(Short Story) Population: 1


Well, here is it folks. One of the short stories I penned a while back, rediscovered in my notebook, and then polished up. It’s one of those stories you come up with while bored on public transportation, in which a guy wakes up to find out that everyone has vanished and later seeks out clues on the why, how, and mostly when everyone disappeared. I remember planning out, or at least having some thought of how to continue the story but I have yet to do so. (A common element to my shorter stories is that if I really liked it, then I’ll always have a sequel broiling in the back of my head.)

In retrospect I gave myself a great setting in which I could have my character do whatever they wanted, and situations like that always inspire more ideas. The idea of some one waking up to find the city empty, and the kind of questions that would go through one’s mind. Is it really empty? Is he really the last one left? What about animals? Other countries? Would clues be left behind?

Fun fact: The original working title for this was “Last Man Standing” but after a while I realized that that title sounds a lot more like an action movie.

Enjoy. I’ll put the first bit on here and link the whole document on google docs [Here]. (Since I think it might be awkward having that much text on a blog post.) I am still working on how to present these stories, so if linking to google docs is too much of a hassle or doesn’t work for some of you then tell me and I will try something else.

Population: 1

by Daniel O’Hare

    I used to write in the hopes that someday, someone will find this journal and know my story. I gave up on that notion along time ago. Now I write to prove to myself that I am still sane. I’ll start from the beginning and record every detail, after all, this might be the last document ever created by a human being.
    It started on a Tuesday, when I was jarred from sleep by my alarm clock. 6 am wasn’t my best friend. Since we couldn’t see eye to eye, I hit the snooze button and drifted back to sleep. 6:05 am might be a better time to get up.
    Nope, that wasn’t a good time for me either. I closed my eyes and wondered why it was that the snooze button hadn’t worn out from the abuse.
    At 7 am I finally surrendered to the morning, after all, I needed to be on a bus heading downtown in about five minutes. Sleeping in was routine and so was the blur of motion in my bedroom as I got everything I needed. For someone who was too lazy to get out of bed, I was surprisingly good at running out the door without forgetting anything.
    Unlock door. Open. Close. Lock door and three, two, one, run!
    It takes on average forty two seconds to reach the bus stop. Broke my record that time, but I had no idea if I missed my bus or not. If it wasn’t early then it should be here in five, four, three, two, one, zero…
    …negative one, negative two, negative three…
    Weird, I’ve never reached negative seventy when waiting for this bus. After five minutes I started to wish I had a driver’s license. That way I wouldn’t be late for class. I had a Sociology final and if I missed that, the professor wouldn’t let me retake it. At ten minutes I was pacing back and forth, and I was furious at twenty minutes. Impotent rage fueled me into action. If I hailed a taxi then, I could still get to class on time. It would cost seventy six bucks but I’d pay it if I had to. I’d get to college even if it meant hitchhiking, or grand theft auto. As I fumed, one question boiled in my gray matter. Why hadn’t the bus shown up?
    It couldn’t be the traffic that held it up, in fact there wasn’t a car on the road. Wait a second. That’s kind of weird. It was 7:30 in the morning and not a car was seen driving past. There were some parked, but it was the average amount of cars you’d see parked on just about any street. Nothing unusual.
    Everything looked normal, except for the lack of cars…and people. This was beyond weird, it was getting downright scary now. 7:32 am and not a soul was in sight.
    I started to walk. Something felt wrong, very wrong.

(Rest can be found here)


About Albedosrighthand

A young writer who treads the line between gamer and literary nutball.
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