[hr][hr][center][h1][color=purple]Daniyal Lohi[/color][/h1][/center]
[hr][center][color=purple][b]Location: At his own Home (Number 7 Grant Road)[/b][/color]
[color=purple][b]Interacting With: No one[/b][/color][/center][hr]
[color=purple][i]”I wouldn’t be a coward,”[/i][/color] he promised to himself,

[color=purple][i]”I won’t just run away and hide,”[/i][/color] he swore to himself,

[color=purple][i]”I’m brave and rationale,”[/i][/color] he bragged to himself, and yet he was cowering in his own home begging for the lights to turn back on.

The stroll did nothing to calm his nerves. All he saw were either empty streets or people running, and street preachers but that’s a given. Desolate streets, inking skies, dark corners. He felt as if any moment someone might jump him. However, he didn’t [i]feel[/i] as if someone might, just feared someone might. Even he couldn’t tell the difference, but a reassuring thought told him he was safe. Which did absolutely nothing.

He was skirting the edges of a near-by untamed land, where hobos frequented. He liked the dirty rats, even though he called them dirty rats. Maybe they could calm him a bit. They had sob stories galore, and were a lively bunch. He even made friends with a few after showing them some tricks. Little hocus-pocus, make a coin appear and then you’re loved. It seemed a bit pathetic to him at times, finding friends in a group of unwashed drunkards, especially when some of them wouldn’t hesitate to shank you, but Daniyal was odd, he found pride in that. He was going to march in there with open arms and-

[i]CRASH[/i]

A murder of crows levitated above the trees and sped away, a low cry was heard when another [i]crash[/i] echoed out of the thicket of trees and shrubs. Daniyal immediately turned heel, speed-walking away from the noise. Maybe it was best to [i]not[/i] visit a place after the worst of bad omens took place in front of you.

After placing as much distance as he could, he slowed down a little. His eyes darting from dark window to dark window, before sighing with relief. It was only a power outage, perfectly normal and common! A tree fell over and snapped a wire or two.

[color=purple][i]”A power outage the day the world is supposed to end?”[/i][/color], he thought.

It wasn’t precognition, nor divination that poisoned and worried his thoughts. It was fear. Pure, primal fear. Daniyal didn’t consider himself someone who believed in superstition, but fear had already grappled his mind. 

Reaching his home in a cold sweat, Daniyal swung open his front door after fumbling with his keys, and wincing when the door banged against the wall. He flipped the light switch, nothing. He went to the fuse box and toyed with the knobs, which only caused a flare of sparks that terrified him more. 

So there he was, laying down on the living room couch, without the comfort of light or the TV, waiting for the moment a voice will just ring out nonchalantly announcing the end of the world. He almost chuckled at that. He was acting stupid, and he knew it. 

He scolded himself for that, [color=purple]”Get up!”[i][/i][/color] his mind yelled. What was he worried about anyway? Meteors? A killer bursting in? He didn’t know what was going to happen, so why worry about it? Right?

All he knew was that he didn’t want to be alone. Technically he wasn’t alone at that moment, but he would rather not acknowledge that [i]thing’s[/i] existence right now. He knew of a town meeting taking place soon, he could go. Safety in numbers, right? Get the voice of the future generation heard, right? It was a great idea, right? 

He still hadn’t shed off his clothes nor bag yet, but by his standards he was all ready to go, messy hair and all. And now to watch the slow ticking of the second-hand as the silence pounded his ears.