Happy Days | Teen Ink

Happy Days

March 5, 2016
By voldycat SILVER, Low Fell, Other
voldycat SILVER, Low Fell, Other
7 articles 0 photos 2 comments

Favorite Quote:
"I dress to kill, but tastefully." ~Freddie Mercury


“Look, I made it!” Michael shoved his phone under Chris’ face “This is just the mobile version but I’ll show you the full page later.”
They had been sharing a flat together for around two years, both as students at the near-by college, they had been good friends for years beforehand but when they both got into NYU a flat share seemed like the best way forward. It wasn’t until their second year living there that their good friend Emily has moved in as well, she always paid the rent on time and had the added bonus of being from the city so she knew all the best places to get pizza.   
Chris look a few steps back to let his eyes focus as he tried to read whatever it was Michael was trying so eagerly to show him. It was a website:  m.happydays.com, the background was a lime green colour and to the right-hand side of the screen there was a grey alien with elongated features and exaggerated black eyes seemingly emerging from the back. Along the top of the screen it read in bold, black letter-
“HAPPY DAYS ALIEN INSURANCE: BECAUSE YOU DON’T KNOW, BUT THEY DO”
Chris smacked his hand against his forehead in an act of utter disbelief “I was joking you do realise that?”
“I wasn’t.” Michael replied with a perfectly serious expression.
“That doesn’t even make s-“
“I’ve set up the page and all I need now is some funding to kick it off and…” he elbowed Chris between the ribs, seemingly oblivious to his complaints “a team to help me.”
Chris thought about this for a couple of seconds, still trying to get over the complete stupidity of the whole idea, before deciding that the likely-hood of him actually being able to take a loan out when he told the bank it was for alien insurance was so small that he might as well give him his glory now.
“Fine I’ll do it.” He hung his head in defeat.
“YES!” Michael jumped up and fist-pumped the air in a moment of mock triumph inspired by a childhood (and let’s face it adulthood) of Super Mario Bros™ “Knew I could count on you!” He snatched his phone out of Chris’ hand and ran out the room in one swift movement.
Chris slowly sat down on the second-hand arm-chair to his left, sighed and flicked the television on.
“Oh and—“
“ARR”
Michael ran back into the room, making Chris fling the television remote across the room, narrowly missing Michael’s head.
“Ah sorry about that” he began sheepishly “but I thought I would mention Emily said she would fund the project, some mysterious family member she never met died and left her a tonne of money.” Michael left again before Chris had time to respond.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
That was seven months ago and things had actually been going pretty well, turns out there was enough conspiracists and rich students out there to end up making them quite a bit of cash. Chris and Michael had actually managed to buy a bigger flat on the revenue, right in the centre of New York, and of course Emily had followed, even though she promised she would get a place of her own.
Michael worked as a graphic designer for the website, Emily dealt with the finances and Chris was customer services. This basically involved going through the emails once a day and responding to all the nutters and spammers the website attracted, but it was worth it for the view of Manhattan out his window.
It was eight on a Saturday morning and everyone was still unconscious in their beds, he could here Emily’s snore’s two rooms over, but he couldn’t get back to sleep.
He reached over from to bed to his phone lying a few inches away from and logged onto the happy day’s emails as he did every morning.
“You have 347 unread emails”
This didn’t seem right.
He opened the first email-
“Dear Happy days,
My garage was destroyed by the aliens this morning—“
He closed it, guessing it was just another spam and opened the next
“They took my nephew”
Must be a full moon.
“Knocked over the tree and crushed the car”
“Broke my right leg and foot”
“Destroyed half my house”
Okay something was definitely up here.
He dragged himself out of bed, plodded to the other side of the room and pulled on his blue, well-worn dressing gown that desperately needed washing, yawned and wandered over to the window, drew the curtains and revealed a city in ruins.
Chris threw his window open and breathed deeply before fully taking in what was happening in front of him, and then promptly dropped his phone. As he stared a huge metallic, electric blue….thing… came flying round the corner, flicking its long tail and knocking out the building across the street, the ash and dust spread across the street, nearing Chris’ window. He pushed it closed and slowly backed away from the glass.
He turned around and started numbly walking out of the room towards Michael’s.
Still in a state of shock he reached out and pushed the door open to discover a darkened, musty room with Michael cocooned under black sheets that probably haven’t been changed since they moved in three months previously. There was a lump under the blanket which must have been Michael, fully clothed, Chris assumed, like he always was.
He took a few steps into the room and that’s when the full gravity of the situation hit him, the weight of which forced him to the ground and he didn’t move.
