Apocalyptic fiction: Kids Today By Anninyn

I don’t know what the world’s coming to. I must have called the police a dozen times about all that screaming in the estate last night, but they were a no-show of course. Heard ‘em wailing about in the city centre though. Probably those ravers causing trouble again. I paid my taxes all my life, and they can’t be bothered to come help a scared old lady. Horrid little thugs shouting in the streets, smashing windows and all though the night that horrible screeching. Like nothing on earth I’ve ever heard. And no-one thinks of us decent sorts, stuck dealing with the filthy scum around here. Like rats, they just breed and make noise and mess everything up. We should bring back National Service, my Sam always said it’d sort them out.

It’s all quiet now, they shut themselves up just before dawn. After keeping me up all night too! I need my sleep. Must have drunk themselves into a stupor. I called the police again- local station, not emergency line, I’m not like those selfish idiots you see on the news- and there was just a recorded message. A recorded message! Something about ‘emergency’ and ‘keep calm’. I paid no attention. Just don’t want to bother with ordinary folk any more. Local coppers never been much good. It wouldn’t have happened in my day.

The TV and radio aren’t working either, only the BBC broadcasting -some bloody nonsense, what a waste, just a blue screen with words on, I’m not putting my specs on to see it- and the rest just static static static and I can’t afford to replace them on my pension. I should call my grandson to come fix it, but he won’t answer, he never does. Too busy for his old Grandma. He wears his hair too long, too. Looks a bit- you know. Never listens to me. Kids today.

I say kids but some of the worst of them are quite grown up. I’d be ashamed if I was their mother, my son was a good well-behaved boy, he never spent his nights shrieking and crying and turning over cars. In fact, they’ve already started up their noise again.I can hear what they’re saying now, but it doesn’t make any sense. “More Energy”, “More Siblings”, “Too Old” and other such rubbish. Probably drugs lingo. Trying to scare us decent people. They’re making it sound all strange, sort of whooping and howling, probably through those techno gizmos they all have. They look odd too- fashion, they call it, I don’t know, my mum would have never let me leave the house with my clothes all torn up like that- and their faces look twisted, somehow. Sort of- animal. Make-up, I’m sure of it. I’ve got a good mind to go out there and tell them what for. In fact, that’s just what I’ll do. Cowards these kids.

They’ll soon back off when they see I mean it.

anninyn

Anninyn lives and works in the UK, though she writes in a world of her own. Raised on a steady diet of sci-fi, intellectualism and political thinking by hippies, she looks at modern life through a somewhat-...unique... lens. She is obsessed with the apocalypse, and can be reached at anninyn@incaseofsurvival.com for all apocalypse-based inquiries. She is working on her first novel. You can find out about her and her other work through her website http://cbblanchard.com/

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