Doomsday By Design

You're paranoid, they said.

As they always said... ignorant sheeple, surrounding her in this class, metal chairs all facing in one direction, usually with the sheeple they contained either hypnotized by a bright computer screen, or their attention compelled by the standard brainwash spewing from the teacher's mouth.

Sick, she thought, scowling.

It was a deep, profound day, here in school... and, for some odd reason, Sandra found herself feeling more than usual. No particular feelings... just the sensation of feeling seemed more intense today... with each glance at the bright sun outside the enormous window, casting a glare over the small city, sunlight bleeding into the room, with each negative thought that arose in her upon looking at a particular class mate she disliked, upon each idea that erected in her mind regarding what she could write on her current assignment...

Mr. Knowles had assigned the class to write a full-page essay about modern economy.

Sandra understood certain things about the economy that her teacher refused to grade as "real knowledge."

Only the history and facts presented in the text books of public schools are "real knowledge."

Everyone knows that.

Sandra racked her brain, attempting to formulate a way she could twist this assignment into an apocalyptic survival guide somehow...

The Modern Economy--And How It's Rigged For Collapse

She stared at the letters on the page after she wrote them, wondering just how it would affect Knowles once he read it. The thought of it made her smirk.

If there was anything she cared deeply about--which said a lot, because Sandra was generally a pretty cold and careless person, the way she saw it--was hammering the conspirator's side of learning into her teacher's mind.

She quite liked Mr. Knowles, despite having engaged in countless arguments and even a few physical confrontations with him. No, she never punched him... she did once, however, throw a desk across the room at one point the previous year.

Sandra swiped the blood-colored hair from her face, tilting her head, her pencil now tearing her paper up, her hand moving a mile a second. Her hair was dyed a deep, shining crimson red, with streaks of pitch black, and it was rather short--very short in the back, with two long red-and-black bangs in the front, parted unevenly. Bordering her pale, slightly round, and perfectly shaped face, it looked flawless. She might even be considered beautiful, if she didn't always wear such a sour, hateful expression, her oceanic eyes portraying the upmost of a cold, instant dislike of anyone who dared to meet them, both of them lined with smoky silver-and-black make-up and spider-like black mascara. If her eyes and hair didn't say it all, she had the black clothes, chains, black nails, spiked collar, and anarchy wristbands to make the message all the more clear; she was not your average girl.

Lost in thought, time was beginning to escape her... and she considered actually writing facts about the current economy on her paper, before turning it into a doomsday survival guide... how the supposed current pandemic was causing larger cities around the states to declare states of emergency,. how violent protest have broken out due to the new gun control laws, how many things pointing to an economic collapse have been happening recently...

Maybe not, she thought. I've been waiting forever for the s*** to hit the fan. I'm really starting to think it's never gonna happen, no matter how bad it gets...

Sandra couldn't have known how wrong she was.

Some time passed...

BRIIIIING.

The bell sounded, and the students all stood, making their way for the door.

Sandra was sure to let all the others clear a path before she stood, then headed for Knowls' desk.

She set her paper on his desk, then quickly turned, hoping to get out of the room before--

"Hold on." Knowles' voice halted her.

Sandra grimaced. Damn it.

"Come here." Knowles told her, waving her towards him.

Sandra faced him, then stood on the opposite side of his desk, looking annoyed.

Knowles handed the paper back to her.

"I''m not accepting this." He told her in a displeased tone.

"Why?" Sandra asked, sounding offended, though she very well knew the answer.

"I told you, no more of this." Knowles said, his hazel eyes fixed on her cerulean ones. He swiped a strand of his stringy brown bangs from his eye shot, out from under his transparent, egg-shaped glasses. "This isn't what I assigned. This isn't work."

Sandra didn't speak. After a moment, she took the paper from him, her expression grave.

Knowles slid his fingers between one another, his hands placed together in somewhat of a praying position, pressed against his chin, looking down, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the desk. He was a big guy... not fat, or muscular... just... big. Wearing that thick, formal brown suit, he looked like a big bear.

"You're going to have to stop this." He said seriously. "You're very intelligent, you just need to follow the guidelines. Do you want to fail this class?"

Sandra shrugged. "I don't care." She told him honestly.

"You need to care." He told her, raising his brows. "You're gonna regret it if you don't graduate."

"No, I won't." Sandra said to him. "I don't care what I do. And I don't care what happens to me."

It was true. Sandra didn't care for a career, or for any job at all, really... she'd most likely end up living alone in a trailer, with a crappy part time job, and eventually, she'd grow old and die. What was the point in wasting time on an education of lies? Why become part of such a detestable system, in such a corrupt world? Sandra much preferred to live without purpose...

