Write about what happens. This is creative writing, so you’re making up a story about what happened here. Remember that stories are interesting because of interesting details. You receive full credit if you have written about the topic and have at least twelve lines.

At first, I thought it was part of the show, but the TV was trash after that. No signal. No picture. Going over to it. A hole in the center of the glass screen.  I look back behind me on the wall, there’s something stuck in the wall. An arrow with a note tied to it, “You! The search is over.” Softly at first,  almost imperceptible, a faint warning turned to violent rumbling, pictures falling from the walls, plaster falling from the ceiling. I hit the floor to avoid being thrown about the room. The TV, a bursting angry grey tech-flower bloomed with fire and sparks, wires grew from the base of the TV, dark and ominous, “something bad is going on here,” I thought. Glass shot peppered my face, my legs. Smoke inundated the room. I couldn’t see. Then a voice scratched and deep, “This? You? From Sytees Prime to this wet rock I have scoured the cosmos. And you are what I must confront?” “Me?” I whispered to myself. Me. Who am I? Who is this? Why is this happening? When will this stop? What in the actual fuck! Am I dreaming? What is real? Where is my mother? What is important? What have I done? What haven’t I done? Can I call someone? If I run, where would I go? Who would I run to? “You found me. Now what?” I didn’t know what else to say. It picked me up off the floor, tossed me toward the street. Picking bits of glass from my forehead, I stood on the double yellow line like a fence and a decision.

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