*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1344050-Cataclysm
by Ox
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1344050
What would you do if your parents didn't care about you?
         Few things are known about this life. Why your car won't start sometimes, how many licks it takes to get to the center of a lollypop, and what your shoe size is going to be. Probably some of this world’s most brilliant people struggle over these questions. Others just go on with their mundane life doing their job and hating life. This story is about mystery. Why do we put up with this behavior...it's because we are animals and need to be led to our destiny.
         It was a poor household I was born into. I never had anything and was pretty content with my life. I only had a father growing up. He told me my mother was the one who “brought home the bacon” and he was the stay home father. When I was three, she took a business trip to Europe and never returned. He was great at investing and had a great deal of stocks in this company called Google. We were pretty much set and he could afford to come up with crazy contraptions. This one time he made a frying pan out of a moose antler…don’t ask me how. No one really bothered me and I never had too many friends. Just making it through everyday just like the last; it was halfway though High School I met Nigma. He would teach me the simple pleasures...and that I was crazy.
         Our meeting was complete accident. It was an October morning and we had only been in school for a few months now. Heading toward my first period class when someone pulled the fire alarm, this was a common occurrence and I didn't pay much attention to it. I just ducked into a bathroom to hide for the half hour until they let everyone back in. There was someone else in here though.
         "Hey, are you hiding out for the bullshit alarm too?"
         "Depends who's asking. Are you Sven? If not I have nothing to say." The voice came from inside a stall. He was either really scared of something or was doing something illegal. I could give a shit less. He kind of rambled on and I stopped paying attention.
         First stall too. Damn, I had to walk past it. As I did, it became clear why it had smelt like something was burning. The door flung open with such force all I could do was stare in pure shock. He jumped at me and scorched my skin with a ring that was shaped like an "X" on it. I fell to the floor and he took off. Before he left the room he said something. Something I would have never forgotten.
         "You've been marked. Have a good life. You have two days so live them well!"
         Just like that he was gone. I started convulsing. I needed to find my inhaler before...

*    *    *

         I woke up the next day to sounds of the heart monitor and my dad gasping. It had been a close call. The firemen found me lying in the bathroom.
         "Shit."
         "Is everything alright Zeke? You gave me quite a scare. What were you doing in there anyway?"
         "Everything is fine. It's just I only have a day or so." I searched for the place where the strange kid seared my skin but to no avail. "Did you notice anything about me when I got in here?"
         "No. Same old kid that always has panic attacks and can't get to his inhaler in time. I swear I'm just going to make a mask for you to wear at all times. You'd look like a damn anteater all the time...but I wouldn't be as worried." My dad was always a kidder.
         "Do you think we can get out of here? I don't feel like being cooped up in a hospital on Saturday." I started to get up and my father helped me into a wheelchair. 'Hospital policy'...it was more like hospital bullshit.

*    *    *

         We finally made it home and I started writing a will...hell, I almost died once and I didn't want to risk it again. I had just touched the pen to the paper and noticed something move in the corner. I turned around and it was the kid sitting on my bed. He was playing with my Rubix Cube.
         "Sorry about yesterday. I was a little freaked out. My name is Nigma though. I hope I didn't scare you too much and I was only messing about that whole 'Two days to live' thing."
         "OH THAT'S JUST WONDERFUL! You know I spent the night in the hospital because you were having a good time? Thanks a lot asshole."
         "Chill out. It's a little funny if you think about it."
         "That's the funny part. You put someone in the hospital and you blow it off like it's no big deal. What the hell is wrong with you?"
         "I stopped to say I was sorry. You don't have to be a jerk." and with those words I caught a Rubix Cube with my head. I picked it up and he wasn't there anymore. I don't know how he did it but he would always be gone at the right moment.

*    *    *

I started to hang out with Nigma more after that. Yes, I did laugh about catching the Rubix Cube in the head. I just turned 18 and my father got me a new car. Not NEW new, but new to me. It was a tank. One of those from the eighties, steel deathtraps that were lucky to get 10 miles to the gallon, but it was mine! Nigma never wanted to drive but raced just about everyone we saw. We usually lost, but it was the thrill of the injunction. We started doing progressively worst things. It all started with a pack of bubblegum. Nigma had stolen it when were in line getting "supplies". Toilet paper, saran wrap, butter, syrup...oh yes, the seniors were going to have a wonderful time getting into their cars the next day. From there we took up smoking. This led to drinking. Which led to smoking other stuff and soon after there wasn't anything we were doing that was legal.
         These illegal actions eventually led to the most disastrous prank we tried to pull. It would eventually leave me broken. These are the things that happened on that day.

