I’ve just woken from a dream where we were having a party at our flat. We and our guests had been virus tested and it was the first time we’d seen anyone since March 4th. They must have stayed over as it was morning, and everyone was asking for McMuffins, but we weren’t sure it was safe or if the drive through was open. At least one person from on here was there.
People were slowly disbanding, when Russell said that he was going off with some friend (I think it was Winston from 13 Reasons Why), in his car to his house. The virus had made the world a desolate wasteland outside, so I was upset, because how was he going to get home? On the plague bus? He shrugged and shh’d me so Winston didn’t hear, and left. Then my Nan, who I’d not noticed until then, fainted. I tried to fix her. Time jumped forwards, everyone had left. Russell returned. He was drunk and stupid. He grabbed Darwin and spun him around, kissed him over. He was covered in cigarette butts and old wrappers, like he’d been in an actual gutter, and he was now smothering our little boy. I pulled him away, got upset and sent him to shower.
He sobered up and returned. My Ma was there, and nan, Russell and Darwin. I said I couldn’t take it any more and was going for a walk.
I got my mask on, and went.
I walked through the arboretum. It was empty as most people had died. The bowling green had gone because nobody used it as elderly people were the only ones that ever bowled, and they’d replaced it with play equipment, as the young had been the ones who had survived. It was empty, though. The play equipment was also absolutely huge, to the point that it was scary.
I passed by someone slumped at the foot of a tree, face eaten away, and couldn’t tell if they were dead or dying. They groaned. It was a horrible think to hear.
I hurried on through the park and ended up in the high street of a seaside. I’m not sure which, but I think it was Brighton. It was bright sunshine and REALLY busy. I was panicked because of being stuck shoulder to shoulder with so many people. I put my head down and tried to get through.
Eventually I came to the train station, or so I thought. It was tiny. Like the corridor alongside the little compartments of an old fashioned train carriage, all beautiful dark wood, all warm and homely, but there was a woman in front of me coughing. I got to the ticket window and a absolutely lovely young person explained no, I was two miles away from the ticket station I was looking for, I was just at a local railway. I said ok, thank you, I could walk, I must have got lost. We both giggled, and I left the station.
Outside it was now black. Darker than any night. I could not see 4 inches in font of mr, but could just about sometimes make out the faintest glow behind the inky black clouds. Suddenly there was a flash and the whole world went white. I was knocked flat off my feet and into my back, but didn’t land. I was just hovering there. Couldn’t feel my body or where I was in space. There was no sound. I was waiting for the thunder, but it never came. I was waiting for the thud as I hit the ground, but I never did. I wasn’t falling, just suspended. Then I realised that I must have been hit by lightning and was going to have to realise that I’d died. And I woke up trying to come to terms with that.