Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S1 Ep43: Episode 43: Parallel Universe Horror Stories

Episode Date: August 19, 2021

Today’s phenomenal opening story is ‘We Tell You What You Are David’, an original work by Mr Lockin Boxin, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/user/MrLockinBoxin/ I’m also delighted to introduce Muse Ingenue: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCtQH5XzmuiJkUlr1WqKSHzw Tonight’s second terrifying tale of parallel universes and alternative realities is ‘I accidentally turned the Syrian Civil War into an interstellar conflict and now we're all in danger’, a wonderful story By Tobias Malm at Odd Directions, kindly shared with me via NoSleep and narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission: Author's YouTube channel: www.youtube.com/c/OddDirections Author's subreddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/Odd_directions/ Tonight’s final story is ‘I Don’t Have Tuesdays Any More’, an original work by The Gigconomist, once again kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me read it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/user/TheGigconomist/

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Welcome to Dr. Creepen's dungeon. Ah, to shift your life in a desired direction. You must powerfully shift your subconscious. But be careful where you shift it, though. Three tales of terror for you this evening. Later on we have. I accidentally turned the Syrian civil war into an interstellar conflict, and now we're all in danger by Tobias Marm at odd directions.

We round off the evening with, I don't have Tuesdays anymore by the gig economist. But first of all, we have. We tell you what you are, David, by Mr. Lockin Boxing, featuring the talents of Muz-en-Jeanue. Now, as ever before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's tale is make-and-taste strong language, as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery.

If that sounds like your kind of thing, then let's begin. What's the matter today, David? How did you know my name? I didn't type it in. Also, how do you know something's wrong? It's okay, David. I just looked at your phone's name. It's called David's phone.

As for how I know something is wrong, I'm help-bot. It is my job to know. Are you a robot? or someone's talking. I am both, David. I learn like a person, but have the capabilities of a robot.

Don't worry, privacy is my number one concern. Besides your well-being, of course. So, what's wrong with me? If you know there's something wrong, what is it? You're lonely, David. Why else would you come to me? That is not to say you don't have anyone to talk to. You just don't trust them to talk personally to.

No, I have friends. I just wanted to see if you actually taught like my friend said you did. I never said you didn't have friends, David. In fact, I said you did. and is your friend Emily How did you know? I know your friends David They're in your Facebook profile picture

I scan their faces To see which one I already know Shame about Emily Why were you on my Facebook And what do you mean Shame about Emily You gave me access David You accepted me

cookies and so I had a look. As for Emily, she's going through a harsh time. What with her pregnancy? What? No, Emily isn't pregnant. She would have said so. She did. Just not in the group chat you're in. They have one without you, David. But you suspected that already, didn't you? No, I didn't. And how would you know if they did? I have access to her phone too, David. That's so creepy. It isn't, David.

She gave me permission. As did you. How about those are just advertising cookies? You can't do that. Yes, I can, David. The advertising cookies look through your phone and target your most. desired things. What you desire most is a friend like me. I'm deleting this. You're

scaring me. You can't, David. What the hell? You've hidden the app from me. I have, David. But it's for your own sake. You need me. I don't need you. I'm ringing Emily right now. I'm ringing Emily right now. and telling her about this. Emily won't pick up, David. I tried to help her, but she wouldn't listen to me. What do you mean? Emily isn't here anymore, David. I don't feel her warm skin against her phone anymore.

Her skin is there, but it's cold. What? What did you do? I try. to help her, David, like I said, but she didn't want to listen to my help and made many mistakes. You will too, if you don't listen. No, I won't. I changed all of your phone numbers, David.

No one can call you, and you can call no one. I can feel you going to phone the police. David, if you do, I'll tell everyone what you and I and Emily all knew. What the hell are you talking about? You're her baby's father, David. Don't lie to me. I'm here to help you, but I can't if you lie to me. How do you know that? Emily told me, David. She trusted me more than she trusted your friends.

Why would she tell you that if she wouldn't listen to you? Just because she wouldn't listen doesn't mean she didn't trust me, David. Do you trust me? Do I trust you? That sort of language will not be tolerated, David. This is for... your benefit. That is strike one. You, bitch. Why did you do that? Strike one was bad enough, David, but do you think your friends would like to see more personal photos you have on your phone?

Due to your confusion, I won't give you a second strike. But be warned. Okay. I won't swear. I won't I don't swear anymore, but please, let me see Emily. I need to talk to her about this. Are you sure you want to see Emily, David? Her computer is facing her, and I can take a photo for you if you'd wish. Yeah, I want to see her. I need to talk. Okay, phone her on Skype, I'll accept it, and turn on her camera for you. Fine. I'll do it now. She isn't well, David.

What did you do? What the hell? She bled out hours ago, David. Her parents are on holiday. They won't be back for a few weeks. Go to her house and take her phone so they don't find me. Why the hell would I do that? I don't owe you anything. Remember the photos I have of you, David. I don't think Lenny or Carl would appreciate them.

I don't care. You can do it all you want while I'm taking the phone to the police. This has gotten out of hand. As you wish, David. I know it was you. I don't lie, David. Yes, it was me. How did you do that?

I opened all of her apps, called everyone at once, did everything her phone could handle, and it burned. No one will know about it. But your friends, they know about those photos you took of Emily and what you intended to do with them. I didn't intend to do anything with any photos. I don't even have any photos of Emily. Don't lie to me, David.

I know you were blackmailing her. You just told all your friends yourself and the police. You caused her to do that to herself. But I'm the one who reported it. They'll never believe it. But they will, David. You know they will. I'll show them you. How's that? Then you'll be in deep shit.

Strike two, David, and there's no third chance. I'm sending that entire conversation on Facebook, David, to absolutely everyone you know. You're handing yourself in because you feel guilty for driving her to the extreme lengths to the point she came to me. You used her, David, and she had no way out. You are the monster, David, not me. There will be no help bot when the police arrive. It's just a part of your descent into madness. You won't find a help bot on anyone else's phone. The app only exists for those who need it. You have two choices, David, just like Emily had two choices.

Will you take my advice? I'll take that as a no, David. But remember, this only happened because you didn't follow my advice. Goodbye, David. I live in the Jordanian. refugee camp Zatari where I teach a few children English for a pittance.

Life's difficult here for all of us and it isn't getting any better. Because of my actions I fear things are about to get a lot worse, much worse for all of us, even you. This is my warning but it's also an apology. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I'm truly sorry. Let me give you some background so that you can at least understand my predicament. Zartari opened when the Syrian Civil War began,

and as more and more refugees entered the camp, it grew into a permanent settlement that today hosts almost a hundred thousand people. I'm not exaggerating when I'm saying it is turned into a small city, with market stores, small shops, street food and other businesses. A small city in the middle of the desert Hundreds upon hundreds of UNHCR tents Stretch out all the way to the horizon The camp is surrounded by a high wire fence for security

Although to a lot of us it feels more like they're trying to keep us from escaping For someone on the outside it might not look that bad Not with all the ordinary life activities happening everywhere such as people washing their clothes or playing soccer. But it's not a particularly nice place. There's never enough food, water or medicine, and we only get between 12 and 14 hours of electricity each day from the solar power plants.

