12 Minutes

The scientists may not have been able to stop the asteroid, but they were able to predict when it would hit with stunning accuracy. 5:22 pm on a Wednesday. Of course, on a Wednesday. (set: $time to 10)Your watch reads 5:$time. There are twelve minutes left until the end of the world. [[look around]] [[scream, cry, shake your fist at the sky]] [[call your loved ones]]

(if: $time<13)[You're standing in the middle of the street outside your apartment, in the small city that's become your home. The sky overhead is a soft stone gray, and a few snowflakes are slowly drifting down, as they have been for about an hour now. The atmosphere seems to be holding its breath, like it knows something's coming, even though the angle of the asteroid means that your city will see no shadow until seconds before impact. Seconds after impact, your city will cease to exist. The earth may be holding its breath, but humans are not. Across the city, you can hear people screaming, crying, humanity's swan song. There is nothing to lose. Across the street, a man dressed in a postman's uniform is going from mailbox to mailbox, sliding letters into the slots. On a bench nearby, a woman is crying. Your watch reads 5:$time. [[call your loved ones]] [[scream, cry, shake your fist at the sky]] [[talk to the postman]] [[sit beside the woman]]](if:12<$time and $time<17)[The snow is falling faster now, and the air is starting to take on that peculiar quiet that comes with heavy snowfall. Even the noises of the dying city seem muffled. You take a deep breath and wonder how many you have left. The postman has moved on. The crying woman is gone too(if:(history:) contains "pet the cat")[, and so is the little cat.](else:)[. In her place, there's a little ginger cat, sitting completely still, looking at you with big green eyes.](if:(history:)contains "go up to your apartment")[](else:)[ You glance up and realize that you've left the light in your apartment on. Terrible for the environment, and your electric bill. This thought makes you laugh. Still, some small part of you wants to go back up and turn it off.] Your watch reads 5:$time. (if:(history:)contains "pet the cat")[](else:)[ [[pet the cat]] ] [[sit on the bench]] (if:(history:)contains "go up to your apartment")[](else:)[ [[go up to your apartment]] ] ](if:16<$time and $time<19)["Hey!" You look up, squinting at the source of the voice. A man in a tuxedo is looking down at you from the roof of your building. You point to yourself, a bit surprised. "Yeah, you! Come up here! Hurry, we've only got a couple minutes!" Your watch reads 5:$time. [[go up to the roof]] [[stay where you are]] ](if:$time>18)[(set:$time to $time+1)The streetlights click on, as they're automated to do, illuminating the falling snow. It's poetic that the world is ending at around the same time as sunset, you think, and feel a little sad that the cloud cover is keeping you from seeing the sun one more time. The noise over the city is rising to a crescendo as the last few minutes tick away. There's a hint of panic rising in your stomach, and a line of poetry jumps unbidden to your mind: //Do not go gentle into that good night, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.// Your watch reads 5:$time. [[rage]] [[make a snow angel]] ]

You throw back your head and empty your lungs in a wordless howl. You're not the only one doing so--the cityscape rings with screams and sobs both human and animal, with fireworks, with sirens, with gunshots. Your voice is already harsh, your throat already raw. You found out about the asteroid two months ago. Sometimes it feels like you've been screaming ever since. You close your mouth and your eyes. Your cheeks are wet from tears and snowflakes. (set: $time to $time+1)Your watch reads 5:$time. [[look around]] [[call your loved ones]]

You've already called all your family and friends and said your goodbyes. And a good thing, too, because cell service is down. Something about the impending asteroid interfering with the satellites. You love them all so much, and while part of you wishes you were together at the end, another part of you is glad you're alone. Seeing them, thinking of all the years that were supposed to be in the future...maybe the solitude is better. [[look around]]

(if: (history:) contains "talk to the postman")[As you watch, the postman disappears around the corner with his bag of mail. There was nothing more to say to him, anyway. [[look around]]](else:)[You approach the postman. He gives you a smile and a cheery wave. "What are you doing?" "Delivering mail, of course! You know the motto: Neither rain, nor shine, nor--" "Nor the end of the world?" He scoffs, shaking his head as he slides another letter into a mailbox. "The world's not about to end. It's all just a hoax. Maybe a marketing stunt of some kind, or something cooked up by the government to boost the economy. 5:22 will come and go and the world will still be here. And I will still be doing my job." "But--there's an asteroid!" "I don't see any asteroid, do you?" The postman makes a great show of looking around at the unbroken gray expanse of the sky. "No, I guess not." "Then excuse me, I have letters to deliver." The postman pushes past you and continues down the street. (set: $time to $time+2) [[convince him]] [[leave him be]]]

