'So this is how it all ended?' I muse, 'Not with a bang but with a slow shuffling of feet and wary glances thrown towards the heavy wooden door painted a faded green.' I let out a sigh and skipped the weird song about moss I added on a drunken whim a few days ago to replace it with the comforting rage of rock to whisper through my earphones into my ear.

  "Can't laugh, can't cry, can't live, can't die…"

  To think my years at this shithole would end how it started, utter confusion and disillusion with the academic system. Given my track record, it wasn't a massive surprise, but you'd expect a little more structure two weeks before our final exam; alas, here I was; here we all were sitting, around doing fuck all in a product design room, waiting for our teacher to bless us with his presence. Or, more accurately, for him to stop playing hide the pickle with the Blonde woman who was meant to be teaching English a few corridors down.

  Or so the rumours say. Well, rumours and the fact that he is consistently late with ruffled clothes and messy hair. Which means he was either cheating on his wife, the lovely lady who baked us cakes once. 'Not that I could eat them', or he consistently gets lost in non-existent gale force winds. Either way, his absence is likely illegal, considering the heavy machinery in the room and the fact that not everyone in this class has turned 18 yet.

  "What a time to be alive. Such a waste of fucking time…" the song screeched into my ear to a catching tune.

  Potential safety lawsuit aside, I glance at the clock and note that it's already been 15 minutes since the class was meant to start. 'At least someone is getting some,' I think as I spin upon my swivel chair as if it were a rickety throne of faded felt and plastic, observing my surroundings with disinterest.

  The product design classroom felt dull and lifeless even as its students shuffled around the large wooden benches stained with paint and varnish. The large windows dominating the eastern wall let in the little bit of sun the dreary English weather would allow. The pale white walls with lime green stripes of paint were faded with age and did nothing to liven up the anxiety-ridden air and sullen looks of its inhabitants, most of whom waited for Mr Smith like he was a saver rather than the one dooming us.

  The large room used to be bustling with students using tools, machines and computers for their projects, expressing themselves creatively and using their hands and knowledge to make something they could be proud of. But now, the simple and worn furniture was covered in forgotten tools and half-finished projects as we awaited information about the exam. Hell, even knowing what exam boards were meant to be studying for would be helpful at this point.

  Not that knowing what mishmash of letters I was studying under would do me much good; I wasn't what one would call academically gifted, or gifted in any way, to be honest, unless one counted collecting chronic illness or fantasising about mythical scenarios as an achievement. Which they don't. I checked. Twice.

  "Wanna fucking put a chainsaw through the wall…" The vocalist yelled through my small earbuds into my ears.

  'I am soooooooo fucking bored'

  I spin around on the swivel chair, waiting for the laser cutter to finish cutting out the parts I need. Like a few others, I was working on the coursework aspect instead of waiting for a good old Smithy boy to do his job. But that didn't mean I was having a riveting experience waiting for something to happen; laser cutters were slow, and I couldn't get that level of detail for my mechanical wooden cuckoo clock by hand.

  So that left me spinning around and pulling random levers on the reclining chair until I inevitably got lost within my own mind. 'I wonder why nobody wears a mask in zombie shows? I mean, the undead must smell terrible, plus it would stop blood splatter from getting into your mouth…'

  "Yo, Jacob you done on the laser cutter?" Hearing my name, I lazily tilt my head back over the backrest to see a mildly heavy young man with blond hair calling my name.

  "Oh heyyy Ashley, how are you doing?" I tilted my head again to look at the laser cutter I used to carve out the plywood pieces. "Looks like it's about halfway, so I should be done in about 15 to 20 minutes?"

  "Ah, I'm going to go smoke then, tell Smithy I've gone for a shit or something?" He responds while pulling the long white wires of his earphones out of his pocket.

  "Yeah, sure, will do, have fun." I reposition myself so that I'm sitting properly and facing Ashley.

  "Oh, you know I will have a great time thinking of you." He responds with a smirk as he finishes setting up his music and putting in one earphone. "Oh, you going to the party tonight?" he asks while tapping on his phone to choose a song.

  'Right, the party. Hanging out with people I don't like who don't remember my name ooooooor, staying at home pretending to be better. Hmmmm, decisions, decisions.'

  "Yeah, sure. See you there? I heard Mollys is going, though. Are you going to be alright?" I say, trying not to let boredom seep into my voice.

  "It's been weeks; she might even give me another chance if she's drunk enough." He says excitedly as if that statement didn't have problematic undertones. "Anyway, send me a message when you're done." With that, he turned around and headed off to wherever it was, where people went to smoke. It was behind the bike sheds. It smelt horrible and fucked up my asthma. Not worth it.

  "Toodles." I give a brief wave goodbye before spinning on my chair to meet my friend Ella's eyes. I give a thin-lipped and wide-eyed smile to express my exasperation at our "lesson." She responds with an eye roll before continuing her conversation with Beth, one of the few 17-year-olds left in the class.