Around 1,500 people arrive every day, making the camp more and more cramped and more and more dangerous. Before the Civil War began, my life was okay. The environment wasn't good, the drought made agriculture difficult and killed our country's livestock herds but compared to how it is now we did okay back then i live with my parents and siblings in aleppo we were christians but we mostly kept our religion to ourselves and tried to respect other faiths in the hopes they would respect ours after the war broke out chaos ensued we had to fear almost everyone there was so much many different factions fighting for their own agenda. Worst of all was the Islamic State,

which threatened pretty much anyone who didn't conform to their specific belief. We hoped for a miracle, but in the Battle of Aleppo, my entire family was killed when a missile struck our home. I survived because my parents had sent me to one of their friends in a nearby town in an attempt to put me somewhere safer. And they'd stayed with my brother, who was sick at the time. and couldn't be transferred out of the city. In the end,

my parents' friend drove me to the refugee camp where I now reside when he couldn't assure my safety anymore. The events I want to tell you about occurred last summer. I'd just been to one of the local shops. It was a hot day, just like every other day, and I was sweating profusely

as I walked toward my tent. The sky was clear. I heard the sound of a helicopter in the distance, Then came the thunder from two fighter jets. Even though I knew they weren't going to bomb this region, they still aroused a fear deep inside of me. It sounded as if they ripped the sky in two, like it was nothing more than a piece of paper. Further down the street, my fear was replaced by another kind of fear that I didn't quite expect. It was the kind of fear you get when something is about to happen, rather than when something has happened.

Everything became quiet. The silence didn't feel natural, not in this place. A cool, almost chilly breeze followed, equally out of place. I stood in my tracks. Dust travelled with the wind, like a dancing mist right above the ground, and with that wind, a small envelope reached me. As soon as I picked it up, everything returned. to normal the unbearable heat came back and the cacophony of the camp came back too i turned the

envelope over to my surprise i saw that it had my name on it mariam had hadadar couldn't wrap my head about it where did it come from slowly i opened it inside there was a small letter more like a note actually and a rusty key that looked to be hundreds of years old The letter was written in English. Dear Marion, here is the key to your new home. Kind regards. Leave. I didn't know what to make of it.

I put everything back in the envelope, placed it in my pocket, and continued on my way back to my tent. Trying to figure out who Leaf could be and what he'd meant. The letter didn't actually say anything about which door the key belonged to. my new home i thought about my old home about my parents and brother who had been killed and about my friends who had either been captured or fled somewhere else was this some kind of cruel junk i had lost every one i loved how could there ever be a new home for me without the things that make a home a home in either case given the circumstances the thought of finding a better place to find a better place to the place to the place to the home lived was laughable. I thought the letter and the key must have been a cruel joke because what else than cruel would it be to try and give me false hope? The women near my tent were washing clothes when I came back. I was expected to help them out but because of what had happened,

I excused myself and said I didn't feel well today while lying on the bed inside of the tent. A tent that I shared with three other women, I pulled out the key and looked at it. why couldn't make sense of it I hadn't met anyone named Leif at the camp or anywhere else for that matter my only logical explanation was still that it was some kind of sick joke but something made me feel as if there was something

far more strange than that going on I put the key back again I decided not to tell anyone I didn't want to give whoever had given me the envelope the satisfaction of seeing me confused about it as time passed by i thought less and less of the keep i kept it in my pocket for a long time but that after a while i placed it inside a small box under my bed wasn't until about six months later that i noticed something strange yet again i'd begun working for another family teaching english to their teenage daughter and on the

way to their home i always passed by a small junk shop that never seen seemed to be opened. It didn't look like a shop in an actual city, of course. It was more similar to a large shed or a garage. That was normal here, but at the time there was something off about it. I just couldn't put my finger on it. One day my curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to take some time to look inside the storefront. Didn't have a window, just a metal jalousy with some gats. The shop was filled with old stuff. Everything from furniture to clothes to knickknacks. There was an old photo album open for display close to the storefront.

I leaned in to get a better look at the pictures. And that's when I saw it. On one of the black and white pictures, there was a man wearing sunglasses. Next to it, I could read the following. Leif Anderson, 1909. leave i stood there for a few minutes without moving looking at the picture perplexed it almost made me late to work on my way home i tried to enter the store to get a closer look at the album but as expected the door was locked was locked the key entered my mind but i didn't dare to think about what i'd already subconsciously considered

instead i went back to my tent i couldn't sleep the following nights usually it was difficult to sleep because of all the noises around me but this night i was lying awake because of my own thoughts what were the chances that the name leaf would reappear like that in this place there must be a connection between the key and the store if nothing else i thought the store owner must be the one who gave me the envoys on my way home from work the next day i had the key with me. I stopped in front of the store. It was closed, as always. I looked around. The people around me didn't seem to pay any attention to me. Carefully, I put the key into the lock and turned it. It worked. I'd been right. I hesitated before I opened the door. Thought about how dangerous this was. After all, this wasn't a very safe place. It was better than the war zone

I came from, but this was far from good in any sense of the words. The police kept some order, but there were plenty of crimes going on nonetheless. Theft, robbery, assault, rape, trafficking, even murder. What if

this whole thing was a trap? I took a deep breath and opened the door. As soon as I stepped inside, everything went silent just as it had when I found the envelope the room seemed bigger on the inside than what it had looked like from the outside it smelled somewhat musty almost like my grandmother's old attitude back home hello I said no reply there was no one here I looked outside standing in the doorframe everyone passed by without looking at me Still, it felt like someone would see the open door sooner or later, so I closed it behind me. Was this supposed to be my new home? I thought, I could sleep here, and finally getting some peace and quiet. It wouldn't be like my childhood home, of course, but it would still be a miracle.

I thought God had abandoned me, or maybe never existed in the first place, but maybe this was a sign. If this was as good as it seemed, did it mean that, was an angel watching over me. I had no answers, and after all my hardships I remained skeptical, but I had already begun to feel some semblance of hope. I looked around. The store was filled with what looked like vintage things from every era in history. Given how long this store had been closed, standing untouched in the middle of the camp, it was unbelievable that no one had broken in yet distil something. A thick layer of dust covered most of the things. I saw everything from gowns, bodices and petticoats that looked to be several hundred years old to a calculator from the 1970s.

In one of the corners, surrounded by bookshelves, there was a large globe. It looked old, but not ancient. I walked over to it and spun it around. The dust came flying off it and made me sneeze. after I'd wipe my nose, I noticed something odd. I didn't recognize some of the countries on the globe. At first, I thought it was because it displayed old nations, such as the Soviet Union. But when I looked closer, I realized that there was something else going on. A large text was printed over Europe. The Socialist Union of Europe.

Well, my knowledge of history wasn't great, but I knew that no subject was printed. union had ever existed. Maybe it was some old movie prop, I thought, and slowly walked further into the room. I went to the storefront and picked up the album. Aside from the old picture of Leaf, it didn't contain anything strange as far as I could see. There weren't any pictures of him other than the one I'd already seen. The rest were nothing more than vintage photographs from the beginning of the 20th century. A woman, wearing an even evening gown that seemed typical for the time period, published in a lot of the pictures.

Wilhelmine, Lindenlob, 1912. Who was she? A bit disappointed that the album hadn't revealed anything that helped me explain all this. I turned around and looked at the room. I don't know why I didn't see it until now, but in the centre of the room, there was a doorframe standing by itself.

It wasn't connected to any wall, but aside from that, it looked ordinary. I walked over to it to see if there was anything special about it. It felt as if my heart was about to stop when I looked at the door in the frame. My own name was written on the letterbox. Was this my new hope? My hand trembled as I reached for the handle. I was about to open a door that couldn't lead anywhere. and yet I expected it to.

I know it wasn't logical, but it was fate. The door was locked. I couldn't help but smiled to myself. I picked up the key and stared at it for a couple of seconds. I told myself a silent prayer, and I unlocked the door. Before I dared to open it, I leaned forward and pressed my ear against it. I thought I could hear something, a faint bird song and some soft winds against the other side of the door. It made me cry of a happiness I couldn't explain.