You settle yourself on the opposite end of the bench beside the crying woman. She looks a little bit older than you, and she looks extremely, decidedly, //normal//. Everything does, today. Tentatively, you reach out your hand and put it on her shoulder. She doesn't even seem to notice. (set: $time to $time+1) [[put your arm around her]] [[leave her alone]]

You chase after the postman. "Sir, you can't just ignore science! I've seen the photographs, the charts, the videos of what it's going to be like! The asteroid is going to smash into the ocean just off the coast and we're going to be obliterated!" "When you've been around the sun as many times as I have, you know not to put your faith into photographs and charts and videos. You just keep your head down and keep doing your job, and everything works out in the end." "Not this time. They say we won't even feel anything." "We won't //feel// anything because nothing's going to //happen//." The postman's casual tone has become significantly less jovial, and he speaks through gritted teeth. "But--" The postman stops walking and looks you directly in the eye. "Listen, kid. It's a beautiful snowy day. Go enjoy it and let me do my job, huh?" He pushes you off him and storms away. You watch him go, wondering if he believes what he said. You hope he does. (set: $time to $time+2)Your watch reads 5:$time. [[look around]]

You watch the postman continue down the street, whistling to himself. You wonder if he really believes what he said. You hope he does. Your watch reads 5:$time. [[look around]]

You slide closer and put your arm around her shoulders. She leans toward you, and before you know it, you're hugging, and she's crying into your shoulder. After a few minutes, she sniffles and sits up. "Thank you," she says. You nod. There's nothing to say. The two of you watch the falling snow in silence for a moment. Then the woman takes a deep breath and stands up. "I think I'm going to go to the square in the middle of town. There were a lot of people gathering there earlier. Do you want to come?" (set: $time to $time + 1)Your watch reads 5:$time. [[go with her]] [[stay]]

You pull your hand back. You have nothing to say, no comfort to offer. The kindest thing to do is to let her cry. The world deserves someone to mourn it. (set: $time to $time+1)Your watch reads 5:$time. [[look around]]

You look up at her and nod. She smiles. "Come on, then!" Together, you walk toward the center of town. The narrow streets open up to a square packed with people. Some of them are wearing winter clothes, while others are wearing wild hats and fancy dresses and Halloween costumes. A few are even wearing nothing at all. All around, people are hugging, laughing, crying, screaming, praying. Someone is passing out hot chocolate. Someone else is passing out vodka. Music is playing, a song that is sad but somehow celebratory at the same time. A tall man wearing Mickey Mouse ears approaches the two of you. He holds out a box of glazed donuts. "Donut for the end of the world?" The woman takes one, grinning up at the man. "Thanks." (set: $time to $time+3) Your watch reads 5:$time. [[take the donut]] [[refuse the donut]] (if: $time<17)[ [[leave]] ]

You shake your head. "Thank you, but I'm alright here." She nods. "Goodbye, then." "Goodbye." You watch her walk away toward the center of town, leaving you alone on the bench in the falling snow. (set: $time to $time+1) [[look around]]

"Thank you." You bite the donut. It's not as good as one fresh off the belt as Krispy Kreme, but it'll do. "Happy apocalypse," says the man, winking as he moves away. You and the woman move through the crowd, greeted by smiles and hugs and high-fives by people you've never seen before in your life. And gradually, the minutes tick down. Your watch reads 5:21. The music stops. A hush falls over the square. You feel the woman slip her hand into yours and squeeze. You take the hand of the old man next to you. Together, humanity looks to the sky. end. [[credits]]

"No thanks. I don't like donuts." The end of the world is no time for politely agreeing to things you don't want. The man shrugs. "Happy apocalypse," he says, winking as he moves away. You and the woman move through the crowd, greeted by smiles and hugs and high-fives by people you've never seen before in your life. And gradually, the minutes tick down. Your watch reads 5:21. The music stops. A hush falls over the square. You feel the woman slip her hand into yours and squeeze. You take the hand of the old man next to you. Together, humanity looks to the sky. end. [[credits]]

