May 23, 2015 Saturday Morning
Entry Number 1
My name is Chris Metz, and this is my personal journal; I guess. As of right now, I believe myself to be the last slip of humanity, or as far as I can tell.
My day started out as any other day I have would, wake up, get moving, go have breakfast, yadda yadda yadda. Well, that was cut short as soon as I woke up. I woke up roasting, which was odd. I live in the Mojave Desert, where the heat is something you're forced to get used to. Along with the fact I felt like my bed was a personal sauna, I felt sick to my stomach, like I was about to heave. I threw off my covers, and fell out of my bed face first onto the carpet, (Having dark shades over your only window isn't the best idea ever.) That was when something else hit me. My bed didn't sit very high off the ground, only a few inches, but I still felt like I was barely hanging off the edge. I looked at my TV across the room from me, and from the small amount of light coming from my window, I saw something that made my heart skip several beats. It looked like an alien, a something rather than a someone.
As it turns out, that thing is me. Pulling myself from the bed and laying on my back, I looked down at my body. My hands and fingers were replaced by these flat, hard, hoof-like extremities, and my feet as well seemed to under go the same changes. My skin was covered in a short dark blue fur, which mostly explained why I felt like I was wearing a parka in summer in my bed. My hair color stayed the same brown (thank god) but had gone from being it's usual short to much longer, to point of flicking into my eyes more than once. From my rear end, I apparently had a tail now, but this was much poofier than horses I've ever seen. My night clothes seemed to stay the same size, which explains why I fell. They were easily more than a size to big now, and hindered more than they did help.
So after managing to bring myself to stand again, I noticed something off. It was quiet, deathly quiet in my home. I couldn't hear the TV out in the living room, nor the sound of birds of insects outside my window. Only the gentle hum of the swamp cooler coming from my air vent.
I just graduated high school, and still lived with my parents, but at 9:00 AM in the morning on a Saturday, save my father, would be awake and moving around right now, whether it be my little sister watching cartoons out in the living room, or my mother trying to cook something.
But there was nothing. It was like no one was home.
I tried standing on my back legs, but ultimately ended up walking on all four out into the hall. My hooves gave off a light clop sound against the hardwood floor, but was muffled by the pant legs dragging behind me. Was this how babies felt when they learned to walk? After a few attempts, and more than a few faceplants, I managed to fall into a sort of rhythm of walking, still hindered by my night wear.
I went out into the kitchen, and sure enough, the lights were still off, the pots and pans still tucked away in the cupboards. I must have shrunk down now, because the fridge seemed like a goliath, as I only stood as tall as a large house cat. The house still remained quiet, nothing but the hum from the vents.
Making my way back down the hall I checked my little sister's bedroom, only to find her bed still made and empty. I dashed into my parent's, only to find the same deal. I was alone in my house, like my family had just up and left, leaving me behind.
I made my way for the front door, which looked like the size of gate on a castle now more than a door on a house. I'll spare the details of figuring out how to A. Get the lock turned and B. Turn the handle itself. Thank god I have duct tape under my bed.
When I eventually got outside, I was greeted with a facefull of welcome mat, as it turns out hooves aren't really supposed to step over thresholds.
It seemed like any regular day, save the fact no lights were on in any of the houses, and even the birds seemed to have gone deathly quiet. The cars and trucks in the driveways were all parked, the only sound being the trees rustling from the soft breeze that seemed to constantly blow through Ridgecrest. As far as I could tell, I couldn't smell any smoke, or hear any gunfire, so the idea of the apocalypse was, for the moment until I could find some other explanation, shot down. I walked/trotted/whatever the heck you call it across the front lawn over to my neighbor's house. My nightclothes were stained, and I figured I could just wash it out later. I knocked on the door with a hoof, almost falling over. I've seen horses waaay bigger than myself stand on three legs to get there hooves picked out and stuff like that, but doing so in the flesh made me almost collapse like a drunken scotsman. I called out and knocked louder, but no body came to answer. The doorbell stood easily a foot and a half above my head, so that wasn't going to happen any time soon.
I went back into my own house, rushing to my laptop, and went straight to the internet. Note to self: Don't use hooves on a computer keyboard. I settled on using a pen with my teeth to push the individual keys, since hooves just seemed to press half the keyboard at once. Speaking of typing, if you're wondering how I'm doing this, I have my headset from when I tried using Rosetta Stone a few years back, and a talk-to-text on my computer. The head set barely fits and my hair just knocks it off, but I got on a tangent. It seemed though that the internet wasn't of much help, as everything seemed..normal. Like nothing had happened.
With this, I went from my room to the land line phone, and pressed in 911 with my pen. All I got was the answering-bot-thing claiming all their lines were busy. I made several other calls, to my parent's work numbers, my friends, even my more distant family. All that ever responded were answering machines and dial tones.
I've gotten to the point of praying I'm not truly alone in this...
Saturday Afternoon
Entry Number 2
My original statement is becoming more and more likely.
I went down the street, half calling for help, half pounding on people's doors. I did have to run a few times, as I was greeted by barking dogs of all sizes, the scariest being my across-the-street neighbor who has a rottweiler or something. My pants ripped, but I didn't care much, as I was mostly having a panic attack and an adrenaline rush. I don't know what happened, but no matter where I looked, every human being was gone.
I lived in a more commercial part of town, an Albertsons Grocery and a Walmart not far from here, so that was my next destination. It took a short walk to there, and at this point my clothes were trashed. I looked like a hobo or an alien. My trek to the two stores came to no avail.
Both were empty, almost completely devoid of life. The lights in the ceiling were still on, but no living human in sight still. The cars in the parking lot were empty as well, no drivers or passengers. The stoplights out in the street seemed still to be working, but none of the various automobiles moved.
Once again, really hoping I'm not just abandoned here in one of the hottest places in the world as a small technicolor horse-alien freak...