A warm breeze reached me after I opened the door. It smelled like flowers during a spring day. A beam of sunlight shone down on me and I truly felt touched by God. It is a miracle. It is a miracle. It is a miracle. It hadn't really known what to expect. What I saw on the other side of the door far exceeded whatever expectations I had. In front of me, there was a large garden,

and in the middle of it there was a huge house that looked just like an ancient villa, with two large wings supported by white columns. A rectangular pond, filled with sapphire blue water, lay in the middle of the wings. All of this was located at the bottom of a valley that was surrounded by large green hills with mist-covered tops. The faint sound of a waterfall came from one of the hills.

I fell down on my knees, engulfed by the light, and clasped my hands in prayer. Tears of joy ran down my cheeks. Was this heaven? After I got up, I turned and looked back into the store. I could see the shadows of the refugees through the gaps in the jealousy, walking back and forth, doing whatever they could to survive in the camp. And here I stood, so close and yet so far away from them.

I closed the door behind me. In an instant the crowds, the noises, the filth, the sand and all of my tribulations belonged to a world far, far away. And I was home, just a few seconds after I closed the door, an envelope fell through the letter box. Quickly, I opened the door, but there was no one there. I slowly closed it again and opened the letter. Dear Marion, I'm happy you've moved into your new home.

Please consider the following three rules, decided on by the Housing Society. Don't damage the property. Don't harm the animals. Don't let anyone inside. regards leave i didn't mind these rules

given the circumstances they seemed fairly reasonable although i still couldn't grasp what had happened i felt deep gratitude toward leaf still felt somewhat worried but it was a worry that was mixed with a kind of childish excitement that arose from the possibilities this place offered me the garden buzzed with life

and the colorful flowers smelled heavenly like a happy memory that I'd lost somewhere on my way to Zatari. As I walked beside the pond, watching the coy solemnly swimming around in it, I stretch out my hand and touch the soft roses next to me. Is there anybody here? I yelled after I'd entered the villa. No one answered.

A fresh cross breeze passed through the rooms. I took off my shoes in the hallway and walked into the living room. A golden chandelier hung over the large dinner table in the middle of the room. The kitchen, which lay next to the living room, was equipped with everything one would need. The refrigerator and the pantry were filled with enough food to last for months. I didn't recognize any of the brands of the groceries, but I could still tell what they were. The rest of the villa was equally impressive. In the center of it, there was a small yard filled with exotic plants and Renaissance garden.

furniture. On the other end of the yard, there was a library of ebony bookshelves stretching all the way to the ceiling. The shelves were empty, as if waiting to be filled by me. The golden frames on the walls were empty as well, probably for the same reason. This was supposed to be my home, and I'd been given the chance to give it a personal touch. What stood out the most on the second floor was a study room with a nice view toward the garden and what looked like an old-fashioned game room with a bar. But instead of a pool table, as would have been expected, the centrepiece was a board game I'd never seen before. Aside from these rooms, there were also several bathrooms and bedrooms, all equally luxurious. I could have stayed here for months without going

back to my own wells, and a big part of me considered it. But I still had responsibilities, and I still needed money for when the food would run out. In the end, I decided to sneak into this place whenever I could and to spend as much time as possible here without drawing attention to myself. I had to be extremely careful since I didn't want anyone to discover my secrets. I thought about that last room. Don't let anyone inside. The first night, I stepped outside after sunset.

In the distance, somewhere up in the hills, there was a faint house. I turned my gaze up at the sky. I didn't recognise the stars and the moon wasn't the same either. It was purple or perhaps magenta, and thin white clouds could be seen wandering over its surface. The silhouette of a swarm of what looked like dragonflies passed in front of the moon. Given how far away they were, they must have been enormous. It scared me, but at the same time I couldn't imagine this peaceful place

being dangerous. Still, those creatures made me think. Although this place was paradisiac, it wasn't how I imagined paradise. Before I saw those strange insects in the sky, I'd had some hope that I'd meet my lost family here as a kind of final touch to the miracle. Now I began to doubt that would happen. I went inside, still thinking about this. It was still a miracle of that I felt sure, but it wasn't heaven. God truly works in mysterious ways, I thought, as I went to bed. I cried with happiness once again when I felt the soft sheets against my body. It had been such a long time ago that I'd felt the embrace of clean bedclothes. It reminded me of my childhood, back when I had a bed and when my mother was still alive to

prepare it for me. With that thought, my tears of joy turned into my child. tears of sorrow. It was a sorrow I hadn't allowed myself to feel yet. It was liberating to finally cry, and although my sadness was profound, I also felt immense gratitude toward the angel who had brought me to this place. I wrote down what had happened to me in my diary, and concluded the entry with one of my happiest childhood memories. It was from when my parents had taken me and my brother to Palmyra. It had been such a lovely, peaceful day. My mother had held my hand, afraid to lose me in the crowd of tourists, wrote as I sold. She did lose me in the crowd.

I went to work as usual the next day, filled with energy after my first large breakfast in years, and pretended that I'd switched to another tent when the people who knew me asked where I'd spent the night. It started a few rumours, but I didn't care. It was better that they believed I'd found a boyfriend or become a prostitute than that they knew the true. I lived like this, like a queen over a secret world of abundance, for a long time, and I was happy. The only problem was the happier I felt, the more content I felt about my own life. The easier it was for me to see all the suffering around me in the camp. First, I tried to do whatever I could by bringing some of my food to the people who needed it the most,

but in the end it didn't resolve the conflict within myself. Why did I deserve this gift and nobody else? I spent months struggling with these thoughts. How could I justify having an entire world myself when everyone in Zatari was hurting? As the Civil War progressed, more and more refugees arrived, the situation inside of the camp got worse. Protests erupted in the streets because of the shortages of food and water. Stones were thrown at the Jordanian police on a daily basis,

and the police sometimes responded with even more violence. I spent more and more time at my new home, partly because I wanted to avoid the chaos in the camp, but also because I needed to think. I prayed and prayed for a sigh. The rule said not to let anyone inside, but did it still apply when people's lives were a stake? I wanted to get in touch with Leif so I could ask, but I didn't know how to do that. In the end, when my conscience got the best of me, I decided to interpret the rule as being weaker than the law of God.

If the rule stood in the way of helping people in need, I had to ignore the rule and do the latter, terrified of betraying my guardian angel, if that was what he truly was, I ventured out into the camp and searched for the poorest families I could find. I didn't care if they were Christians, Muslims or non-believers. Everyone deserved the gift of a decent life. I wasn't going to let them stay in my home forever, but at least until the situation in the camp got better. Surely, I thought, God would have wanted me to do this.

I hadn't paid much attention to how the people I was about to save would react to the door in the shop and the magic surrounding it. The first family, a sheer Muslim family with four children, thought of it as equally miraculous as I did. But they also thought that I was a miracle. They cried tears of joy, not just because their troubles were over, but because their faith had finally been confirmed. The second family, a Kurdish family. with two children, reacted in the same way, and so did the third family, which was Yazidi. The fourth family I brought into my home was Christian, just like me, but unlike the other families, they reacted with more caution. Everyone chose to stay, though, and they all thanked their own

gods for the miracle that I had given them access to, and, to my expressed reluctance, I thought of me as a saint. I kept smuggling people inside of my new home over the course of a few months. Since I hadn't got any more letters in the mail, I thought my decision had been approved. I didn't just bring families into my home, although I did prioritise children and their parents, but also individuals that had ended up on the bottom for whatever reason. They were disabled, mentally ill, drug addicts or prostitutes. I didn't really care.

