The Disaster Diaries: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Apocalypse (6 page)

I pulled myself out of Isabella and jumped off the
bed. My clothes were scattered all over the bedroom floor. I pulled on my
boxers, located my trousers, and slipped on my shoes. I was looking for my
t-shirt and jacket, as Isabella opened the bedroom window and looked down
towards the side of the house.

‘You have to be joking?’ I asked her.

‘This is the only way out.’

‘We are on the second floor.’

‘You can go down the drainpipe.’

‘I’m not fucking Spiderman!’

I could hear footsteps heading up the stairs towards
the landing.

‘Damn it.’ I picked up the rest of my stuff and
launched it out the window. ‘I don’t believe you have done this to me.’ I swung
one leg out the window and looked down to the passageway below. It looked
pretty far away. I have never been a fan of heights to start with, but this was
insane. A drainpipe was positioned next to the window. It was a bulky looking
one. It looked easy enough to grip, but if it would take my weight was another
question altogether.

‘You have to go,’ said Isabella.

I reached for the drainpipe. It was time to make my
grand escape.

Chapter
Twenty-Three: Going to Hell

***

The drive home felt like the longest in my life. How
could she do this to me? I have never cheated on anyone in my life. I would
never have gone out with her if I knew she was married. It went against all my
morals in life. It was an evil and horrible thing to do. I am totally going to
hell for this. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t know she was married. I am going
to burn in hell. I did very naughty things with a married woman. Does she have
kids? How could she do that to her husband? I feel so dirty and violated. I
can’t believe she lied to me like that. Was I nothing more than a play thing? I
thought she actually liked me. I am such an idiot. She doesn’t like me. I mean,
look at her. Isabella looks like a model and she just wanted someone to fuck.
She lied and manipulated me.

My cell phone bleeped on the passenger seat.

It was a new text message.

It was from Isabella.

I kept one eye on the road, as I read it. ‘I am so
sorry about tonight. I know I should have told you that I was married. Things
are not great with the marriage. I know I should have told you. Don’t hate me.
I will call you in the morning and explain everything.’

‘Fuck off,’ I told the world in general.

How could she do this to me? What have I done to
deserve this? I really liked her. I actually thought this was a new chapter in
my life. I took a leap of faith and opened up to her. Isabella knew things
about me that I hadn’t shared with anyone else. I thought she was the same as
me, but all she has done is manipulated and used me. Fuck her. Fuck everyone. I
hate the world. I hate life. I hate people.

Chapter
Twenty-Four: Contact

***

This was the last thing I needed. My eyes scanned
the e-mail from my publisher. It was an e-mail from the head of the whole
publisher. They had taken the time to write their thoughts and opinions about
my leaving. It was borderline hate mail. It was a lovely surprise to cap off my
shitty evening. The publisher was keen to point out how I had a poor attitude,
I was unprofessional, and summed it up by telling me to go fuck myself. They
didn’t exactly use those words, but it was the general gist. I wouldn’t even
bother with a reply. They would contact me in a day or two and return to rights
of my books.

The majority of the e-mails in my inbox were spam. I
had a bad habit of signing up to numerous websites, which mean I got every
single promotional e-mail and junk message you could imagine. One e-mail caught
my eye. It was from Brendan Holmes. He was the guy from the prediction forum.
He was the guy that posted the painting of Lucy and me. I opened up the e-mail.

‘Dear Logan, please forgive my scepticism about your
e-mail. You seem genuine, but I get a lot of prank e-mails from people on the
forum.’ I didn’t doubt that. The majority of the replies to his forum posts
were insulting. The other psychics didn’t rate him, but I can’t deny that
painting he posted. ‘If you would be so kind to tell me a little about the
things you see. I have numerous paintings. I think if you could say something
that I have painted I might be inclined to believe you. As a sign of good faith
I have attached a painting I did this morning. Brendan.’

I clicked on the attachment.

It took a second to download.

‘Oh my god...’

This was it. This was what I have been waiting for.
I could feel the tears gathering within my eyes. I had begged for confirmation.
I needed a sign to know that I wasn’t mad. I never understood why I was the
only one that knew about the end of the world. For a long time I just sat in
silence and stared at the painting. It was the image of my ex-girlfriend
Samantha. She was dressed all in white, like she was some kind of angel. In her
hands she held a baby. Its little arms were raise into the air, as if it were
reaching up towards the heavens. Blood dripped out of Samantha’s eyes. The
painting was identical to the dream I had last night. Brendan had seen the
exact same thing as me. It was time to tell him everything I knew. This
confirmed one thing. In four days the world would end.

Chapter
Twenty-Five: Regrets

***

I splashed the cold water upon my face and then
looked into my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My eyes seemed full of
sadness and regret. I still couldn’t get over Isabella. How could she not tell
me she was married? How could that one bit of information slip her mind? I felt
like a real scum bag. I should have stayed in the bedroom and allowed her husband
to beat the shit out of me. I deserved it. It wasn’t just Isabella, though. My
whole life was a mess. Was leaving the publisher really the right thing to do?
Had I been too impulsive? I should have given myself more time to reflect on
matters before asking to leave. It wasn’t a decision I had to make so quickly.
The image of Samantha and the baby appeared within my mind’s eye. Why did she
do it? I loved Samantha with all my heart. I had never been so happy in all my
life. Why did she have to kill our baby? I should have my own family by now. My
thoughts drifted to Clarissa. Maybe my mum was right. I should really have made
an effort with Clarissa. She is most likely on all fours getting taken from
behind. That is the type of woman she is. She is lovely and kind, but a
complete slut. I can say that. She is my best friend. I just wish she was with
me. I know Clarissa would never betray me, but now it is too late. She will be
back together with Tyler. My life is a fucking mess.