  "But I can't seem to stay awake anymore, oh…" I turn up the volume slightly on the button attached to the long, thin, white cable as I contemplate the vast mysteries of my life or, more accurately, the last few years I've slogged through.

  Such as one of my newer... Acquaintances?...Friends? 'Friends sound better, so let's go with that.' Ella was a tall young woman with short blonde hair, glasses, and a cheerful, if slightly nervous, personality. She was one of the five delightful individuals in my current friendship group. The last group and I drifted apart because I was "weird" and "boring." I would prefer to phrase it as "creative" and "not interested in the mundane march to death," which others may call depression, but each to their own.

  It didn't help that I was severely uncoordinated and lacking in the academic department. But I have been trying to remedy this more recently with copious amounts of organisation, planning, home workouts, and climbing, so I'm not a total lost cause. Maybe.

  I sigh and scratch at my aching scars, knowing the pain was just in my head, but it was a welcome reprieve from the dull numbness that fills my system like a biblical flood.

  Glancing at the laser cutter and noticing its slow progress my mind begins to wander towards my current hyper fixation of undead apocalypse again. 'Why do people never put any armour on? Surely, even wrapping a magazine around your forearm is better than nothing? I can't bite through it, so it should at least be an idea. Unless the undead become stronger?'

  I quickly glance around the room and notice that nothing has changed. But then again, nothing ever changes.

  'I swear I would make a better survivor than most of the idiots shown in media. Actually, I'd die after I ran out of meds or because I forgot something stupid. Unless I plan out loads of stuff because I have no life.'

  Looking around the room again, I note the unproductivity and general annoyance in the atmosphere. 'Well, I got nothing else to do, and it would make it look like I'm actually doing shit.'

  I whip out my notepad and take out a pen I keep in the sleeve of my jumper to write down a very basic rendition of the first things I would do if an apocalypse started while I was at school.

  'I have got to stop watching and reading things about apocalypses; it's starting to become obsessive.' I muse to myself before hearing the door open, making me look up from my messy notes and see the arrival of a slightly dishevelled Mr Smith. A tall, muscular man in his 40s with dark hair and what would be an intimidating presence if I could take him or anyone else seriously.

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  Seeing him enter the room, I stretch my back and pop my dysfunctional arm joints as I get ready to make notes on whatever last-minute bullshit, I mean lesson, Mr Smith decides to teach us.

  'Oh my god, I can't be asked for this boring bullshit', I sigh. 'But I did promise Mum, and only little bitches break promises.' I sign yet again and lower the song's volume as it screams about the pointlessness of life.

  "Oh, give me something to take the edge off, Something to kick the night off…"

  Turning my chair to face the front of the class, I prepare to take notes to get something into my thick skull before the exam. But as I move my pen to my notebook, I freeze. Not from sudden enlightenment or shock; I just simply couldn't move. Not even my eyes were spared from this new sensation.

  '...Well, this is new…'

  While I couldn't move my eyes, I could see that everything and everyone in my field of vision was also sharing this strange phenomenon.

  'Or maybe I'm just dying? Aaaand I still feel nothing from that prospect, although that may change if this is the afterlife, cause this shit will get old fast.'

  *Tap, tap* "Hello, is this thing on?" The silence of frozen time is suddenly shattered by what sounds like a flamboyant man sucking on helium and the tapping of a microphone.

  'Hello?'

  "Don't bother replying. I'm not listening to the whole of humanity; it would take too long, and quite frankly, I don't want to be inside your…. Unique minds." Says the same flamboyant voice as before as it indirectly replies.

  'Riiiiight, so either this is happening across the globe, or I am having a really lucid trip.'

  "Oh, crab buckets, I forgot the cameras. I apologise; I have a lot on my plate recently…"

  'This does not bode well for my future sanity.'

  “…Buying earth and…”

  'Wait, what.'

  "...all the preparations for the events. Ah, there we go."

  My vision was abruptly filled with bright colours that merged into what looked like a set of a game show. It was a large room with an elevated platform in the middle that looked like it was made from polished obsidian and giant screens covering the back wall, showing various locations worldwide, all frozen in time. Standing on the raised platform was a dapper young man in a tailored pink and white polka-dotted suit. While the fashion choice was odd, it pales in comparison to the man's head being a large multi-coloured wheel, which looks right at home on the game show set.

  'Ooooooookeyyyy???'

  "Ok, let's try this again," the dapper, wheel-headed man said as he lifted the microphone to where the mouth should be.

  'Why is he…it? Using a microphone if it can freeze time and doesn't even have a mouth?'

  "Hello, Humanity!!! Welcome to the soon-to-be hit TV show of the gods, The Wheels of Jeremy! I am your buyer, owner, and host, Jeremy!" he says while waving his long, lanky arms in grand gestures.