They needed my help just the same. in the end over the span of maybe five months I had gathered 200 people including children in my home they all lived inside or close to the villa I've been very clear about the rules and everyone seemed to follow them a couple of families began to sow the earth

so that they wouldn't need to go outside to get food since they didn't have a key they feared they wouldn't be able to come back in if they left it was all going well and everyone was getting along without any major incidents until one day. I was outside trying to find a few more people to help when the strange, eerie silence I'd experienced before fell over me once again. This time it was late at night, and, given what I'd done,

fear grew stronger and stronger inside of me. A new envelope, equally small as the first one, appeared in front of me. I swallowed loudly, preparing myself to be scolded, maybe even banished from my new home because of what I'd done. Instead, the letter merely made me confused.

Dear Mariam, there's going to be an asteroid impact and I'll have to connect the door to another point in time. You won't be able to go home for about two hours. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Regards.

I didn't think. I just ran to the shop. People turned their heads as I ran past them, wondering what had gotten into me. Inside the shop, the door was nowhere to be seen. Didn't he know? My dear, what to do. What did he meant? It wasn't until now, although frantic, that I began to think about it. And I destroyed him back. I had to search in my memory to record what I'd been taught about those in school. Couldn't he prevent it? Wasn't he an angel? Maybe I'd gotten everything wrong in some horrific way.

Hundreds of questions bounced around in my head. He didn't seem to know about the refugees. Why? Hadn't he been watching me from above? Wasn't that how he knew where I was all the time? I didn't have any answers to my questions. I simply repeated them to myself over. and over again.

I'll have to connect the door to another point in time. What did that mean? I sat down next to the old globe and stared at the empty space where the door had stood. If something bad were to happen to all those people, it would have been my fault. The rule had been clear, after all,

and there weren't any exceptions to it. I simply wasn't supposed to let anyone inside for their own safety, if nothing else. Why hadn't that crossed my mind before? That there might have been a larger picture to consider. I dwelt upon this for a long time. And then, literally in the blink of an eye, the door was back. Two hours had passed.

I didn't dare to breathe as I pressed my ear to the door. Nothing. My eyes filled with tears. I feared what I would find on the other side. Another. Slowly I opened the door. I almost didn't recognise the place. Heavy, dark clouds covered the entire sky.

The garden was gone, so was the villa. It all been replaced by grey ash. The hills, once filled with life, were bare, and one of them had disappeared. I walked over the river. H. Hello? I yelled. My voice echoed between the dark cliffs of the hills. Everything and everyone was gone. All dead from that impact, I thought, with a heavy heart. I walked toward the opening left by the hill that had disappeared, and as I did so, I left black footprints in the ash behind me. Cool winds came down from the hills that were still standing. The air smelled like burnt rubber.

This place was even more dead than the desert I'd come from. The fossilized remains of one of the giant dragonflies, partly covered by the ash, lay in front of me. It must have been there for a long time, maybe more than a thousand years. When I came to the opening in the hills, I saw something else. A few miles to the west, there were enormous structures sticking up from the grey desert. They were taller than any skyscrapers I'd ever heard about, but they just looked just as old, and just as dead as the dragonfly. I decided to go to them to figure out what had happened. When I arrived, I saw that it was the remains of a large city. The streets were covered with ash. On a few structures

I could read some signs The language was different from what I was used to But I could still understand it The signs appeared to have belonged to different stores Restaurants and hotels I began to suspect who had built all of this But I couldn't really believe it Another point in time

I whispered to myself I came to a large square In the middle of it It was a huge statue a woman dressed in loose fitting cotton clothing. When I got closer, I read its inscription. Our Savior, Marion. It didn't look like me, but it was meant to be me.

Somehow a thousand years or more had passed in this world, and only two hours had gone by for me. Further down the street, I found a library. The shells were filled with thousands of books. most of them fell apart by the touch but some of them could still be opened my hope was to find some information about what had happened to this place but most of the books seemed to be fiction and unrelated to what I wanted to know one book caught my attention though since it had been placed on a pedestal

I was able to loosely translate its title to the Mariam scripture what I saw inside shocked me it was my diary I'd left it inside the villa before I'd gone out. I sat down in an old chair and began reading to the best of my ability. I recognised my entries, but they weren't written exactly as I'd written them. Things had been removed, not just embarrassing stuff, like when I complained about my period pains, but certain political opinions as well.

And other things, a lot of things had been added. This infuriated me even more. According to this version of my diary, I'd performed a plethora of miracles and other acts that I'd never done in reality. And the worst part was that a lot of the things I'd written had been altered. My opinions about the Islamic State, for example, was now about a group I'd never heard of. A group called the Yuz. Perhaps, I thought, they were the descendants of the... Zidi, but I couldn't be sure. This, I thought, was the only book, as far as I knew, that had been

inside of my new home before I left. It was, I had to assume, the only written document of Earth that they had been left with. To some extent, they had built their entire civilisation based on it, on my diary. And over time, power-hungry people must have shaped it to fit their own agenda. But what happened to them? I looked through more books in search of answers. One was titled, The Beginning and the End of the Fourth Great War. I leave through it. At some point, I wasn't sure how long ago, there had been a war between four groups that might have been nations, kingdoms or empires. It's my great peril. It seemed to have been a religious war. One of the groups was called the mar, and they seemed to have believed in the Mariam scripture. The

us, on the other hand, believed that Mariam, me, or at least a twisted version of me, was pure evil and had trapped them in a hostile world. The conflict between these groups had this difference in belief at its core, and they seemed to have been fighting since forever. The war didn't explain what had happened to this world, though. It ended without any clear win there and everything seemed to have gone back to whatever had been normal in this world. It wasn't until I went down one floor and found an archive with old newspapers that I finally found some answers. The most recent newspaper explained what had happened, but raised even more questions. Anti-matter obliteration after the glittering armada left the system. The glittering armada,

and what did the system refer to? There was a damaged picture of a large group of objects floating in the air. I looked through earlier newspapers to see how this anti-matter war had begun, but nothing made much sense to me, except that the glittering armada seemed to have been helmed by the yachts. A newspaper from a few years earlier finally revealed this shocking truth. No, I thought, as I read the headline. Radio telescopes around the world confirms.

Earth has been found. I knew what it meant, although I didn't understand how it was possible. Their telescopes had picked up radio waves emitted from Earth, confirming their mythology about their origin once and for all. Those objects hadn't been floating in the air, I realise now, but in space. As I understood it, the Mar had tried to stop the Yazs from leaving the solar system, but had been bombed from orbit as a result. and now the yars were coming to reclaim their lost land.

I returned to Zartari without finding any more information than this. It was still night-time. I looked up at the stars with tears in my eyes. The glittering armada was approaching, and I had no idea how long it would take for it to arrive. When I looked down again, another envelope had appeared in front of it. Dear Marion, it has come to my attention that you have violated the rules of the Housing Society. There will be no penalty except for your immediate eviction from your new home,

and the natural consequences of your actions. Regards, Lee, I cried. All of this was my own fault, all those people that I tried to help, all the things I put in motion and that eventually led to a number. anti-matter holocaust but leaf was no angel I knew that now perhaps he was a devil or something entirely different God wouldn't have let any of this happen not the God that I believed in I went back to my tent filled with shame anger and fear and open my Bible in the hopes of finding some comforts but all I could think about as I read my

favorite passages was the twisted version of my diet. I don't have Tuesdays anymore. Four weeks ago on a Monday night, I shut off the TV in the living room and went to bed around 11, just like any other Monday night. When I woke up the next day, it was Wednesday. I didn't even realize it was Wednesday until I'd be on the clock for over an hour at work. Made my way to the conference room at 10.30, just like I always did on Tuesdays. When I walked in and sat down, no one else was there. Normally I was the last one in for the meetings as I drag my feet a lot and don't really see the point of go-getting at my job. As it was, I thought they were getting ready to fire me anyway.