*    *    *

         I awoke with one eye open glancing at the alarm clock which read 7:04. Nigma was staring straight at my face. He always felt that if someone was looking at you that you could feel their eyes on your soul. It always freaked me out and I jump about three feet off my bed from being so startled. The day has finally arrived that we've been waiting for and planning the last month for. It was time to mess the people at McDonalds.
         Nigma, a few other friends, and I left my house approximately 10 o’clock. I am kind of blessed that my dad doesn't worry about me too much and keeps enough money in my pockets so I don’t have to worry about it. This gave us the freedom to upkeep our ‘internet company.’ I say ‘internet company’ because it’s just a site where we put up pranks that we've pulled on other people. Today is the granddaddy of them all. The premise is we are going to act like we hi-jacked an armored vehicle and stop to get some burgers before we head for the border.
         We are all wearing the uniforms we bought off the internet. They are untucked and ruffled to give the look that we put them on in a hurry. My friend Frank's dad owns an auto-body shop and three times a year they get the armored vehicles from the government for their routine oil changes and maintenance. We paid his dad $500 to let us take a truck and pull this prank. Half an hour with the truck was all we were allotted. We pulled up, switched vehicles, and the prank was about to commence.
         It was supposed to be a good time...we weren't asking for this...

*    *    *

         We pull up to the window. This particular McDonalds is dated in the fact that it doesn't have an order microphone. You simply pull up to the window, give your order, pay, and wait for the food.
         "Hello, would you like to try the McRib? Only here for a limited time and SO very good!" She hated her job. Everyday pretending to be so happy…I couldn't do such a tedious task. I don't wish that fate on anyone.
         "No thanks," glancing over to Nigma, who was sitting in the passenger seat. "How much we got back there, about 3 million...what can we get with 2 million?"
         She had kind of a shocked look, trying to figure out if I was being serious.
         "Just kidding, we would like 3 Big Mac meals, all with Pepsi, and 4 apple pies"
         "Will that be all?"
         "Hang on a minute." I turned around and shouted into the back, "Hey, ask them if they want anything." You could here suppressed shouts. This was going to be great. Lowering my voice just slightly now, "You'll have to take the tape off their mouths and ask them."
         You could hear the tape rip off their mouths. "HELP US! WE'VE BEEN..." Jake covered Frank's mouth and sealed it with duct tape.
         "Could you throw a couple happy meals on that order too?" Winking and giving here that fake smile she was giving me, the concern showing on her face now. "Could you hurry on that order? We have an appointment we have to keep."
         "I'm calling the cops!"
         "Don't do that...WAIT. How much would it cost..." My pleas were falling on deaf ears. She was playing right into our hand. We knew how much time we had. I played it up too. I knew that drama course would come in handy. She was on the phone. I looked from side to side nervously. Threw it into drive and took off as fast as I could.
         "Did you get her facial expression? Oh my god it was priceles..." I never got to finish that sentence.

*    *    *

         I woke up two months later. Looking around I didn’t notice anything. It didn’t look like a doctor’s office. A few hanging lights lit this dim room. It looked like some damn horrible slaughter house with the doctors wearing cheap masks that they obviously got at a supermarket. The doctors explained to me there was no way I would have had enough time to react to the small Miata with a mother and child in it. He even showed me the newspaper article. “Local Pranksters Kill Mother and Daughter.” I felt horrible because the armored truck ramped the compact vehicle like something straight off of Dukes of Hazzard. Jake was alright and had minor bruises at this time. Frank died on impact.
         "Is Nigma alright?" I noticed then that my arms were strapped to the bed.
         "Zeke, we have something to tell you. You've been suffering from psychosis your whole life. We never thought it was a big deal because the most harmless thing you would do was talk to yourself. This 'Nigma' was never real. There are no records of him at all. Your condition has never been a problem...until now. You killed two people son. You were in a coma for the last couple months and your dad signed a release terminating your life. He won't find out you woke up..."
         I started struggling and it was no use. My body had become inactive for a couple months and I had no control of anything. I cocked my head to the side and saw my father. Why did he stand in the corner without a look of concern on his face? He was about to watch his only son die…or maybe that’s what he wanted. I could only look on with horror to what was going to happen…at least Nigma was there to hold my hand...          
© Copyright 2007 Ox (samuraiox at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1344050-Cataclysm