Chapter
Twenty-Six: Nightmares

***

My heart was beating so hard that it felt like it
might burst out through my ribcage. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. A
cold shiver ran down the full length of my spine. The atmosphere felt so tense
and morbid. The stench of death seemed to hang over me like some kind of foreboding
rain cloud. The edges of my vision were blurred. I glanced down at my hands.
They were dripping in blood. Unconsciously, I wiped my hands against my shirt.
Panic was starting to set it.

‘The end is coming,’ spoke a soft female voice.

I looked into the darkness that surrounded me. It
was like I was floating in deep space. There was nothing around me. I could see
no ground, no sky, no buildings or structures. I was in a black void of
nothingness. A faint click reached my ears. It sounded like someone pulling on
the cord of a bathroom light. A light bulb, appearing to hang from the
darkness, illuminated a small section of the void. My eyes widened with shock.
A sickening sensation filled my stomach. A dead body lay upon the ground. The
head had been crushed. Blood, snot and brain matter dripped out like some kind
of leaky tap.

‘Logan, look what I have,’ said Samantha. My
ex-girlfriend was standing behind me in the darkness. She was wearing a long
white dress. The dress seemed to glow. It was like the very fabric was created
by light. She held a baby within her arms. I could feel my heart breaking, as
the baby cried. I could see its little hands reaching up into the air. I
watched in horror, as tears of blood dripped out of Samantha’s eyes and fell
down upon the baby. This wasn’t like normal tears. It was like watching someone
pour a cup of red paint down her face. The baby was drowning in the blood. ‘I
killed my baby for you. It was all for you. I love you, Logan.’

A gunshot rang like a church bell.

I spun one hundred and eight degrees and looked in
the direction of the sound.

I nearly vomited.

A man was sitting in a leather chair. His face had
been completely removed. All that remained was blood, gore, brains and bones.
His lifeless body was sitting limp, as a smoking gun hung with the grasp of his
hand. Had this man just shot himself in the face? Why would he do that? What
was going on here? What did this mean?

‘The world will end in three days.’

Chapter
Twenty-Seven: Exhaustion

***

A deep yawn escaped my lips, as I cradled my cup of
coffee. Lucy cuddled into me on the couch. It was half seven in the morning. I
didn’t like mornings. I liked sleep. My dreams were hindering my ability to
have a good night’s rest. I just felt so drained and lifeless today. I think it
was a combination of things. The new dream was disturbing me. I didn’t get what
it all meant. Why did I keep seeing dead bodies? How come Samantha and the baby
were in my dreams? Who was the man that shot himself in the head? None of it
made sense. I didn’t quite understand how it all linked together. Isabella was
also on my mind. She had tried calling me this morning, but I had ignored her
on both occasions. I didn’t have the energy to listen to her lies. I can’t
believe she did that to me. I think I am so upset because I actually thought
she liked me. It is like every woman I meet seems to screw me over in one way
or another.

Lucy rested her chin on my leg.

‘You don’t screw me over, do you?’

She wagged her tail, as I stroked behind her ears.
Lucy was the only good thing in my life. She would never stab me in the back or
lie to me. I turned my eyes towards the news report. It was the usual nonsense
about debt, global crisis and celebrity gossip. The world was going to end in
three days. I was expecting something to have happened by now. There should be
something like an incoming asteroid, or a nation threatening nuclear war, a
terrorist attack with biological weapons, but the world seems to continue
forward like it was any other day. I would believe that maybe my predictions
were wrong if it wasn’t for Brendan’s paintings. How was it possible for him to
dream the same things as me? I needed answers. I needed to know what was going
to happen.

Chapter
Twenty-Eight: Slow Day

***

I was now onto my third cup of coffee of the day.
Lucy had followed me upstairs and was now sprawled out on my bed. I was
checking through my e-mails. Brendan hadn’t replied to the e-mail I had sent
him last night. That wasn’t very surprising, as it was fairly early in the
morning. I should check about mid-day and see if I have anything from him. My
publisher had sent me another e-mail in the night. They would post out a letter
stating that I had the rights to my stories. They also informed me that it
could take up to six months for my books to be removed from retailers. I was
fine by that. I knew it wasn’t going to happen overnight. I just wanted a clean
start and to focus on the stories I wanted to write.

My cell phone began to ring.

I glanced at the name upon the screen. It was
Clarissa.

‘Hello.’

‘Good morning, Logan. How did your night go?’
Clarissa seemed cheerful today.

‘You don’t want to know. How did yours go?’

‘It went alright.’

‘Did you stay over?’

‘No. I wasn’t even tempted. Tyler seems to be
trying, but I don’t believe that he has changed. It is weird in a way. I didn’t
really feel any emotions for him when I was sitting with him. I think I might have
already moved on. I don’t know.’

‘It sounds like you have.’

I don’t know why, but I actually felt good that her
date hadn’t gone well. I didn’t like the idea of Clarissa going out with Tyler.
Should I ask her to go out with me? What would she say? Clarissa is the only
woman that has ever stuck by me.