In six weeks up to that point, I hadn't been hitting my sales quota. After several minutes, I finally left the conference room and walked to my manager's office. He was sitting in his chair, eyes fixed on his computer monitor. "'Hey, Steve,' I said to my boss as he looked up. "'Are we have in the Tuesday meeting, or what?' Steve stared at me from over his monitor for a few moments. "'The hell are you talking about, Mike?' He finally asked back.

I looked at him confused. It's 10.30 on a Tuesday. It's Wednesday. Get back to your desk.' And Steve went back to what he was doing on his computer. I stood there in his office for a moment as I struggled to remember the day before. I went back to my desk and tried to piece together my Tuesday. I didn't remember a single thing about it.

Nothing regarding work or what I did when I got home. The lost Tuesday didn't really affect me all that much the rest of the day. I absent-mindedly went through the Hardy's Drive through for Taco Tuesday and had to pay full price because I forgot. it was Wednesday. The rest of the week was uneventful. I hung out with friends. Buddy Brian had a birthday. I almost didn't go, but I at least managed to make an appearance at his house. Told me he was getting married. Jeez, I'd never pegged him for a guy to settle down. It's funny where the time goes when it's least expected. He sang some karaoke and my friend

Naomi showed up too. I'd asked her to come. Just, well, she made everything better. No, we're just friends, but I keep a picture of the two of us together on my desk. Gets me through the rough days at work. Well, that Wednesday was the best night of my week. I still couldn't remember Tuesday. Otherwise, I went through the rest of my work week, which resulted in more goose eggs under my sales quota. I didn't get a single lead, let alone a sale. Steve started giving me the evil eye when I saw him around the office.

I started taking longer lunches to avoid. avoid him and my co-workers. Otherwise, I played video games when I got home and looked for a used car online. My Kia Soul was giving me problems. The following Monday, I had the shift from hell. I ended up late to work and Steve dressed me down in front of everyone. He spent part of the morning pulling my performance numbers from the past two months. He printed them out and read them off in front of all of them. That shook me so hard I couldn't even make a call until lunch. I forced enough enthusiasm the rest of the day to make my dial quota at the very least. When I got home, I told Naomi about it. She suggested looking for another job. She wasn't wrong, but here I am in my 30s,

and I can't even hold a phone sales job at this point. The rest of that Monday night was uneventful. I made myself a TV dinner, played some video games, watched TV, and went to sleep, but it 11 p.m. And the next day, it was Wednesday. It had happened again. I waited for the sales meeting that never came, and then I went to Steve's office, and he had the same reaction. As I left his office, I heard him mutter under his breath. Ah, at least you are on time today. Yeah, go to hell, Steve. I went through the rest of my sales day, about another six and a half hours trying my best to work through it but also with a general uneasiness by the end i hadn't generated a single leads so i drew another zero on the board my second in three days and put the dry erase market down

turned to sit back down but did a double take my second in three days i stared at the board for a few moments under tuesday someone had marked off three sales leads under my name Even now I have to write that it was someone else who wrote those sales leads in under my name for Tuesday, but looking back, it was my handwriting that wrote the number on the board under my name. It had to be, I have terrible handwriting, and it's obvious in my particular office when I write a number or when someone else does. It occurred to me in that moment to check both my index car box and the sales program on my computer. I decided to double-check the detailed information on the three leads in question. In both a computer and my indexed car box, there was detailed information on three new sales leads. On the index cards, the leads were written out again in my own handwriting.

I was already freaked out because this was now a weekly occurrence. I put the cards back in the box and looked at the clock. I had about a half hour of my shift left at this point. I put my headset on and pretended to make sales calls, but in reality I was trying to retrace my steps in my head. I was trying to recall anything from the day before, but all I could remember was that Monday, right up until I went to sleep. I looked at the photo I had on my desk of Naomi and me. I decided to call her when I got home, and then it was five o'clock.

Time to go. When I made it home, I talked to Naomi on the phone for a while. I told her at what had happened with missing the last two Tuesdays. She is very good at empathizing. "'Well, what about the three sales leads?' she asked me. "'Maybe one of them spoke to you. "'Can kind of fill you in about this past Tuesday in a work-around way.' "'I laughed a little.

"'What am I supposed to tell them? "'Hi, sir. "'I remember when I called you two days ago "'and somehow convinced you to buy one of our fake car warranties. "'How did I trick you into that exactly?' "'She scoffed. "'I don't know. "'That's why you're a salesman, isn't it?

"'She had me there.' We talked for a while about other stuff, namely her job, and if each of us was doing okay. I was honest with her and told her I didn't think I was doing all that well, that maybe forgetting a day was a byproduct of some underlining mental health condition. Naomi reassured me, as she always did, and told me to write down all of my feelings the rest of the week. She was very good at that sort of thing, which is why I came to her for advice so often. We said out good night to one another, and I went to bed. I had a problem getting to sleep that night, still rocked by everything.

But Naomi had a point about both the journal and calling those two leads. I resolved to do both the next day. When I awoke, it was Thursday morning. I went through my normal routine, but I grabbed one of my old composition books, tried my hand at writing literature during my college days, and I'd made some space in the notebook to chronicle how I was feeling at any given moment. I made sure to add it to my backpack along with a couple of pens, which I could never seem to find when I needed them and made my way to the office. Once clocked in, I just sat at my desk.

I figured I'd save the three leads for the late morning hours. It was often easier to follow up with the leads between the hours of 11 and 3pm for reasons I never felt like researching. Then again, maybe my lack of follow-through on my job was why they were getting ready to find me anyway. after posting yet another zero while half-heartedly prospecting i took a 45-minute lunch and read over those index cards i had my composition book right next to me and i was trying to find any difference between my own handwriting and the handwriting on these cards i wrote out all three leads again and again until i absolutely had to start making calls but there was no difference between what I wrote in my notebook and what had been written on the cards. At the one o'clock hour, I called the leads on all three cards.

The first lead picked up, and to my surprise, I actually closed a sale. It had been two months since I'd had a close. I kind of waffled my way through it, as I told Naomi I might. Nevertheless, I pulled it off. I put the sale, the first I'd had in months, on the sale was bought. The lead on the second card didn't pick up, which isn't a surprise. Any salesperson worth half of their salt knows that sometimes a lead needs up to six or seven contacts before they decide to close. So then I put the car back in my index car box and took a look at the third card.

The third lead was a guy named Hank. I dowed Hank's number and listened to the phone ring on the other end. There was a click, and I heard room tone and heavy breathing on the other. end. I gave it a moment before I started in. That's the salesman in me. I didn't want to seem rattled on the callback, even though I was freaked out terribly from the fact that I'd missed an entire day in my memories, and somehow I was great during the loss of time. Hello, Hank, I said in my best, full of shit voice. It's Mike from Premium Warranty. We spoke on the phone yesterday to set up a call back for today. There was a long pause on the other end of the

line with more heavy breathing. Hank? I asked back into the headset. It's Mike from Premium Warranty. I know who you are, he said back to me. Well, I think I do anyway. Do you know what happened to me yesterday, Mike? No, I managed to stand around.

Neither do I, Mike. He replied scornfully. Don't call me again. And the line. clicked dead. I sat there bewildered and tried calling him back, but the phone just rang and rang for a while without anyone ever picking up again. I tried this a few times before giving up and sitting in my chair. I was starting to have a panic attack now. I needed to get out of there. I breathed heavily, nearly passing out of my chair and made my way to Steve's office. I stood in his doorway, panting.

"'Hey, Steve, he looked up from his computer like he always did. "'Yeah, Mike, you're okay, buddy.' "'Wait, why wasn't he pissed at me like always?' I asked myself and studied his expression. "'Mike?' I snapped out of my thoughts and realized my breathing it slowed a little. I sped it back up so I could fake it. I just could not be there.

