#Spencer TWWAI | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

straydogingodshotcar · 7 months ago

Text

CHAPTER 1

the big bang

He stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom. His mostly black hair with the bleached stripe in front where the blue dye faded completely. His eyes looked weirdly brown in this lighting. What was he doing again? Right! Music. Can't forget the music, otherwise he doubted he’d make it to school alive. “We’ll meet again” by.. ahh, who cares. He could never remember the names of musicians.

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↳ currently playing …

We’ll meet again - Vera Lynn

0:56 ———•—————— 3:02

↺ << ll >> ⋮≡

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ: ————|—

Spencer wasn't the most likable guy in his school, he was considered “too cocky” or “too loud” most of his life. He never understood why, since most of the time he was actually quite off the record. Hell, he had his headphones on 24/7 and didn't even really talk to his friends in class. Maybe it was because when he did he was loud. He didn’t know how to regulate his volume so it was like a bass boosted rave worthy noise when he talked. It didn’t help that he played sports and was extremely competitive. Maybe that's where they got “cocky” from.. eh, who cared, he sure didn’t. He liked being confident and if that ticks them off, even better.

He was halfway to the bus stop when he realized he forgot his wallet. Shit, of course I remember a muffin but not the thing I told myself to remember (he did not in fact remind himself of his wallet earlier). He would either have to beg his friend for money or go hungry. Hah, that rhymed. It wasn’t long before he completely gave up caring about his missing wallet or half-tied shoelaces. They came undone before he even made it to the stop sign, which annoyed him, but he was in a rush this morning. He only got halfway through re-tying them before the bus showed up. He stuffed the rest of his muffin down his throat and climbed the stairs into the shitbox the school called a functioning bus. indigestion is gonna kick my ass later. He wasn’t too fond of the fact that if he ate something too fast it hurt his stomach like hell. He also wasn’t fond of people taking his seat on the bus. Which is what someone did. Again. For the 3rd time this week. Just this week.

That’s been my seat all year, what the hell man?

He sat a row behind his usual seat, thanking whatever created them that at least his second option was open. Last time the entire left side of the bus was filled with obnoxious laughing and screaming, reeking of middle schoolers and hung over seniors. That really ticked him off, mostly because almost no one sat there the entire school year, and then one day decided the right side was too good for them and they had to have his spot. I’m getting distracted, where were we? School

The bus pulled up in a sluggish, sloth like fashion. With the bus going maybe 2 mph creeping to a halt, he threw the heavy bag over his shoulder and scooted to the end of the squeaky seat. He doubted they were even going above 3 mph, 2 was already pushing it. But they eventually made it to the sidewalk, where they all got off in a single file line, like ants. He compared people to ants a lot, not because he was tall or anything or because he thought people were tiny little bugs. It was because they were all so small compared to the universe. Walking through halls, driving in traffic, riding bikes down a dirt trail, they all followed readily made paths like ants in an ant hill. And the ones that made their own paths? Well, they work three times as hard to do it. He liked people like that, instead of the ones that judged people for even just being a little out of the ordinary. The ones that bullied “weird kids” were the real weirdos. He didn’t get the point of it if we’re all just ants on a big floating space rock in the vastness of a universe our minds can’t even properly comprehend the size of. Dark matter, supernovas, black holes, white holes, stop talking about holes.

English class first period. Ugh. He loathed ELA with every fiber of his being, especially this early in the morning. Curse you, Mr.A for making my schedule hell. He loved writing though, don’t get him wrong. It’s just that the teacher made him feel trapped in the confines of a zoo. A barely engaging environment with tricks you have to perform so specifically it feels like you’re punished for a single pitter patter instead of patter pitter difference in your steps. In this class, you might as well copy and paste the words from your screen into a google doc and hit “Share & Export” in the same 4 minutes. He actually did that and got an A once. Still surprised it worked. But it didn’t work the second time, she caught on unfortunately. So he started putting them through google translate 5 times over and then fixing any mistakes. It was annoying when he got a B for those ones, and then got caught again. It was seriously killing his mood in the morning when he checked his grades, and while she didn’t change his earlier grades, she started grading him worse thinking he was plagiarizing every time.

