Emily knew something was wrong the moment she heard the beep of her alarm. The pitch of the beep was a semitone higher than it was supposed to be. And the pace of the beeps was somehow off, beeping every other second instead of every second. There was also the disquieting scent of metal and alloy fragments that were tiptoeing up to her nose, and there was frigid cold air rising below her palms. Her body was also unusually rigid, as she had to force herself just to wiggle her toe.

She attempted to turn over and get up when she stopped cold with shock. Her right arm was leaning on the bedside table clutching a round, bullet-shaped object. Her eyes widened. There was a bomb in her hands.

“Don’t panic,” she frantically whispered to herself, “don’t panic.”

She stared at the ceiling, then at the lights, and then scanned the room. She looked at anything except her hand. Laying in her bed motionless, still as a statue, she tried not to remember that something deadly was in her hand; and yet she of course felt the icy metal pressed against her curved fingers. She also knew that the moment she loosened her fingers, the bomb would be set off and she would be turned into pink mist.

She continued hesitantly reassuring herself. “Deep breaths, deep breaths.”

She found that her breathing slowly aligned to the rhythm of the beeps. The beeping didn’t stop, but it began to get slower. Her eyes squinted, and she shriveled her nose in disbelief. She tried opening her mouth, struggling to even move her vocal chords and let out a scream for help. But all she could manage was a shakily small whisper.

Of course no one heard her. No one came. She would have to deal with this alone. She noticed that the bomb was turning from icy cold to a brittle burning warm, as if a hand was caressing a growing campfire. The disbelief of what was happening hit her as drips of cold, sticky sweat stained her back. The beeping continued to slow down. Her whole body trembled and shook in fear, more than it ever did before. Her hand felt numb and was by now in so much pain, as the heat from the bomb kept increasing. She couldn’t do this anymore. She tried to imagine her options, but this just led her to being filled up with fear and trepidation. She shut her eyes, then opened them. There was only one thing left to do.

One of her tears dropped onto the bomb as she opened her hand.

The beeping stopped.

That one moment of silence was a relief, as the irritating beep that had caused her so much trouble was now gone.

Those were Emily’s last thoughts before she stopped breathing and pink mist splattered the room.