"I--I have to go." You have no explanation for why you feel like you have to get out of there, but you back away from the tall man, from the woman, and run back to your own street, sinking down on the park bench. You put in your head in your hands and catch your breath. Here it's quiet. Much better. (set: $time to $time+2) [[look around]]

"12 Minutes" by Hannah McLean October 5, 2017 Thank you for playing my first Twine game! Please let me know if you liked it or if you have any suggestions. Follow me on twitter to see more of my stuff (y'know, when it eventually comes out): https://twitter.com/HannahLMcLean My favorite music video, which probably loosely inspired this story somewhere in my subconscious: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LSgz7Ept79o And again, thank you so much for playing! Reload the page to try again for another ending. There are 7 different ones!

You squat down and reach your hand out toward the cat. It leans its soft head into your hand, purring softly. Emboldened, you reach out to pick it up. It keeps purring. It smells like warm, clean laundry. You bury your face in its fur. It jumps out of your arms and scampers away down the street. It darts between two buildings, a narrow and dark space that you're //pretty// sure you could fit into. (set: $time to $time+1) Your watch reads 5:$time. [[follow it]] [[let it go->look around]]

You climb the stairs to your tiny studio apartment and stand in the doorway, looking at your little kitchen, your bed, your dresser, your bookcase. You cleaned your entire room yesterday--vaccuumed, washed the window, cleaned out your fridge, did the dishes. It just felt right. The one thing you didn't bother to do was laundry, and your clothes hamper is nearly overflowing. You take in the poster from your favorite movie that you've had since high school, the old chair you bought at a yard sale, the bulletin board covered in photgraphs, postcards, ticket stubs, fortune cookie fortunes. (set: $time to $time+2) Your watch reads 5:$time. [[sit on your bed]] [[go back outside]]

You squeeze yourself between the narrow buildings, shimmying through the passageway until you get to a spot where it widens out a little bit. The cat is sitting on an old carboard box, looking up at you expectantly. You have just enough room to sit down, so you do so, and the cat immediately climbs into your lap. (set:$time to $time+2)Your watch reads 5:$time. [[stay->stay 2]] [[go back to the street]]

You lean your head against the brick wall next to you. It's surprisngly warm in this little corner. The cat is purring in your lap, and you feel...safe. You stroke the cat, letting the noises of the city fade away, letting yourself and this gentle ball of fur become the only creatures in the universe. The minutes tick away. You do not look at your watch. You feel the atmosphere change, and you hold the cat to your chest and close your eyes. end. [[credits]]

You're starting to feel a little bit trapped in the small corner, so you get up to leave. You try to take the cat with you, but you can't fit through the passageway with it in your arms. It jumps down with a loud meow and you let it go, squeezing yourself back out into the street. (set: $time to $time + 1) [[look around]]

You sit on the bench in the peaceful street, watching the drifting snow. You take a deep breath, smelling the crisp air, the undercurrent of human-smell that is constantly present in the city, the wool of your own scarf. You tilt your head back feel the snowflakes kiss your cheeks. You catch one on your tongue. (set: $time to $time +1)Your watch reads 5:$time. [[look around]]

You sink down on your bed, pulling your favorite blanket around your shoulders, and stare at your bulletin board. There's the bracelet from the music festival you went to with a bunch of your friends last summer. A ticket stub from the first movie you went to with the first person you kissed. A keychain your brother gave you as a souvenir. A birthday card from your grandmother. A single stanza of a poem that you wrote late at night and were going to expand some day. Your entire life is tacked up here on this wall. In a few minutes, it will all be gone, vaporized as if it never even mattered in the first place. It didn't, you suppose. You pull a photograph off the wall, a group selfie your friend insisted on taking when all of you were at dinner for your birthday. All of you are laughing at some stupid joke that another friend had made right before the camera flashed. You study them, all of them, remembering their voices, their laughter. You look past the picture in your hand to all of the ones on the board: your family at the Grand Canyon, your seven-year-old self hand in hand with your childhood best friend, a cheesy human pyramid you built with your high school sports team. Your watch reads 5:21. You glance back at the picture in your hand and look at your own face, your smile, the light and life written on your face. //Then again, maybe it did matter all along.// end. [[credits]]