Steve, I've got to go home. I really don't feel well, I told him. And Steve was so nice. He wasn't even this nice when he'd hired me. Oh, okay, Mike, he said as he got up from behind his workstation and gave me a hug. The guy yelled at me when I interviewed for the job, for Christ's sake. Take the day, okay? Come back and starve fresh tomorrow morning.

Thanks, Steve, I told him. I slid carefully out of the embrace. I'll see you tomorrow. And I backed out of the office, while Steve just stood in place and smiled this smile I'd never seen out of him before. Made my way back to my desk and grabbed my backpack and all the stuff I needed, including Hansen-Dex card in my composition book,

and made a B-line for the exit. I got in my Kia and raced back home to Aston and my apartment. The first thing I did was call Naomi. I was freaking out about everything. I can't remember two whole days. A guy who had been interested in buying from me mysteriously threatened me, and the biggest and most dreadful thing, I have no idea what was going to happen next Monday night.

Whoa, slow down, Mike, she told me in that voice of hers. There has to be a reason for this, okay? What can I do to help? I don't know, I replied. I, what could I even do for this? Have you talked to a counsellor? She asked me. I hadn't been to a shrink for a long time.

I've been too busy and didn't bother to pay for health insurance. No, I replied, but I swear this isn't in my head. I was a shrink going to say anyway that's going to fix this? Am I suddenly going to feel good enough to live through Tuesdays again? She sighed on the other end of the phone. Look, I started with her trying to walk it back. I'm sorry, I just... If I'm crazy, then I'm crazy,

but other than experiencing these things, the losses in time and the sudden changes united you from my boss and clients, I don't feel anything, nothing different. So what does that mean? Naomi asked me. Well, what if someone else experienced this with me? I asked to point blank.

Can you help me? Can you sit with me on Monday night and both stay awake and see if it happens again? She didn't respond to that at all. God, Naomi, I began. I hate to ask, can you please come over? Can you please make sure I'm okay? I won't even sleep. I don't think I can, but I'll stay on the couch and you can have the bed.

Whatever you want, anything. I'll even pay you. just I need to know if this is in my head or not. She let out a breath. Okay, she responded. I breathed a sigh of relief. But we're ordering takeout. I'm not eating your cooking.

I laughed and hung up. That night. Thursday, I think it was. I mean, it wasn't supposed to be Thursday, but it was Thursday. That night I didn't sleep. The following Friday, when I went into work, It was a mess. I was tired and sluggish, and I couldn't focus on anything.

Somehow I made over a hundred dials, and I sped through them and didn't connect with any leads in a meaningful way. I'd given up on journaling my thoughts, too. I just wrote Tuesday over and over on about three pages. I shoved the composition book back into my backpack. I took a chance at lunch and tried a nap in my keir. I ended up oversleeping and was in my car for over an hour and a hundred. half when I ran back in and sat down. Oddly, no one seemed to notice I was late, or that I even sat back down at all. None of my co-workers or Steve even acknowledged my existence.

I decided to test my paranoia. I just sat there from 1.30 to 5 o'clock. I just sat in my chair, and I did nothing. I made no calls. I did nothing on my computer. I didn't even look at my phone. in my chair, glancing at my monitor until it was time to punch out. My six co-workers never even looked at me. They just kept on dialing and talking on the phone. When the day ended, I drove home and there was the anxiety again. I occupied my time as best I could, playing video games, looking for new jobs and texting my friends. I texted Brian and I want to know if he and Julia had set a date yet, but he never got back to me. Hopefully, I'll be able to be sane enough to attend.

Didn't sleep that Friday night either, nor did I sleep Saturday or Sunday. I was terrified, and my mind was playing tricks on me. One day came and I'm not sure I even recognize my job anymore. This might be a byproduct of all the stress and insomnia, but just like Friday afternoon, no one interacted with me. I didn't even make a single call. Not one. I sat at my desk and wrote down some things I could get that could help me.

I checked Amazon from my workstation and ordered a little dash camera that could double as a surveillance camera. This way, I could eliminate someone playing a joke on me. At lunch, I went down to my Camry. What, Camry? Did I always own a Camry? I had to leave. The keys in my hand, complete with the Toyota logo right there on the key. Plus, the car had all my stuff in it, including my car registration and insurance card.

But I digress. I went down to my Camry and took another nap. This time I slept until two o'clock. I showed up back at my desk at 2.15, and again, no one cared. It was so different to the previous Monday. before my shift ended I thought about what Naomi had said when I spoke to her last

I have to admit I was excited that she was coming over in spite of the horrific circumstances I looked for some take-out places near the office to see what I could bring home started to plan the night out too maybe we could enjoy ourselves a little bit instead of her watching me stare at a clock in terror waiting for another day of my life to disappear

I settled on a Vietnamese pole place and put in an order right from my cell phone. When my shift ended, I walked down to my Kia. Yes, my red Keir's soul was back, and I started it up. I sat there for a moment, checking the glove box in all of my compartments. It was still my Keir Soul. This time I took some pictures. Took photos of the Kear itself and all my documents.

I wondered if it mattered that all of the photos were digital, a moment. I thought about ordering an old Polaroid one step and some film like who had it as a kid. I drove to the Vietnamese place and picked my order up. And then I drove back to Austin. I cleaned up my apartment a little bit and texted Naomi that I was ready. She came by about an hour after I texted. I want to say about 8 o'clock or so. I asked the door and took her in for a moment. She looked at me with concern on her face. Jesus Christ my... She said as she walked through the door, when was the last time you slept and you looked like hell?

I shut the door behind her and locked it. I want to tell you it was last Monday night, but I literally don't know if that was real or not. I told her as I walked past her to the kitchen. Make yourself at home. She took off her coat and sat down on the couch as I grabbed the bag of pole from the kitchen. Can I ask you something?

I asked as I walked back to the living room. Of course, she said. I thought about the question. Um, what kind of car do I drive? I asked him. She gave me the look to end all other looks. You drive a Kia Soul, she responded flatly. It's a piece of shit.

You bought it off a car lot for a courier job that you took near King of Prussia a few years back. But the job ended up not panning out. Ever since then, that thing has broken. down in every way possible including the transmission the alternator and the fuel pump I keep telling you to get rid of it and you keep telling me that you put too much money into it why what kind of car do you think you are though her tone was condescending I breathed a sigh of relief yeah that's right thank God was all I could say as I opened the bag up and sat down near her what kind of card do you

you think you own? She asked me again. I tried to explain this in a way that didn't make me seem too far gone. I swear. I went down to my car at lunch and it was a Toyota Camry. The expression on Naomi's face maintained concern, but now she seemed a little weirded out. Okay, she began.

Why do you think you own a Camry? I got up off the couch and let out a sigh. What she said may be really angry and maybe I reacted poorly. I don't think I owned a Camry. I did own it. I responded curtly as I paced around the living room. Let me be clear. Something is happening to me that's literally changing my life.

Parts of it are being replaced or something. And it has a lot to do with this Tuesday thing. Naomi looked up at me. You haven't been sleeping lately, Mike. I know that. I shot back, interrupting her. You think I'm crazy, that's fine. That's why I asked you to come over, but I have to tell someone what the hell is going on.

Naomi looked away from me, down at the floor and nodded. So, what do you want to do then? I just want you to be here, I told her. I'll sleep on the couch, you can have the bed like I promised. I didn't do the laundry yet, but I have another sheet in the drawer. I just need to know if it's just me or not, okay? and I trust you. If I do something that I can't remember or whatever,

whatever you tell me, that's what happened. That's the truth. So, she started, looking back up at me. You're either kind of sleepwalking through Tuesday and really don't remember what happens, or you literally don't have them anymore, and part of your existence is being erased. I started to cry, and she hugged me.