I was.. but only a sentence or two when I couldn't figure out how to word something, okay?

He slept through most of the class today, only bothering to open his eyes when she would clear her throat or the thunderstorm rolling in spooked him awake. They were supposed to be writing an essay on “Romeo and Juliet” and the way it would be interpreted in modern day. He had finished it the day it was assigned, as usual. Maybe he was a little cocky. He never liked the play, it was too.. bitter sweet. He preferred endings where everything either ended happily, or everyone died. Both can be pretty interesting if you string it right. It can be an illusion, a dystopian world where the main character is imagining everythings a-okay, or a story where everyone dies to something like the planet exploding. His dream was mostly just him listening to music on a weird, feverishly blistered and battered meteor looking down at earth. It was speeding towards New York (at least that’s what it looked like) and as he looking down, BOOM, the eagle has landed. Black, nothingness, consumed by the darkness and the small bits of lights that rapidly appeared and disappeared. Before he knew it, the bell rang and he was scrambling up to get his backpack on and get out the door.

He said goodbye to his teacher, I’m bored, not a douche, and sped down the hall. He narrowly avoided knocking people over on his way, and barely noticed when he bumped into the lockers. That's gonna leave a bruise for sure. ouch. He finally sat in his class, about 3 minutes before the bell would actually ring for tardiness. But he liked to be there early so he didn't have to go through 10 desks of people to get to his table. He learned that lesson the hard way when his history teacher, Mr.Harvey, pointed out Spencers was in the middle of the classroom. He hated that first day so much, having to shuffle through 10 filled desks with barely enough room for his ass to fit through. And he does not have that much of an ass.

“If misinformation spreads far enough, it becomes fact. And if it becomes fact, it becomes history.” That was probably his favorite quote from his U.S. history teacher.

He said it every time the class talked about U.S. history, he was very adamant about teaching the real history even if it was technically off the books, which Spencer enjoyed. He liked learning about history as a whole. It was interesting to him. Hell, he once used an entire class period to teach them all about certain illnesses and how long it's been an issue since colonization all up until present day. It didn’t always make the most sense but he wasn't complaining about the lack of homework, personally. The bell rang, the class only felt like 5 minutes, partially because he enjoyed it and partially because he fell asleep at his desk again. He was talking about theories relating to unconfirmable events written about in people's diaries back in 1718. Or was it 1817? Fuck, I'm gonna fail this next quiz. Although he wasn’t expecting to get another theoretical history lesson in physics, who would?, he got one.

“The Big Bang theory is the theory that the universe was originally just a compressed ball of matter that, as the name sort of suggests, implod.. ed..” The teacher's voice trailed off as the announcements came over the school.

“Attention students and staff, apologies for the interruption, this is a formal warning issued by NASA as a result of an upcoming cosmic level event. As of Wednesday, May 22nd at 10:15 am, school is officially out for the rest of the week, as well as the week following. There will be an email issued shortly explaining the events and actions being taken.” The announcer's voice trembled, what the hells going on?

Everyone in the class was just as confused as he was. Some were panicked, some were on their phones not caring. He wasn't sure what to think. They were just talking about the big bang theory, now they were talking about having 2 weeks off of school for something NASA was worried about? How bad could it possibly be? He doubted it was that big of a deal. Maybe a solar flare that’ll cut the power, he joked to the student next to him. He looked terrified. And the news article opened on his phone that read “IS THE WORLD FINALLY COMING TO AN END?” didn’t help that sinking feeling Spencer was now getting. The teacher quickly assured them that it would be okay, and that he’d look to see what the issue was. Okay this might actually be bad. He hoped it was a false alarm, or something. Anything. Literally anything.

“We-.. we’re all gonna die..” the guy next to him spoke up.

“What the fuck are you on about?” Spencer demanded, expecting someone to explain whatever chaos was happening in space. He wasn't excited for the answer. The shaking, now crying person next to him slid the phone in front of Spencer and let him read. No fucking way.. Didn't he just have a dream about this? A meteor hitting earth, destroying it all in one big blast like the dinosaurs? Fuck.

Fucking shit balls.

“The Big Bang” . .

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