Dear Planet Earth,
I said goodbye to Diana today. I propped her up against a tree and said a few words about her out loud. I wept like a baby. I tried to remember everything she ever said to me, what defined her as a human being and how she became an important part of my life in ten short days.
When she was really starting to go yesterday, Diana said she was a fraud. She said her name wasn’t really Diana Sunday and she was never a student at UNLV. Phyllis O’Conner was just another deadbeat post-teen working at Blockbuster when the tremors started and she realized she could make herself whoever she wanted. She was sorry, she said. She said I didn’t have to blame myself for her death because she never really existed.
But things are never that easy.
I’m heading toward the mysterious object outside the city, just like Diana and I planned to do last week. Judging by the number of cars on the road, I’m not the only one.
The dust is starting to clear around it, showing some very weird features. I don’t know if this is a satellite, an alien spaceship, or even a time machine. I only know that whatever it is, it’s inextricably linked to these crazy phenomena all across the globe and those homeless people were willing to kill to keep us from it.
I checked the back of the Hummer today and found it filled with assault rifles, body armor, hand grenades, and plastic explosives. I’m a grieving, hormone-filled teen with murder on the mind. Those bastards better hope I run out of gas.