Living without cares made living so much easier.

The only real skills she had was to debate on online conspiracy forums, get enraged, and steal music players and money from the school's locker room.

"Why can't you accept anything other than what you want me to write?" Sandra asked.

Knowles' gaze rested on her.

As he watched her, his serious expression seemed to mold into the slightest, faintest expression of compassion, of empathy... staring into her eyes... What am I gonna do with her?

"I'm not allowed to." Knowles told her honestly. "Now... I've told you before." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "If you need some extra help with anything, you can stay after class. You and I can talk person to person... you won't be distracted by everyone else..."

"That doesn't matter!" Sandra declared, frustrated. "I don't need extra time. I NEED a damn school that ain't full of ignorant ******--!"

"Sandra." Knowles hissed. "Stop right there." He held up an index finger, and she silenced.

"You can't. Keep. This. Up." He told her forwardly.

Sandra had enough.

Huffing, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her, sending a great, bellowing echo bounding off the walls of the hall.

(That's it for part 1. This is going to be another SHTF story, and I'm turning it into a novel. Enjoy!)

~I like ~

...now, go throw another desk...

Wavering through the crowd of ghetto holligans, she hoped dearly that no one would attempt to meet her eyes, to notice her, to burden her with the complication of conversation...

Many people here disliked her, and she'd received a lot of bullying... that's not to say she never put up a fight, but she didn't particularly like confrontations... and, over the eighteen years of her life, the years of bullying taught her three things; Be invisible. Be untouchable. Be worse than your enemies.

Then, not a soul would dare target you.

Knowles seemed to empathize with her, and often cut her slack when she broke the rules. Still, because Sandra was, more often than not, extremely angry, she didn't always see when he'd be flexible with her.

Oh, how she wished something spectacular would happen, to free her from the cage of society, to release her from her suffocating routine...

God, I hate this place.

It didn't take her long to eat her lunch. Sandra finished her meal off in under five minutes, then quickly snuck out of the mess hall, away from the hundreds of teenagers, crowding her bubble, breathing her air...

As she marched down the empty hallway by her lonesome, her thoughts began to catch up to her. Anger, always anger... it was her fuel. Her passion. Her purpose for life.

It had been quite a while since she was able to feel anything apart from immense anger. So long, she couldn't remember when...

Her uncle, she knew, was waiting at home for her today, because today, he had nowhere to go. So, she had no hope of sneaking out of school and walking home for some alone time.

Images from hours ago played through her mind... she remembered everything that happened this morning...

"Sandra!" Her uncle, Adrian, had called.

Sandra bit her lip, irritated. She was on her way down the drive way, having gotten dressed, eaten breakfast, and prepped herself for school without knowing where her uncle was... but when she heard his voice call seemingly from nowhere outside, she knew exactly where he was.

Down the grassy hill to the left of her uncle's gravel drive way, there was a small dirt trail, leading further down the hill, next to the forest. It lead to a great, metal door, a door that looked as though it was growing out of the dirt from the side of the monstrous hill. This metal door, she knew, lead to Adrian's bunker.

Sandra stepped off the drive way, standing at the top of the hill, overlooking the forest and fields... and just down the trail, there Adrian stood, just outside of the metal door.

"Come here!" He said excitedly, waving to her. "Come here!"

Sandra flushed, releasing a sigh... then marched slowly down the hill, crunching on the autumn leaves as she went.

As she approached Adrian, she noticed that he was grinning broadly, his two long, brown bangs lining the sides of his face, his glasses crooked, that long brown ponytail still lying on his back, and his hands in the pockets of his dirty white jacket... a jacket that looked very much like a lab coat.

Adrian scratched the stubble on his chin, staring at the metal door.

"I've made dynamite." He said, nodding to himself.

Sandra was quiet. That's great. Can I leave now?

"I want us to try it out when you get home today." Adrian told her, just as she feared. "I think we can establish some mine areas around here..." He gestured to the fields and trees in the distance.

"Okay." Sandra said. There goes my afternoon.

"I already set some up down there." Adrian told her, placing a hand on her shoulder, pointing out to a small object in the field. "See it?"

"Yeah." Ugh. God.

"I'm gonna wait until you get home to blow that up. In fact... I want you to do it." Adrian told her, glancing at her, smiling.

"Fine." Sandra said coldly, shrugging.

Adrian studied her.

"What's wrong?" He asked, knowing what she'd say.

"Nothing." She replied tonelessly.

Adrian took a moment, silent. The same vacant answer she'd always reply with...

"Can I go now?" Sandra asked, eager to get somewhere where she could be alone.

