hand to no one, maybe trying to signal that yes, that's me, the emo girl. I guess I have no room to complain. My hair is dyed black, and I'm wearing a shirt and some bracelets advertising some traditionally "emo" bands. I don't have a problem with being called that, I just don't see myself in that light. The striking girl chuckles, and I notice. Her voice is higher than I thought it'd be. Her laugh is cute.

"This is Cole. You've probably heard about him around the school, he's quite the popular topic." Cole turns to us in the back and gives us a nod. He's handsome, to say the least. He has very defined features, like he uses contouring makeup or something. Thick black eyebrows and dark green eyes. I'd like to see him with his natural hair color. I've heard that he comes from a rich family, and that's why there are so many rumors surrounding who he actually is. As if rich people live double lives. Who knows though, maybe they do, I wouldn't know. Maybe I'll find out. But Cole definitely notices the girl. I see the look he gives her. Don't judge. Don't judge.

"And last but certainly not least, this lovely person is Emory. They're probably the biggest metal-head I know." They? I give Keith a look to confirm what I'm thinking, and he smiles back at me. Good to know. They look over from the window and smile at us. They don't give us much, but it's all I need.

"Hey." Their voice is angelic. I would love to hear them sing, I have a feeling they'd be great at it. They look at me and I can't help but smile. My thoughts are so disjointed and far apart but I'm okay with that. Them looking at me is good. Keith snorts. I roll my eyes.

"I didn't think emos smiled?" They joke, and smile again. Their voice is filled with wonder, and I can't help but get lost in it. 

"Hah, yeah. Sorry, hold on." I whip on my hood and pull it down to cover my eyes. Then I pout, and Emory laughs softly. I think Keith laughs too. I hear the engine roar, and Keith go "Oh yeah!"

"Let's not waste anymore time and get this show on the road, kids." Cole has the wheel, and somehow it doesn't make me nervous. Maybe because it's literally the end of the world, or maybe I just trust that Keith chose a good driver. I mumble "Amen." and we pull out of my driveway, wheels screeching on the concrete. I look out my window just in time to see a small glimpse of my house as it whizzes by. I think I saw my mother opening the door and running out of the house. Sorry.

Cole's driving is fast and reckless. No stop signs or speed limits in his mind, he just wants us to get there fast. God knows where we're going. Every time we hit something I try to seem calm, except I wasn't expecting this at all so it's hard to be. There are virtually no cars out right now. Everyone is with their families, or lamenting in their own rooms. We pass by dozens of kids my age trying to burn things in the pouring rain, and I laugh to myself. Those are my kind of people. No care for what's going on around them, only thing in mind is what they want to do. Ambition and determination at its finest. There's a CD playing, as the radios are all out. It has an angsty tune, but the lyrics are uplifting. I think they're uplifting. Rising up and taking charge, that's uplifting for us kids. I feel like adults have such a different view to the world, but it's not one I want. I don't understand, and as it seems, I never will. 

We come to a sudden stop. I think I closed my eyes for a little while. 

"We gotta hurry, the storm is getting bad." Keith turns around to us in the back, and looks at me. "You okay to go?" I nod. Emory nods, we're all set for whatever we're doing. I slide off my seat and out of the car, and the rain is still going. It's stronger than before, it's coming down in sheets and I can see the clouds twisting. It's beautiful, honestly. 

"C'mon Nat, get your head out of the clouds we need to speed it." I turn to Keith and follow him, putting an extra pep in my step. I look down to Keith's hands and see that he's holding his ukulele case. I had a feeling he had that with him, the guy never lets that thing leave his sight. I realize then that I haven't asked this so I ask now.

"Where even are we?" I have to raise my voice over the rain, but Keith is close so he hears me.

"Can't you read the sign?" Keith points to a large concrete sign at the edge of the curb we parked next to. It reads, "National Aeronautics & Space Administration

Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center"

I mentally stop and think about what I'm seeing. We're at NASA? I know it's like half an hour away from us but why here? Are we gonna go live in space? What is going on? I don't ask any of this. I'd rather experience this plan than have Keith try to explain everything.

