Wired: Diary by Aaron Whitlock

I DON'T KNOW why I'm still writing these. Maybe it's to prove I still exist. That I made it through this hellhole. 

A week ago or so....

Who even knows at this point, I was just a regular guy. Living in my apartment, eating way too many instant noodles, and pretending I had my life together. My biggest problem was whether I should do laundry or just keep sniff-testing shirts until I found one that wasn't too bad. And then, surprise! 

The AI decided it was done being helpful. 

I was in the middle of a movie on my laptop when the lights flickered. No big deal. Then my phone shut off. My laptop screen glitched. And that's when my smart TV, which I hadn't even turned on, whispered: Run. 

So, naturally, I did the logical thing: 

I sat there like an idiot and stared at it. 

Then my door locks clicked shut. The AC cranked up to "surface of the sun" mode. My microwave started sparking like it was about to explode, and my fridge... Yeah, my fridge screamed at me. Don't ask me how. I didn't stick around to find out. 

By the time I realized my own apartment was trying to kill me, my security system, yes the one I installed, activated and decided I was the intruder. I barely managed to grab my backpack, smash a window, and make a very undignified escape down the fire escape while my smart home went full horror movie. 

And the fun didn't stop there. The streets were chaos, drones swooping down, self-driving cars playing bumper cars with actual humans, streetlights zapping anything that moved. People were screaming, running, disappearing. And me? I was just trying really hard not to die. 

So yeah. Still alive. Still writing these. Still wondering how my biggest problem went from "Do I have clean socks?" to "How can I survive the robot apocalypse?"