"Well... you don't have to be there until eight. It's only seven. It's not a long walk, I just wanted to show you how this works--"

"I don't want to." Sandra said sharply, growing annoyed.

Adrian looked at her.

"It won't take long, I promise. Just--"

I don't WANT to!" Sandra snapped.

Then, she turned and began stomping up the hill and out of sight, without giving her uncle a single look back.

Adrian watched her go.

As the scene rolled through her mind like a dramatic movie, guilt began to fester in the pit of her stomach... a feeling she despised more than anything... yet, she seemed to feel it pretty often...

Sandra stopped, placing her fingers against the cold glass, watching her town outside. A small town, it was... she could walk nearly anywhere she needed to go... still, she hated the place. She had no real reason why... she simply hated the place.

Just as she did everything.

Adrian, her uncle, was quite the eccentric doomsday prepper... and she grew tired of him, always trying to involve her in his plans, making her shoot his guns, trying to teach her things she either knew already, or things she didn't care to know... and always so enthusiastic about it, too... God, what a pest he was...

I don't have any reason to feel bad. Sandra thought bitterly. He's the pest. Not me.

Something just outside of the window caught her eye, yanking out of her thoughts.

Sandra squinted, staring out the window.

Across the street from the school was a roving gang of thugs, their shorts sagging halfway down their legs, yet still, amazingly, they were running at top speed down the street.

Must be some of the idiots from this school, trying to run home in the middle of the day.

Such a thing wouldn't be unusual, she knew...

One of the boys stopped, whipping around, shoving his hand straight down the front of his pants. At first, it looked rather gross. Ugh, what is he grabbing?

The young man pulled out a small, metal object... something Sandra was able to recognize at once.

A gun.

Sandra's heart skipped.

She narrowed her gaze, staring out the window in disbelief.

What...?

The man aimed--

BANG. BANG BANG. BANG.

Sandra jumped, leaping away from the window in shock, her back slamming against the opposite wall, hands placed on the wall, nails digging into the paint...

She didn't know who they were, who the man was, who he was shooting at, or why... didn't care.

Sandra bolted around the corner, dashing down the hall, her heart racing, breath thinning, rapid...

Her mind attempted to wrap around it... a shooting... God, what the hell? Why?!

Somehow, within a minute, she ended up at Knowles' room. Sandra eyed the door from down the hall... the door to his class room was closed.

God, please don't be locked... please...

Just as she was within a couple yards of the door, it swung open, nearly knocking her off her feet. Sandra dodged the door, startled.

Mr. Knowles stood in the door way.

"Come here." He ordered, grasping her arm and yanking her into the room.

Knowles pushed the door shut, then locked the padlock.

He then turned to her, looking particularly disturbed.

Sandra observed him. She'd never seen his expression so dark...

"We should--duck.. duck under the desks." Sandra said, her voice much higher, much less aggressive than it had ever been.

"No." Knowles said. "We should leave."

"But the guy's outside... he might--"

"He's not the only one." Knowles told her.

She looked at him.

"Everyone." He said, his eyes leaving her, staring at his feet, his brows pressed together, exhibiting worry lines on his worried face. "Everyone in town is losing their minds. They... it..."

"A riot?" Sandra asked.

Knowles nodded, looking down.

"Why?" She asked.

"Money shortage, I guess..." He said. "People lately have been getting more hostile... nearly everyone on my block lost their foodstamps... taxes increased... no one can afford anything anymore... people are... finally losing it completely..."

The both of them stood in anxious silence for a little while, glimpsing from the door to the window.

"What're we... supposed to do?" Sandra asked, unable to merely sit in suspense anymore.

"Don't know." He said.

ERRRRRRRRRR.

A horrible, ear-splitting noise erupted from the intercom of the school, then a moment later, the principal's voice spoke.

"Attention, students and staff. We are under a code red. I repeat, we are under a code red. Please take the precautions you were trained for. This is not a drill...

Sandra's attention drifted as the principal continued to speak. What was a code red?

"What's code red?" Sandra asked as she and Knowles stared up at the intercom. "A drill for a riot?"

Knowles swallowed.

"Sort of..."

Despite the frightening situation, Sandra was trying her best to maintain a calm, composed, and even uncaring disposition... though she was only half succeeding. She now felt oddly embarrassed that she had reacted so strongly to the sight of a gun shot...

Stop freaking out. Sandra scolded herself angrily. Just stop it, you idiot. Everything's gonna be fine. I'll end up going home bored today, and Adrian's gonna drag me down the hill to blow up dynamite... just like any other stupid day...

A shrill, horrid scream broke both their trains of thought.

