The Big Bang

I stared at my window in horror, praying the evil would go away. Praying I could just get a good night's sleep. PRAYING the town’s cursed spell would vanish. The banging, crashing, and beaming of Zeus’s fury put me into sudden shock. My back shuddered, tingling with fear as if melting ice was pouring down it. My heart was stomping thousands of times inside my chest, and it was kicking at my ribs in fright. I burrowed myself in my mountain of covers, put on earplugs, and jammed them in using my Atlanta Falcons pillow. Then all was silent.

And then... it happened.

I peeked out at the window, my earplugs falling off at the exact moment. A blinding, white light flickered on from outside. I managed to get a peek through my window curtains and blinds from my bed. It was slowly stretching out to my basketball hoop I’ve been playing with for two years. The white cheetah, reaching for the last trace of food on Earth, hoping it wouldn't escape, was moving closer inch by inch. Staring at the light in shock, my eyes widened at the sight. They finally came into collision, and then...

Lightning flashed.

Thunder rumbled.

I cursed.

The sound lasted for

a

single

millisecond.

I sprung out of my bed, dashed to the lamp, and apprehensively turned on the light, gasping for breath. I couldn’t hear the fans. It was just a loud, annoying, and obnoxious ringing sound.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII...

It wouldn’t seem to stop, so I stomped once, but I didn’t hear a thing.

Cold blood trudged down my body as I stood there, deafened and horrified. Tears ran down my face and froze before they could fall off. Had I imagined it? Was my basketball hoop still there? Did the lightning evade it? Will I still be able to practice on it? The thought of failing tryouts overflowed my eyes, blocking my sight as if my adversary set up a barricade to block my view during the interesting part of a horror film. It was like a thousand notifications on Gmail filling up your screen while watching the final minute of Game 7 of the NBA Finals. I tip-toed over to my computer, hoping I could watch YouTube to erase my mind of the past twenty seconds.

As usual, no luck. No internet. I guess I shouldn’t be on there in the six hours after midnight anyway.

I sighed.