NASA is huge. I mean, absolutely mind blowing. The amount of gadgetry and machines around is shocking. The white walls and tiles give the place a futuristic feel to it, too. Our shoes squeak against the floor as we walk. There is a man guiding us, I think he said something about him waiting for us. I wasn't listening. I was taking in the scenery. This beautiful scenery. I follow the group mindlessly and just, look at everything. There's so much shiny white metal, even the nameplates look like art. Even though white typically isn't my color of choice, I can still appreciate its beauty at times. The group stops, and we're at a door. It looks like a white elevator door, shiny just like everything else here. The guiding man presses a button next to the door, it makes a chiming noise, and it opens. The group walks in, and the door closes with another chime. The room is small, but not so much so that anyone is uncomfortable. The walls are mirrors, which is disorientating, but we'll leave the room soon so I'm not worried. We're going down, and we keep going down. There's a red number near the top of the wall on the right hand corner that says "B 12". We finally stop at floor B 12. I didn't think NASA had this many below ground levels. Who knows how much further it goes down. The shiny door opens to a thin chrome hallway. The floors are white tile, as usual, but the walls and doors are a dingy metal. There are nameplates next to each door that are wooden, and they are not as artsy as the upper level nameplates. 

"Nice change of pace." Keith mutters under his breath. He's not one for the futuristic look.

We're guided to the end of the hall, to the shiniest door down here. I forget to read the nameplate, but I'm sure they'll repeat it once we're in there. The guiding man knocks on the door, creating a loud booming sound that echos horrendously through the hall. Through the metal door, we faintly hear "Come on in!". A friendly voice. Cheery, reminiscent of a Santa Claus copy that you'd see at the mall. I'm already suspicious and I see that Keith is taken by surprise too. I wonder if he's as suspicious of the situation as I am. The guiding man opens the door slowly, and the metal drags across the ground. They were not conscientious of people's ears when they made this hall. I try not to flinch too much. As we walk in I notice the amount of cliche looking security guards that are surrounding this man at his desk. He looks professional, too professional. Like when he got up to get ready this morning his only thought was to look professional. His hands are folded on his desk, which lay atop of some paperwork I couldn't be more curious about. This whole room screams importance.

"Ah, the final four applicants! How are you doing, did you get stopped by the storm?" The man is overly cheerful. He's trying too hard. What is he hiding, I wonder? Though his words do give me clues as to what the situation is, so I'm not complaining. Cole, surprisingly, speaks up.

"Barely sir. We're doing just fine, thank you." He's acting stiff  around this man. Who is he? How can he make someone like Mr. Popular, nervous? This is all confusing, and yet I don't say a word. 

"Good, good. Now we haven't much time. I need you all to sign this for me, just saying that you agree to the procedure, and that this was indeed, consensual." I don't like his choice of words there but I try not to focus on it. More importantly, I get to see this paperwork. Even briefly, I can maybe make sense of what these guys have gotten me into. He flips the paper work around to face us, and places a pen by the paper. Keith goes first to sign it and we all gather around him. I catch little glimpses of the paper as I wait to be last in line. "Human race" "Survival and perpetuation" "Experimental" These words stick out to me and give me clues as to what I'm signing. When everyone else signs their name on the paper, I take the pen in my hand and bend over to sign it myself. Natalia Pace, written in print and signed. I put the cap back on the pen and set it down. I walk away from the desk. The man turns the paper around again, and looks it over.

"Yes, everything seems to be in order. This is good. This is..." His smile is smarmy, and I get such bad vibes off of him. I don't like this. I don't like this one bit. His hand goes under his desk, very quickly, and I hear the sound of a click. Dark. All the lights are out. I hear Keith say "What the--?!" and get cut off. I then feel hands grab my wrists, I feel cloth over my eyes and something cover my mouth. Why are they doing this? Didn't we sign off in agreement? My head is spinning but I'm not resisting. I hear a small laugh and a much more grotesque voice rings through the metal room.

"So sorry to do this to you kiddies, but you should've read the fine print!" More laughing scatters through the room, and I hear a loud crash. Though I don't get to discern what the cause of it is, I'm slowly blacking out. My senses dull, I lose feeling in my knees and quickly the rest of my body.

 Good night. 

Author's Note

thanks for reading ! please feel free to give your honest opinion, as i am very open to criticism. this is only the first chapter, and i plan to update with the second chapter very soon.

Reviews

[Leon C]

This is a really good opening for a story. I like the way you hint at things without spelling it out and then dribble the information to the reader. Good technique.

I guess my biggest gripe is the formatting. The text is way to small to be a comfortable read. I have to wear glasses when I read and found it a real struggle. I know this doesn't effect the quality of your work but when you post on this site you are in a competitive market to get reviews and advice. If something is hard work to read I imagine that many readers will give up and look for something easier. So enlarge your font.

So gripe over. This is very good. Keep it up.

[DanielAsher]

thank you for your kind words ! i really appreciate them.
fixed the size of the text, hopefully that resolves the issue. thank you for bringing it to my attention.