Sandra and Knowles jumped, looking at the door, alarmed.

Knowles placed an arm in front of Sandra, stepping in front of her, facing the door.

More screams followed the first one... then a thundering barrage of footsteps...

Sandra's heart pounded. Everyone else in the school is panicking.

"We need to leave." Knowles said. "Right now."

"H-how?" Sandra asked, instantly angry with herself for stuttering.

Knowles scanned around the room.

He looked grave.

Loving this! Please don't leave us hanging for too long.

Originally posted by lokin
Loving this! Please don't leave us hanging for too long.

I won't. Thank you

I just copied & pasted this entire story on wordpad, then spent an hour editing it just how I wanted it. Then my computer glitched. Deleted the whole thing. Have to start over now.

... I can't say everything on my mind on ATS.

I am so beyond pissed.

I think I'll write more today

It all ran through her mind again... I just saw some guy outside start shooting a gun... now everyone else in the school is going berserk... there's apparently riots going on in the town... what happened?

"Where are we..." She began. Knowles looked at her.

"I don't know." He said darkly. "If you and I can get outside... we can get to my car, and... get away from here."

Sandra cleared her throat.

"What about the rest of the school?" She asked. "Everybody else..."

Knowles looked down.

"I can't... do anything for them." He told her. "I don't know exactly where the shooters are... or how many there are... or if they're in the school. The safest thing you and I could do is leave. And... pray everyone else is alright."

Sandra's heart thumped nervously... she didn't like the sound of leaving everyone else to their possible deaths, but she also understood the logic in Knowles' statement. The best thing they could do is leave.

Then, something occurred.

Something bizzarre, something faint, yet loud, something unexplainable.

Knowles and Sandra barely noticed it at first.

The ground gave a shake... the slightest tremor... almost like a tiny earthquake... they both thought as though they had imagined it... then it became apparent... a noise...

A bellowing, yet faint, overwhelming noise miles and miles away... the sound of a great volcano eruption, perhaps? Or maybe an explosion...

Sandra and Knowles met eyes, seeming to be thinking the same thing. What was that?

A thought struck her.

Years of surfing the internet at school, studying conspiracy theories religiously and painting up paranoid fantasies took a toll on her--her mind raced, thoughts swarming around in her so quickly she began to grow a migraine... no. It couldn't be.

Forum thread titles from the conspiracy websites appeared in her mind. A New World Order? Obama signs NDAA, the first sign of our holocaust?! World war three to start soon?

World War Three.

The thought of it was ludacris... the most outragious thing she could imagine. America was the strongest, safest, most well-armed country in the world. Nothing would happen here. Nothing. We're untouchable.

But what if it did.

That can't be.

What if we've been touched. By another country.

We haven't. This is nothing. It's minor civil unrest, at best. Nothing else.

No it's not. It's sheer panic. Everyone here knows they're about to die.

That can't be.

It is.

No it isn't.

You know what that sound was.

Stop it.

You know what's happening.

STOP it.

Bombs are dropping.

No...

Bombs are dropping.

Bombs... are...

"Sandra?" Knowles said, snapping her out of her personal mental argument.

Sandra blinked, looking at him, realizing her breath had become quick yet again, heart pounding once more.

"What was that noise?" Sandra suddenly asked, for the first time in her life, sounding frightened. "What was it?"

Knowles responded in the way she dreaded he would... placing his hands together, staring into her eyes, and saying nothing.

"What was it?" She asked again, a hint of desperation in her voice.

Knowles' hazel eyes bled into her from behind his glasses, portraying some profound feeling... he looked horribly sad...

Stop looking at me like that, she thought furiously. Stop it... just tell me what the noise was. Tell me it was nothing to worry about. DO IT! SAY IT WAS NOTHING!

"We need to leave." He said. "We need to leave now."

Sandra's heart was thrashing against her ribs now.

Everything seemed surreal... blurred, even... like a terribly exciting dream... sure, it's a dream. This isn't real.

Knowles gave her a last, deep expression, releasing a sigh... then, he turned, inching closer to his class room door.

Sandra wanted more than anything to wrap around his arm and pull him back, to stop him from approaching the door, but she stood, stiff, quiet, and anxious, watching him.

It could have been hours... he stepped ever so slightly closer, placing his hands slowly and silently on the door, his face an inch from the glass... he squinted, staring out the small window, examining the hallway, which was still full of panicking students.

He stood there, watching the hallway for what seemed like days.

Sandra watched. Oh, please get away from the door... please, just get away from the door...

The screams and cries from the hallway grew louder, more frightening. Still, Knowles didn't move, just stood there, watching...

BANG.