“Michael” Chris whispered in a hiss, the figure groaned and didn’t move.
“Michael!” he said more urgently.
Still no reply.
“Michael I swear to god. If you don’t get your sorry ass out of that bed I will show Dr Cravar exactly what you wrote in your notes last lecture.”
“Don’t you even think about It” Michael groaned again and rolled out of his bed, landing heavily on the floor.
Chris got up off the floor and stomped over to the dusty curtains and dragged them open, flooding the room with white light and revealing the horrific scene of the world outside.
The sky had been replaced with thousands of buzzing shadow creatures, occasionally raining down a black hooded monster which were far too tall and far too thin. There were about twelve giant-metallic beasts floating around the streets, resembling giant isopods.
Michael dragged himself from the floor “dude I’m sure whatever I did was stupi- what the hell?”
“I was hoping you would have an answer to that” Chris replied in a low voice “you realise what this means don’t you?”
“Are we gonna suit up and save the city?”
Chris kicked him.
“It means that even if we get out of this alive, we’re dead.”
“That doesn’t sound like a good situation to be in.”
Chris ignored him “if we live we’re ruined, do you know how many claims we’ve had already?”
“How would I know that?”
“Three-hundred and forty-seven.”
“Oh… but we can just give them their money back”
“We’ve spent the money”
“…”
“It’s Saturday morning and the sun hasn’t even risen properly yet, there better be a damn good reason as to why you’ve woken me up?” Emily growled as she stomped into the room “do you idiots have any idea what time it is?”
“Oh looks like my clock is missing must have been stolen by aliens” Michael hinted in his own special way.
Chris kicked him again.
“Okay guys seriously go back to sleep.”
There was a loud bang from above and the whole building shook, causing a thin layer of dust to fall from the rafters and into their hair, aging them by a decade or so.
Emily looked at Chris in dis-belief.
“It’s not safe here, meet me by the door in five minutes, get dressed and pull some stuff together, we might not be coming home.” He said in a reply to her confused face.
“…guys?” Emily continued to look confused, despite Chris’s pathetic attempt at an explanation.
“I’ll explain better later” Chris called from the hall, as he ran to his room “But I’m sure you’ll work it out soon” he added as an after-thought.
He stood at the threshold of his room for a few moments, trying to decide what to bring to a possible apocalypse.
He dragged his old backpack out of his cupboard and stuffed some clothes in, along with his wallet and a first aid kit, before leaving the room. Next her hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a handful of water-bottles, wrapped a bread knife in an old sweater and pulled out essential foods, covered them in salt for preservation, and put them in too.
“WHAT THE--?!”
“That’s what I said.”
Sounds like Emily noticed.
He was just catching his breath and trying to clear his head and work out if he needed anything else; he was just debating whether or not he should bring toilet paper when there was a loud bang followed by a high-pitched scream coming from the room over.
Emily. 
He shoved the backpack over his shoulder as he skidded across the tiled floor and outside the Emily’s door. He was about to push it open when he hesitated, he, in the entire time that he had lived with her, had never been in her bedroom. Idiot she’s being attacked by Cthulhu or god knows what just open the goddamn door.
Chris shoved the pesky door to the side and rushed into the room it hid, which was in absolute carnage. Books lay strewn across the floor, the bed sheets had been ripped and the feathers were floating peacefully through the air and out of the gaping hole in the wall where the window used to be. Luckily most of the glass had fallen out the window with—WAIT WHERE WAS EMILY?
He ran through the room upturning boxes, emptying drawers and generally looking in places that no human could feasibly hide in, she couldn’t be gone; she couldn’t be no a person can’t just be there and then… not, that’s just not fair!
No no no no no no what’s Michael gonna think, we failed, god damn it I failed and it’s only ten past eight.
Chris fell to the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his face in his hands to muffle the sound he let out a long, low scream.
“What the hell are you doing you idiot? Get me down from here!”
A familiar female voice shouted from somewhere very close by.
Familiar.
Emily!
Close by.
Oh my god the window!
Chris scrambled to his feet again and threw himself across the room to smashed window to the source of the voice, and there, to his utter disbelief was Emily hanging from the tips of her fingers and twenty feet below her on the concrete street lay one of the scaly aliens leaking a metallic fluid resembling oil but could only be blood. 
Emily’s hands were cut and bloodied from the glass of the window; her hair had been blown out of place and was drifting in the slight breeze. She looked up at Chris with pure fear in her eyes, followed by a relaxed acceptance, before letting go of the ledge.


The author's comments:

Something that I wrote from a prompt for my English course work that I kind of liked. 


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