Ever since the clock striked 12 on New Year’s everybody had this one thing on their minds, “On December 21, 2012 the world is going to end.” And who can blame them? The Mayans have done a great job in making calendar and they have a gift on predicting things. If you are not familiar with their prediction, here’s a little quotation from a good professor:
Misinterpretation of the Mesoamerican Long Count calendar is the basis for a popular belief that a cataclysm will take place on December 21, 2012. December 21, 2012 is simply the day that the calendar will go to the next b’ak’tun, at Long Count 184.108.40.206.0. The date on which the calendar will go to the next piktun (a complete series of 20 b’ak’tuns), at Long Count 220.127.116.11.0.0, will be on October 13, 4772.
Sandra Noble, executive director of the Mesoamerican research organization Foundation for the Advancement of Mesoamerican Studies, Inc.(FAMSI), notes that “for the ancient Maya, it was a huge celebration to make it to the end of a whole cycle”. She considers the portrayal of December 2012 as a doomsday or cosmic-shift event to be “a complete fabrication and a chance for a lot of people to cash in.”
– Professor Wikipedia
Now I’m a firm believer that it is only God who can predict and tell on which day and how will the world end. So it was very surprising and alarming for me to realize one night that I was about to dream how the world would end. Now before I tell my story, be aware that I am no saint. And most probably my dream is just a dream, nothing more. People should not predict and foretell that I have foreseen the conclusion of this world. Mind you, I still want to live in the old age of 80 and above. So if you don’t mind, sit back, relax and let your imagination wander.
The world was just how it was, more so my country and everyone around me was just how it was and how they were. The clouds as gloomy as ever, grey clouds seem to encompass the sky as if heavy rains will be with us any minute. To my surprise, it was not the drizzle of the rain or the heavy wind that got me, it was the familiar formation of clouds that I have seen before. The clouds were encircling the sky, lightning was everywhere and the clouds became darker and darker. And soon you realize that there was a tornado that would sweep all living entities of the Earth.
The world is a huge graveyard. Priests who have no faces, wearing brown robes started lining up, praying something in Latin, or a language that I just couldn’t understand. Jennifer and I started hiding. Then there was this priest who looked at us. There was no face at all. Cause its head is covered by his hood. So we ran away. I ran with Jennifer. There was this big structure that remained. Like it was a holding room, before we die. People started panicking one by one. People started becoming unconscious as if their souls are gone. And then Jennifer went somewhere else. I did not see her anymore. She ran away. So I started looking for her, knowing that we should stick together. While looking for Jennifer, I bumped into Celina. I told her, “I think were about to die.” and Celina said, “Yeah, I know.” She smiled at me, I asked worriedly, “Why are you not worried?” She said, “There’s no more suffering, were free” and then she ran past me happily.
I thought to myself, maybe this was good. “I am still nineteen anyways. Ha! Ha!” And then I started crying, I started running. I bumped into Sunny who was with her mom and sister and with the other Koreans. And the Chinese were with the Chinese, the Americans with their own kind, the British, the Germans. I started looking for my parents. I shouted their names. Someone even scolded at me because I was so noisy. And then I saw my dad and he called me, I saw my mom. She said, “She’s starting to panic.” while looking at me very worried. And then I was telling myself, “No! Wake up! Wake up! This can’t be happening right now.”
As soon as the dream started fading away, I slowly realize I was still at my room with my Edgar Allan Poe book right beside me. I quickly cried on how scary it was to dream such horrible nightmare. Realizing how thankful I was to be alive, I was crying happily that I am still not dead and how grateful I was that it was just a dream. Not knowing what the cause of that dream was, I started recalling what things I have read or watched the night before. I looked over the Edgar Allan Poe book, and to which short story I ended, the book was opened at “Duc de L’Omelette.”
Whatever the cause is, I’m still glad that I am alive. But then again, maybe it was Edgar’s fault. or maybe its not.