Your room is familiar, and comforting, and utterly stifling. You don't stay a moment longer than you have to, switching off the light as you go, and practically running down the familiar staircase back out into the street. (set: $time to $time+1) [[look around]]

"No, thanks," you call politely back up to the man. "I'm good here." "Are you sure?" he says. "I have champagne." He holds up a bottle and two glasses. "And it's a beautiful view." (set: $time to $time +1) Your watch reads 5:$time. [[be with someone->go up to the roof]] [[be alone]]

You emerge from the ladder to the top of your building. The man in the tuxedo is standing with his back to you, looking out over the city, a glass of champagne in his hand. He hears you scrambling out onto the roof and his face lights up. "Hey, you made it! Here, let me pour you some champagne." He sets his own glass down on the edge of the roof and grabs the bottle. You don't know much about champagne, but you do know that this is a //very// expensive bottle. "Tonight," he says as he pours, "we are celebrating life." "Hence, the tuxedo?" you say, taking the glass. "Exactly." He walks to the edge of the roof and sits, legs dangling over the edge. You sit next to him. "So," he says, "what do you do for a living?" [[the truth]] [[a more exciting lie]]

"I'd rather be alone, thanks." He nods, understanding. "Alright, then. Goodbye." "Goodbye." He disappears, leaving you the only one on the street. (set: $time to $time+1) [[look around]]

Your feet move almost without you bidding them to, and suddenly you're running down the street, feeling the concrete pound beneath your boots. You slip a little on the wet snow and steady yourself, not slowing down. You open your mouth and yell, a scream that starts wordless but suddenly has words, and you have no idea what you're saying but all that you're aware of is yourself and your burning lungs and your straining muscles and how //alive// you are and you run and run and run and run and //fly// end. [[credits]]

There's not //really// enough snow to make a snow angel, but you tip back and let yourself fall anyway, feeling your body thud against the cold concrete of the sidewalk. You move your arms and legs, displacing the inch or so of snow, carefully using your legs to smooth out the little mound of snow that pushes up between them. Your watch reads 5:21. Wet snow on the skin on the back of your neck, cold stone under your back, snowflakes in your eyelashes and on your lips. Breath in your lungs, your pounding heart. You feel absolutely everything and think of nothing at all. end. [[credits]]

You tell him. "Nice," he says, in the classic small-talk tone of fake excitement. "I'm a teacher, myself. High school English. See what a decidedly normal conversation we're having right now?" "Absolutely," you say, looking out over the city. A firework arcs into the sky and bursts over your head, sending a shower of green sparks that mix with the snowflakes. "Nice weather we've had the past couple days." "Checked my weather app this morning and it said it's supposed to snow for at least three more days." "Maybe it'll never stop." He holds up his glass. "To snow," he says. "To snow." You drink. It's the best champagne you've ever tasted. Your watch reads 5:21. A hush falls over the city. You look at the man sitting next to you. He looks at you and smiles. "Here we go." "To Earth," you say, holding up your glass. "To Earth," he agrees. You both drink, and watch as the sky slowly starts to glow. end. [[credits]]

"I'm a professional deep sea treasure hunter," you say. "Wow!" he exclaims. "Now how does one get into a profession like that?" "Well, I started out as a pearl diver, but I got bored of it after a while. You can only punch a shark in the face so many times before they all start to look the same." You take a sip of champagne. It's the best thing you've ever tasted. "And yourself?" "By day I'm a mild-mannered teacher, but by night I'm actually a superhero." "Really?" you say. "That's the best you've got?" He feigns deep offense. "Hey! I am trying to bare my soul to you here." "You're right, you're right, I'm sorry." Your watch reads 5:21. A hush is falling over the city. You hold up your glass. "To Earth," you say. "To Earth," he agrees. You both drink. "So," you say. "Do you have a costume, and if so, does it look like you're just wearing tights and underwear?" "Oh, please, modern superheroes left the tights and underwear thing behind a long time ago. My //armor// is nothing but stylish." "You'll have to forgive me for being a little out of touch with modern superhero culture, I do spend most of my life under the sea." He laughs, and neither of you are looking at the time, and neither of you are looking at the sky. end. [[credits]]