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y0lk #115: "godlike", by pretentious angst queen kreid

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        It was somewhere around 3:00 AM in Leonard's driveway.  A long, hot,

and generally uninteresting August day was concluding with a warm early

August night.  Leonard was not quite sure what day it was, since he had been

unemployed and unattached to life all through the summer, but it felt like

somewhere around Wednesday.  The passing of days had become completely

irrelevant, anyway.  The only reason Leonard thought of time at all was

because he dreaded the daytime so much that he would watch the clock and wait

for the sun to come down every day, eager each time to plunge himself into

the night.  The deep hours of nighttime were all that he lived for during that

lonely summer, after everyone in town had gone to sleep.  And at 3:00 AM in the

boring suburb in which Leonard lived, the phones didn’t ring, the televisions

were all off, and there were no lights to burst out of any of his neighbors'

windows.  It was the only time when Leonard would leave his house, and only

then to lie alone in his driveway.



        Leonard had been left alone in life, completely abandoned by everyone

he knew.  His parents had died, leaving him at his young age of nineteen with

their home and all their money and responsibility.  He was an only child and

his parents did not have many friends, but there were a few people who tried

to bring him a little comfort at the funeral and for a few days afterwards.

But it didn't last long.  Nobody really cared much for Leonard, mostly because

he hated to be cared for.  He loved being alone.  He didn’t want a family.  He

didn't even mind when his friends abandoned him to go away to all their

colleges.  Leonard believed he was born to be alone, and to die lonely.



        Leonard, alone, had a very calm look on his face as he lay on that

warm driveway, wearing only his old jeans.  He looked up at the stars, which

were always beautiful to him, although boring.  He fixed his eyes on one of

those stars and stared at it for as long as he could, wondering (but not

really caring) what it was like on the other side of the galaxy.  He figured

it was probably just as boring as it was on Earth, but it might be nice to

visit one day, like his parents used to visit poorer nations in the

summertime.  They would go away for a week, and then come back and talk about

it and laugh, knowing that as rich Americans living in the suburbs, they

would never have to suffer like the natives of those poorer countries.  They

would always have indoor plumbing and central air conditioning in the good old

United States of America.



        Leonard knew better than that, of course.  He knew life was shit for

anyone who could see past all the distractions that people found.  Television,

conversation, masturbation, was all just bullshit, and unfortunately, Leonard

wouldn't fall for it.  It was because of Leonard’s inability to be distracted

that his life was so unfulfilling.  He had considered suicide but decided it

would not be fair to take nature into his own hands… he felt that killing

himself would violate the natural order of things, and if there was anything

Leonard respected, it was nature.  Leonard could not kill himself, he decided,

but he always hoped for some tragedy.  When he drove, he drove fast and

carelessly, hoping to find himself someday in a fatal car accident.



        Leonard was contemplating the flawless beauty of nature and the

flawless stench of mankind, staring at that one star.  He noticed a slight

pulsation in the star and imagined someone on the other side of the galaxy

was trying to communicate with him.  It seemed very illogical, but after

staring intently at that star for a while, it really seemed to Leonard that

for some reason, something out there was trying to say something to him.

Could it be that something of some relevance was happening to Leonard on that

late August night?



        No, thought Leonard, that's bullshit.  Optimistic quasi-scientific

bullshit.  Life is shit, I've figured out that much.  That is the natural order

of things.  Being chosen for an alien communication would violate that order,

wouldn't it?



        Yes, it would.  Leonard turned his head and closed his eyes.  He

distracted himself with other thoughts so as to forget about the pulsating

star.  But seconds later, Leonard saw intense flashing light through his

closed eyelids.  He opened his eyes and saw that his driveway and the

surrounding neighborhood was bathing in this intense light, pulsating.

Leonard looked up at the star and saw it filling the entire night sky with

its radiance.  The rest of the stars seemed to be melting into nothingness,

their presence shattered by the countenance of the one great star, which

seemed to be calling out directly to Leonard.  He knew, somehow, by looking at

that star that this spectacle was meant for him, and something even bigger

was about to happen which would change his life.



        Leonard heard a voice in his head, in a tone that was completely

inhuman and indescribable.  It was calling to him.  Leonard, you have been

chosen.  You are welcomed into our home, to live for eternity in a state of

godlike bliss.  When you wake tomorrow, you will be with us, blessed and

omnipotent.  Your every wish has been granted.



        A long, empty silence followed.  Tears started to come to Leonard's

eyes.  The star had stopped blinking, and everything had returned to normal,

but Leonard was absolutely sure what happened just then was real.  When he

woke up tomorrow, he would be a god.  Tears violently poured out of his eyes

and rolled down his neck and onto his bare chest.  And he spoke, he shouted,

for the first time in several lonely weeks: "God damn it!" He frowned sickly

and clenched his teeth as if he were in excruciating pain.  He probably woke

up several neighbors with the volume and pain in his brief, violent cry.  But

that's all he had to say.  God damn it.



        Leonard cried a little more, but quickly calmed himself down.  There

was no reason to cry.  Something had changed, that’s all.  This was not what he

expected, and things would have to be done to adjust.  Leonard walked slowly,

quietly, as if leaving a funeral, back into his house and then into his

kitchen.  And with the quickness and efficiency of an assassin, he grabbed the

largest knife in his parents' old kitchen knife set, and drove it fiercely

into his heart.  Leonard's eyes bulged with pain and shock, and his knees

buckled.  He fell backwards, hitting the linoleum kitchen floor beneath him

with a heavy, dull noise.  And he lay there, still clutching the knife with

both hands, peacefully, for the few remaining seconds of his life.  Blood

poured out onto the floor around him, and he closed his eyes, wishing only

that he could have died with more dignity.  He never wanted to commit suicide,

but what other choice did he have? His faith had been shattered that night.

And now he was what he had always desired to be: a worthless slab of flesh,

blood spilled all around him like wine on a cheap linoleum floor.  Life, for

once, had meant something for Leonard.  And he died with the most empowering

knowledge that he had ever possessed: it was all over.   Now he was truly

godlike.