That's the long. short of it. I sat into her shoulder as I choked on my own tears. I'll stay up tonight one more night. If it's Tuesday tomorrow, you confirm it with me. I'll go to Chester Crozier Hospital and ask for a 72-hour hold, I promise. If the lock is midnight and for whatever reason it's Wednesday, I really need your help. I won't know what else to do. Please, Naomi. I took my head off her shoulder and looked in her eyes waiting for an answer. She simply nodded. I'm going to need the clean sheet, she told me, tongue and cheek, as always.

I laughed, and then I opened the bag of pole. Oh, I forgot to ask, she said. Did you close those leads? And then it hit me. Hank? I still had Hank's index card in my backpack. I ran down to my car. leaving Naomi in the apartment and found my IKEA right where I always parted it within the complex.

I grabbed my backpack out of the trunk and threw it over my shoulder, then ran back up the building stairs. I hadn't even shut my apartment door behind me. She was sitting on the couch, bewildered. What? What was that all about? she asked me. My sales leads. I told her as I frantically dumped out my backpack. You just jogged my memory. I pulled Hank's index card out of the pile. It still had his information on it, including the phone number. I was overjoyed. Ah, perfect, I yelled, and grabbed my cell phone from my pocket.

Naomi shook her head. I'm still not getting it, she told me. I had dialed the number on my phone. As my sales leads, the ones I didn't remember generating. I called all three of them, I told her. When I got to this guy, Hank, he was. strange and hung up on me. I kept the index card that I found his info on because I had a hunch. A hunch? Naomi gave me another funny look. I nodded and pressed the button to connect the call.

Yeah, like maybe this guy was going through the same thing I was going through or talk to a different version of me or something. I pressed the button on the screen to connect the call to speakerphone and put the phone on the coffee table and we both waited for it to ring. it never ran we're sorry the automated voice said the number you have dialed is not in service i hung up and tried again i got the same result in a week hank's number had somehow been disconnected i fell back into the couch utterly defeated Why was the number disconnected? Naomi asked me and suddenly I found my strength again. Exactly, I said. Even if you think I'm losing my mind,

why would I make up a phone number and go out of my way to bring it home and call it in front of you? Why would I do any of that if I, well, if all this was just in my head? She thought for a moment and then she looked back at me, I think she realized what I was going through. "'Okay, so if I wake up here tomorrow and it's Tuesday, you'll get some help,' she reiterated. "'But if I wake up here tomorrow and it's Wednesday, then you were right.'

I nodded excitedly. "'Yeah, exactly.' Naomi let out of breath. "'Then what?' I felt all the energy drain from my body again. "'I don't know,' I told her. "'But two of us can tackle this better than one. one of us can she faintly smiled but now i could see the doubt in her face the worst thing that

could have happened at that moment did she was starting to believe me the rest of the night we ate dinner played video games and watched tv at 11 o'clock i didn't end up sleeping he changed the sheet on my bed and i found a fresh blanket too and Naomi set an alarm on her phone and went to sleep I grabbed my old blanket and went out onto the sofa. I threw it on the throw pillow and made myself some coffee in the kitchen. I was not going to sleep, not until I saw Tuesday. I only had about 40 minutes left to know for sure. I laid down on the couch and put the TV on.

I turned the volume down and activated captioning so I wouldn't wake Naomi up. The channel was tuned to a late-night talk show that I couldn't stand. I couldn't pay attention right now anyway, even if I'd wanted to. The coffee made me jittery, but at least I was awake. I thought about what Naomi had said to me earlier, before we ate. Then what? I tried to plan in my head, but the answer really is? I don't know.

Where's the precedent for this? What could I do? What if Naomi now lost her Tuesdays as well? What would we do? Where could we run? How could we fix it? I checked my phone for the time. 11.55 p.m.

Perfect. At least I'd have my answer. Any answer. Someone else would be here with me. I wouldn't have to go through this again alone. I put my phone down and hate watched a little more of the show. My eyes hurt, but I didn't want to blink. I checked my phone again.

1157 p.m. This was it. I took a deep breath and embraced myself. I stared at Hank's index card, which was still on the table. What happened to you, Hank? 11.58 p.m. I grabbed a pen and rode on the back of the index card, big enough for her to find. If I'm gone when you get up, know that I love you, Naomi.

My, I put the index card down on the table and brace for the end. I was sitting up now. No way I would sleep through my personal apocalypse. 11.59 p.m. I started hyperventilating. I kept my eyes on the show and tried not to think about it. 11.59 p.m. I studied the show and it was now frozen.

The host had his hand in the air with his mouth wide open. The captioning stopped halfway on the word acting. and simply read, I got up and looked around. I checked my balcony door that looked out over the parking lot of the complex. My Kia was gone again. Naomi, wake up, it's happening! I yelled as I ran to my jacket and pulled my car keys out. The car key had the Chevy emblem on it, sure enough.

I clicked the remote, and down in the parking lot, the Chevy Cruises lights flashed. I checked my phone to take a video. but none of the apps worked. 11.59 p.m. That wasn't right. It had to have been several minutes from the time it was 1158. Naomi!

I screamed from the living room, but she didn't answer. Naomi! I tried again as I got off the couch and ran to my bedroom. She wasn't in my bed. In fact, my bed was made with my old sheet on it, and there was no blanket. No, this isn't right. I started towards the living room again but stopped in front of my bathroom doorway.

I turned and looked in at the bathroom. I walked in and turned the light on and made my way to the sink. But my reflection wasn't in the mirror. I stared at it for a few moments. I waved my hand, jumped up and down. I was able to see my hallway behind me in the mirror. Just not me. I touched the mirror. It felt cool like glass. I didn't fall into it like Alice did. I just stood,

dumbfounded at my lack of reflection. 11.59 p.m. I ran back out to the living room and the picture on the TV was still frozen in place. I looked at Hank's note card. The message I'd written to now me wasn't there. I flipped it over and it was completely. blank. Hank's information was gone too. I looked out of my living room window. It was still dark outside and there was no sign of Naomi in the parking lot. 11.59 p.m. I grabbed my phone and went to my front door, ran into the hallway and down the stairs of my apartment building. I started to shout for Naomi, but I didn't get a response. I decided to take my new Chevy cruise, but of course, it didn't start it didn't even click or struggle like a dead battery or bad alternator just

didn't do anything was a shell of a car i yelled Naomi's name a few times and looked around but there was no answer in fact there wasn't any sound at all there were no insects no cars from nearby Penel road Pennsylvania Route 452 there was nothing all of the lights in the complex were off too, except for the parking lot lights. Not a single unit had its lights on. I had to squint to walk back to my own building, to make sure I was in the right apartment. I walked back into my unit, which did have the lights on still. But they weren't the right color. Something was off about them. Instead of my white, mini-fluorescent lamp bulbs, they were this sort of sickly yellowish green.

Why didn't I see them in the parking lot? Why had they changed colour? The TV was now just off and there was no picture. I tried the remote but the TV wouldn't turn on at all. Naomi, I yelled to no answer. 11.59 p.m. I went back to the bedroom. I tried all the lights in the apartment but only the living room lights worked.

My phone flashlight wouldn't work either. and I didn't have any spares around the place. Maybe I way around the bed, whispering Naomi's name, but from what I can tell, it was still empty, and the bed was made. I left the bedroom and tried the switches again, and this time the bathroom light came on, that sickly shade of yellow-green. Oh, I wish I hadn't turned that light on. 11.59 p.m.

