ByScott Gibbs, writer at Creators.co
Part-time writer, full-time horror fan
Scott Gibbs

Diary entries discovered shortly after the Northeast recovered from its second Happening.

Thursday, April 16th, 2015

I feel it’s important to document what happened to me today, if for no other reason than to let my family know it wasn’t my fault. I’ve recorded the events from this morning as accurately as I can remember them. Please don’t judge me too harshly.

I’m sorry.

8:04 AM

I’m standing in my kitchen waiting for the pot of coffee to brew. Nothing seems unusual, just a garden variety morning, until a thought seeps into my head. The idea feels completely normal: why don’t I just smash that glass pot against the counter and use the jagged edge to slit my wrists? Just do it. It would feel so good. I manage to shake off the feeling, embarrassed that such a thing could even enter my brain.

8:17 AM

Full of glorious caffeine I head on up to the bathroom to shave and shower. I’m standing in front of the sink, holding my razor and smiling at my reflection in the mirror, when I’m overcome with the urge to take the blade and plunge it into my neck. Just to watch the blood spurt and pulse down my chest. I even get the razor pressed against my throat until the pain makes me stop. What the hell is happening to me?

8:42 AM

I’m dressed and ready for another normal work day. In my bedroom, I’m standing in front of the mirror, putting the finishing touches on my tie, when I glance out the window. The ground two stories below is so beautiful it’s hypnotizing. The grass sways and dances in a gentle breeze. It’s calling to me. Jump out that window and come play with us, it says. Yes. I nod and press my forehead against the glass. I want to play with you so badly. There’s no time to go downstairs, just jump out the window. I get it pushed open and lean out. A trail of saliva falls from my mouth and snaps. I watch it fall to the ground below. I can feel myself smiling. The grass loves me, why wouldn’t I jump? Makes all the sense in the world. As I lean further and further out, until nearly my entire torso is on the other side, my balance nearing the point of no return, the window falls and bangs me on the small of my back. It hurts enough to bring tears to my eyes. And it also clears my head. The tears are streaming down my eyes as I slam the window and run downstairs.


9:01 AM

I can barely speak as my friend and coworker, Elliot (Mr. Moore to his devoted students), tries to calm me down. My hands are so slick with sweat and shaking so hard I have to press the phone hard against my ear. All I can manage to say is, “It’s happening again. Oh God, it’s happening again.”

Elliot says he’ll be over in 9 minutes.

9:10 AM

“Did you know that bees are disappearing all over the world?” Elliot asks me as I hand him a cup of coffee. “Isn’t that scary?”

“Right,” I say, my voice still shaking. “I think I’ve heard that before.”

“I mean, they’re just...vanishing. And nobody knows why. That’s pretty scary, right?”

“Elliot, these thoughts I’ve been having. I think it’s happening again.”

While waiting for Elliot to arrive I’d tossed my two houseplants out onto the front yard and closed all the windows. So far I hadn’t had anymore bad thoughts. With my mind clear again it really hit me how crazy I’d acted.

“I’m a science teacher, and people don’t seem to have much interest in science these days. If only people were more interested in science then maybe...maybe,” Elliot trails off and takes a sip of coffee.


10:00 AM

“I just can’t get over how many bees have disappeared from the planet. Just, poof! Never to return.”

We’d moved to the living room. I turn on the TV hoping to find some news about this latest outbreak. So far all I see are a couple of stories about Kim Kardashian’s latest nude photos.

Elliot continues, “And the scariest thing is nature can do whatever it wants. You can’t negotiate. I tried, believe me. I introduced myself to the bushes outside my house. I said, ‘Hello, my name is Elliot Moore. I’m going to talk in a very positive manner, giving off good vibes.’ I think it worked because they didn’t kill me.”

“Okay, Elliot, that’s great.” I have to interrupt because we aren't getting anywhere. I just need to know how to stop this madness. “So what do you think is causing this?”

Elliot leans forward on the couch so his elbows rest on his knees. He looks at me, his face a mask of intense concentration. He stares at the glass in my hand. He licks his lips. Great, now he's eyeing my lemon drink.

“So you don’t care what’s happening to the bees?” he asks. “You should take more of an interest.”

I'm about to object when a gunshot cuts through the air. It sounds close.

Elliot jumps and sits up. “Oh, no!”

I thank God I don't own a gun.


11:14 AM

I double-check the windows while Elliot is in the bathroom. Three glasses of delicious lemon drink had pushed his bladder to the limit. I don't know what to do. We’d heard three more gunshots and just a couple minutes ago we heard what sounded like a car smashing into a telephone pole, or maybe a tree.

Nature is getting angrier.

11:23 AM

Elliot decides to fry up some hot dogs. Food might make us feel better, he’d said. Hot dogs will really hit the spot. He tells me he’d heard somewhere that hot dogs get a bad rap, but they’re actually really good; and they have a cool shape, and lots of protein. I'm too tired to argue.

Two more gunshots pierce the otherwise tranquil day. Then I hear sirens in the distance.


11:45 AM

After Elliot returns from another trip to the bathroom (he thinks maybe the hot dogs had gone bad) he goes on about the bees again, and the fact that nature has this built-in defense mechanism when it feels threatened. I gnash my teeth and just nod.

“Will you excuse me, Elliot?” I say and head upstairs.

11:53 AM

I stare out the bedroom window. The grass and the plants are still there, two stories below. They seem to be smiling up at me, and waving. They are my real friends. They don't drone on and on about the bees. They don't care about the shape of hot dogs. They don't want to steal all of my precious lemon drink. I can still hear Elliot downstairs.

“And once all the bees are gone, forget it. I mean, once they’re gone…”

I open the bedroom window. The fresh air feels so good on my face. I close my eyes and breathe deep, savoring the sweet smell of nature. That’s where I belong. Nature just wants to be friends, to become one with me.

“...so the next time you see a bee buzzing around, you should take an interest. Science is such an important part of…”

This is better. Peace and quiet. Goodbye.

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