The Third World War, the assassination of the Fourty-Fifth President of the United States, the Superflu that wiped out half the Earth's population and even the discovery of the foreign planet that solved all of Earth's energy problems; the man that predicted all these event to the very exact minute came into the room taking camera shutters with no waver. This was the first prophecy the prophet had made in months and was the center of interest for all humans worldwide. Some news agencies even made predictions on what the prophecy may be, such as the fall of North Korea or the discovery of another habitable planet. However I felt a slight unease down my spine that told me today was going to be different, today's prophecy was going to be far worse, whether it is an alien invasion or a great flood. As a representative of the BBC, I opened my laptop in order to carry this vital news to the people of my country.
"The purpose of this meeting is for the news agencies around the world to warn their people of whatever I may say." He continued, "Just as always, the only thing I'll say is my prophecy, questions will not be answered."
His face was dark, everyone could tell the news he was about to bring was not good.
"Next week Wednesday at 6PM, the world will end."
There was a prolonged silence and none of the people in the room, aside from the prophet, could not even dare to move a muscle. In this silent chaos the prophet walked out of the room, just like always, leaving the people even more in the dark. I tried to type a fitting title for this news
Perhaps it would be "The World's Final hour", no it'd be too cliche.
What about the "Last Day on Earth"... no it'd be too dramatic, even if were to be true.
Then I came to a conclusion; there was no use wrestling my mind on deciding on the title of the front page cover of BBC when the world was ending tommorow.
I sent in my letter of resignation, just like the majority of the office, and made my way home. On the way home I called my parents who moved down to the rural areas to enjoy a relaxing, farm life. When I heard my mother's voice I could not get myself to bring her to news that the world was ending tommorrow. I asked the routinely greetings and hung up.
On the night of the eve of destruction I could not get myself to sleep. The whole night I dreamed of the various ways the world could possibly come to an end, ranging from meteor showers to evaporation via aliens.
The the morning of the end of the world I went down to my parent's farm to give them a hand with their farmwork. It was planting season and even with a tractor it took hours to plant around the farm. Although I knew such actions had no meaning, as at 6PM the world was coming to an end, I felt a sense of caritas.
It was 4PM when I arrived home and in defeat I solemnly took out a can of beer from the fridge. The sip of the beer did not taste any different like how they describe it in the movies, where a hero would comment on the particular tastefulness of the last can of beer before he went to conduct some noble act that would save the world.
I woke up and quickly checked the time, it was 5:35 PM. How could I be so careless? I almost missed the last moments of my life just for a quick nap! Or maybe it was my subconsciousness wishing this was all a fraud and at the end of my sleep I'd wake up at 6:35PM begging my boss for my job back. However I knew this was just foolish hopefulness, the prophet was never wrong.
5:59:30 PM, I closed my eyes in order to face the inevitable. I wished to have a peace of mind before a hell on Earth was unleashed before my eyes. I ate a whole handful of sleeping pills.
6PM. The reporters on the television are screaming at the top of their lungs but I cannot hear it quickly. My consciousness was finally fading away, and at the last moment of my life I took a quick peek at the end of the world and read the subtitles on the television broadcast.
"The Legendary Prophet commits suicide."
And just like that the prophet's world ended, along with mine.