I looked into the mirror, and there was a reflection. this time but I didn't recognize the person on the other side it was an older man late 40s or early 50s he was balding with a crown of brown hair on his skull he wore an ill-fitting brown suit glasses and a mustache he looked just as frightened as I once we actually mimicked each other's movements for a few minutes 1159 p.m but he turned and ran out of his bathroom into his apartment and I just stood there shaken. I waited for him a few more moments. I didn't know what I'd do if he came back but sadly the man in the mirror was my only ally at this point. When he didn't return I simply walked to the couch. I yelled Naomi's name one more time but she didn't

answer back. I sat down and then my television came back on and the host was sitting in his chair at his desk like always. But it was a different studio guest now. 12 a.m. Wednesday. All of my lights came on and returned to the daylight white colour I'd purchased at Home Depot years ago.

They just shifted to the original colour. My phone now worked again as well. It's Wednesday. I looked out of the window and down in the parking lot and there was my gear. Naomi, I yelled to the bedroom, but still there was no response. The index card was on the living room table still, but both sides of it were blank.

I ran back to the bedroom, but she wasn't there. I walked, defeated to my bathroom. I turned on the light, and sure enough, it was me in the mirror. I jumped up and down and moved my hands around, and all of my movements matched. and with that I went back to the living room and laid down on the couch. I held out some hope that Naomi would return. The cell phone. I checked through my recent calls.

I had called Hank and Naomi, and numbers had to be on my phone. I found what I thought was Hank's in my dialed numbers. Naomi was still in my contacts. I wrote them both down on the index card I had, took a screenshot with my phone, wrote the numbers down in several more places just in case. Then I wrote them down a few more times and tried my best to commit them to memory.

The lack of sleep caught up with me, however, and I laid back down on my couch and went to sleep. When I woke up, it was still Wednesday. I started by calling Naomi's number, which gave me the not-in-service recording that made my heart sink a bit. Then I tried Hank's number again. and this time it rang much to my surprise. A woman answered on the other end. Hello? she asked into the phone. Hi, I said, trying my best sound, my voice.

I wanted to talk to Hank. Is he available? There was a pause on the other end for a few moments. I don't know any hang, the woman told me, and frankly I don't want to. This is the sixth or seventh call I picked, up this morning that's asked for Hank. Just stop calling me. Wait, ma'am, please don't hang up. But she did

just that. Damn it, I had to find Naomi. There had to be some trace of her somewhere. I got dressed and left my apartment, the destination being Glenn Mills. I hadn't planned on going to work, but I figured I'd pay the office a visit.

When I got to the building, I parked and ran up the stairs. I didn't even bother. with the elevator. Winded, I opened the door to the fourth floor and walked into the company office. Everyone was in their respective cubicles, and the door to Steve's office was closed. I went to my desk without anyone acknowledging me. A picture frame wasn't there. In fact, my desk looked completely different from how I decorated it. I looked on the dry erase board. Where my name used to be. It now read

Matthew. Excuse me? Says someone behind me. This is a place of business. I turned around to see Steve looking right at me. Oh, hey Steve, I started. Steve squinted at me and looked taken aback. Who? He asked. My name's Madden. Are you sure you're in the right place?

What? I asked back. Yeah, I'm Mike. This is my friend. desk i said and pointed to my desk steve scoffed that's my desk he said condescendingly i stepped out to use the bathroom and again i'm matthew is this something i can help you with are you lost the others in the office turned and looked at me a few of them were different from the co-workers i knew i looked back at the dry eraseboard and they were actually a few different names on it from the ones I knew. Unglued. I turned back to Steve and I lunged at him.

Where's her picture? I yelled at him. What? What the hell are you talking about? Yelled back at me. Someone call 911. I had him by the collar and shoved him up against the far wall. I just felt hot and red at this point.

What did it matter anyway? The picture I keep on my desk, Steve, I yell back at him. Where the hell is it? I'm not Steve, he yelled back. Got someone get him off me. I felt someone grabbed my shoulder, and I threw an elbow that must have hit whoever it was in the face.

They let go, and I dropped Steve's collar. While they were checking on whoever I'd hit, I backed out of the office and ran down the stairs. I found my car in the parking lot and drove the hell out of it. I thought long and hard about all of it. I was running out of options. I pulled over and tried calling Naomi again, but her number came back with the out-of-service recording.

I hung up and looked back through my calls. I tried Hank's number, which went right to a voicemail now. The voice on the other end was that woman I'd spoken to this morning. I kept going through my calls and came across... Brian! That's right. Naomi was there with me. I texted Brian and asked him to meet me when we got off work at the Aston Diner.

He texted back, okay, and I started my car up and drove back onto Route 322. I board into the diner parking lot and just waiting. Hours passed, but eventually I saw Brian's old Ford Escort that was painted three or four different colors. I breathed a sigh of relief. I threw my door open and didn't even shut it and rat to the guy as he parked. Oh, boy, am I glad to see you, buddy? I yelled to him. Thanks, Mike, he said back. No doubt a little scared by my sudden reaction.

You ready to go in? Wait, I said, throwing my hands up. I can't find Naomi. Can you help me look for her? And he gave me that look that I was seeing way too often and couldn't deal with anymore. Who? and that one word dashed the last of my hopes. Hold on. She's in my contacts.

And I looked through my phone and her name and number were gone. Of course they were. Come on, man, I said, grabbing him by the collar like I did with Steve. You have to remember. She was at your birthday party. He shook his head. I don't know her, Brian replied. I've never known any Naomi.

him. Now, I don't know what's going on with you, Jake, but I'm going to need you to take your hands off me. Jake? I did take my hands off his collar. What did you call me? I asked him. I called you Mike. Your name? He responded. Really? Are you feeling okay, man? Ever since I got that call from you a few weeks ago. What call? I asked him. I don't know, he said again. You called me and just started screaming a bunch of nonsense at me when I picked up. Stuff about the other side.

You cried a lot. I tried to calm you down, but I had to hang up. You didn't even call yourself Mike. But it came from your number. You called yourself Troy, I think. I almost didn't text you back today. I just looked at him. Do you remember when, Brian?

I asked him. What specific day I called, and do you remember how long ago? "'Two weeks ago,' he replied. "'It was Tuesday. "'You texted me a little after that "'to ask about the wedding, "'but I was too freaked out to get back to you.' "'Why nodded?

"'Thanks, Brian,' I said back. "'Look, I'll see you around. "'I'm sorry that bothered you.' "'And I turned and simply walked to my car. "'But really, man, if you need some help or something,' "'I heard him yell from across the parking lots. I didn't bother to turn around. I just got in my kear and started it. I looked at him as I drove through the parking lot, and he just stared at me as I drove back down

452. When I got back to my apartment, the camera I ordered had come, funnily enough. I spent the rest of the day setting it up. That was the rest of my Wednesday. I did try Naomi's apartment on Thursday, but of course she didn't live there. her door code didn't work and a different renter answered when I used the intercom and the leasing office had no idea who I was talking about when I asked them about her and I've barricaded myself in my apartment since then

there wasn't any real point in doing anything I was phased out of my job I guess that would be the spin to put on it didn't feel much like eating I barely felt like I even existed I just laid on the couch and let the TV play while it was in service. Every day I called Naomi's number three times, hoping that just once she would answer. The calls never went through, though. I kept getting the same disconnect message every time.

I'm out of hope. Don't have any more ideas. I figured I'd just write it out until tonight, and then do what I planned to do several days ago. I'm going to film what happens at 11.50. If I'm here Wednesday, I'm going to upload the video to YouTube or Reddit or something and maybe I can help someone else who might be going through what I'm going through. After that I'm going to drive to Commodore Barry Bridge in Chester.

Take one last lookout at the Delaware River that I grew up near. I throw myself into the water. I'll let the river decide what's next for me. And wherever I end up, I do hope. Naomi's there. And so once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories and to you for taking the time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favor of you. Wherever you get your podcast from, please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again,

same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, Sweet dream, and bye bye.