I remember when I was little, I always asked “Mummy, is it tomorrow yet?” and her answer was always the same. “No darling, it’s not tomorrow yet.” I never truly understood why, until I grew up. Tomorrow never comes, it’s one of the great facts of life. Think about it. By the time tomorrow is here, it’s today. The only time tomorrow would be here is if they changed a day of the week to tomorrow. Tomorrow will never come. It’s all over the news, the end of the world is on our doorstep, or so they say. You can never really believe them, they said the same in 2005 and 2010, it’s now 2012, and they’re saying the world’s going to end again.
My name’s Doctor Alexandra Moore. I am a graduate from the University of Oxford and have a PhD in Psychology. For many years I have studied the behaviours of many people in the country. I don’t waste my time with poppy-cock, instead of making them answer my questions, I answer them myself. You could say I am more the ‘experimental-psychology’ type. I teach psychology at the University of Canterbury, which is where I intended to be, but I got into Oxford. You could say it was sheer luck, or fate, depending on what you believe in. I’m married, my husband, George, who also has a PhD in psychology, is one of the greatest men around. In fact. That’s how we met. Through university I mean. We have one son, Michael, he’s 5. Such a bright kid, only not too tidy, we love him to pieces.
It’s December 1st 2012, and nothing has happened yet, surely if the world was going to end some signs would start to show. They’re digging a hole to the centre of the Earth just so they can see inside her shell. If anything, it’s not meteors or the sun going out that will be the destruction of this world. It’s human ignorance and curiosity. Compare the earth to a human brain, if someone manages to crack it, it’s broken forever and no amount of work can fix it. That is what the earth is like, if you crack her surface just to see what’s underneath you will never be able to put her back together.
Have you ever heard of the Monty Hall problem? It was on an American game show. 3 doors, 2 have completely useless items behind them such as goats and the other has something you want behind it. You picked one and the host opened one of the other ones. He then gave you the option to change the door you picked. Remember that? It was all a game of chance. That’s how it is with the survival of the earth. Behind one door is the key to its survival, behind the other two is the key to its destruction. That leaves us with a 1:3 chance of saving the Earth.
It is 0600 hours, December 2nd 2012. I cannot sleep. I put the television on and grabbed my ice-cream out of the fridge. It’s so darn cold these days. Scientists say it’s because of all the greenhouse gases blocking the suns rays into the earth. I say bull. Think about it, greenhouse gases are destroying the o-zone layer so surely it should be getting warmer? Oh I don’t care; I’m not going to argue with the so called “experts”. Ahh the good old news channel. Showing us what idiots the population has become. They’re digging into the earth. They built some form of dam so that the seas don’t just spill straight into it. To be perfectly honest, they’re going about it all wrong; too much pressure will cause the dams to break. Take my ice-cream for example. If I take wafers, stick them in then pile ice cream behind it, it stops the ice cream just flowing into the centre. BUT if I pressurize it a bit, place the wafer further back and then put the same amount of ice cream behind it, before you know it *SNAP* the ice creams back where it started. I bet some genius sat in an office decided all this, and didn’t bother to take any information from the scientists into account.
We’re becoming very American these days... Frozen yogurt? Sitcoms? Fast Food joints? All American. Heck, parliament even over-threw the queen and replaced her with a president. It’s just not right, it’s just not British. We aren’t British anymore. It’s now 0630. Still pretty early. I should try getting rest but I just can’t get warm enough, I suppose Joseph will be round soon. Another hour and a half to *BANG BANG BANG* or not.
‘Good morning Joseph.’
‘Good morning? GOOD MORNING?! There is nothing good about this morning!’
‘What news brings you here?’
‘The dams have bust, the waters flooding in’
‘You mean t-’
‘Yes I mean it’s all flooded into the centre of the earth.’
‘That the centre of the earth has been put out by thousands of gallons of water yes.’
‘Do you quite mind finishing off my sentences?’
‘Well no actually considering you take too long to speak!’
‘What is the rush, Joseph? We have all the time in the world.’
‘All the time in the world? Have you not been listening to me? IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD.’
‘Joseph, calm down, take a seat.’
‘No I do not have time to be sitting down! I’ll be on my way!’
As you can tell, Joseph over reacts, he hears news and blows it way out of proportion. He always has done. I’ve known him since I was about 15 so that would be going on about 8 years? As you’ve so rightly guessed by now, yes I am but 23 and he is 22. He is married with 2 children. Twins nonetheless. Rosie and Amy, both four, such adorable smart children, they get that off their father. There mother, Emily, is a mere 21, she didn’t go to university, she had to stay at home and look after the twins. Joseph was your typical husband, goes to work, works his heart out, comes home, knocks back a couple of bourbons then passes out. Not like my George. George likes a nice glass of whiskey when he came home. Only one glass, and then we’d spend the evening talking. It was nice.
George is due home in a few hours. He was working on the dig to the centre of the Earth. I can’t say I’m proud of that but it really wasn’t his choice. Michael is tucked up in bed, I can hear him snoring, it’s quite cute actually. The news is still on, apparently some people drowned when the dams collapsed, it’s a shame. They’re going to announce who’s dead in a few minutes. The least I can do is remember them and send my condolences to their families. My George will be…
George Moore was amongst those who have been presumed dead when the dam broke early this morning. There is a search for the bodies of those who have disappeared.
Not George. Not MY George. Surely. It can’t be.
*BANG BANG BANG*
‘Alex open up!’
*BANG BANG BANG*
‘Alex open this door!’
“BANG BANG BANG*
‘Mommy, someone’s at the door’
Michael was stood at the bottom of the stairs, he looked so sleepy. I just wanted to cuddle him, but I couldn’t. Tears were streaming down my face.
‘Michael go back to bed baby.’
‘ALEX OPEN THIS DOOR!’
‘Mommy why’s everyone shouting?’
‘Michael go back to bed. Now.’
The door was off its hinges and on the living room floor. Michael stood in shock, the door laying at his feet. I ran over to him and picked him up in my arms, shielding his face from the light outside. A figure stood in front of me, a familiar figure, one of which I trusted.
It was James, my neighbour from three doors down, he'd heard the news and came to keep me company. I didn't need company right now, I needed to think, I needed to act. Anything but sit in the company of another human being pretending to know what I was going through. He was just going to use my psycho-babble on me and I hated that notion.
"Can you watch Michael for me?"
"I need some air."
And with that, I left the house, and disappeared silently into the fog.