  'I'm not dreaming, but maybe I've gone into a coma or something…'

  "The past owner and creator of the Earth was dissatisfied with thier creation and decided to sell it at auction to the highest bidder, me! Jeremy!" He brings his arms up as bright neon lights are projected onto his body while the wall of TVs flashes with the words Jeremy in different colours and fonts.

  '...Which is odd because I was healthy…relatively healthy… I have been functional throughout the last few weeks, and only now is something odd happening. Wow, this guy really loves his own name.'

  "Now you may be wondering what's going on and why…"

  'Nope, I clearly know why time is frozen and why I am being forced to watch a game show presenter talk about buying earth; no need to explain.'

  "But have no fear because I, Jeremy! will explain everything!" He announces with more grand hand gestures and a quick spin on the balls of his feet.

  'This constant self-introduction is going to get annoying. Brain please focus!'

  "You see, Gods such as myself, Jeremy!, can't usually interfere directly with planets unless certain conditions are met. One such condition is irreversible pollution and climate change. Which the creatively named planet Earth, model 626, timeline B13 has fulfilled. So now I, Jeremy! Can interfere in this beautiful planet and add it to the hit Godley show "The Wheels of Jeremy!" The screens behind him show the vast amount of pollution on the planet and the effects of climate change.

  'Huh'

  "But with this condition, the ones responsible for the irreversible condition of the planet need to be punished while the innocent are allowed to walk free. So, first of all, humanity can no longer reproduce! Secondly, those aged 0-17 will be removed from this world and put into a false paradise reality." He snaps his fingers, and I feel a wave of what can only be described as cosmic power wash over me.

  'That 's going to make that Sarah 's baby shower really awkward, wonder If I still have to go'

  "Those aged 18 - 38 are left in the new world to experience and participate in the wheels of Jeremy as they are neither guilty nor innocent. Lastly, those over the age of 38 will die instantly with their corpses left behind to reflect their sins" He snaps his fingers again, and another wave washes over me.

  ‘Ah… the baby shower is definitely off, mum can't make me go if she and everyone else is dead. Wait what?’

  …

  'Ok…ok, this makes perfect sense, no need for confusion and panic at all…

  …

  …we are 100% going to die in a game show run by a God with a wheel for a head who just killed Mum and Dad. Oh, for fuck sake, brain focus, something about corpses? Stereotypically, that would mean undead monsters or something, right? And the game show has something to do with wheels? So chaos?

  Now, let's see. Fewer people mean supply lines and governments will be significantly disrupted, while wheels suggest things will be left purely up to chance. That, along with potential corpse monsters, leaves us with the high likelihood of an apocalyptic scenario.

  …

  Well shit this Jeremy fella may have lost his mind but at least he's making things interesting'

  "Now, away from the boring conditions and whatnot, and onto the exciting stuff! The wheels of Jeremy! Firstly, all humans have a highly adaptive body that allows them to become stronger, faster and breakthrough human limits given enough time. How great is that!?! You guys get to become super strong!" He flexes his biceps, and they grow to an unnatural size. The screens are once again changed to show a montage of people training at a gym and running through sunny natural parks with oversized smiles that are far too big to be natural or even human for that matter. "Plus, all existing physical medical conditions are cured!!!" Confetti explodes onto the stage as Jeremy holds his arms out wide.

  'So people can become faster and stronger with greater ease, but mental conditions are left in a potentially hostile environment. Basically asking for conflict.'

  "And as a slight side bonus, humans no longer produce waste! Because most gods, such as me, Jeremy! Don't want to watch that." The screens show people using the toilets with a big red cross over them.

  'That was an image I could have lived without, but at least IBS is gone.'

  "Now you may all be wondering where the wheels come into the equation, but worry not, I Jeremy! will explain it all. This is where the fun begins, after all! The first Wheel is the Wheel of power that all humans get to spin at least once, which grants them a random ability!" Humans-wielding superpowers pop up on the screens.

  'Oh?'

  "The second Wheel is my, Jeremy's! Personal favourite the Wheel of Events! This Wheel will decide the weekly random events humanity must pass to survive." The screens flashed rapidly, showing short snippets of monsters and natural disasters ravaging the globe and decimating various humanoid looking creatures.

  'Oooooh, we are so fucked.'

  "Many of you will die, but that is a sacrifice that I, Jeremy! Am willing to make for humanity's growth and Godly entertainment! But worry not I, Jeremy! Have prepared a few things to try and reduce the risk of the extinction of humanity. Firstly, 7 humans, one from each continent, will be chosen randomly to get 3 more spins on the Wheel of Power!" His wheel-shaped head spins rapidly as if to emphasise his point.

  "Secondly, at the end of each week, humanity will be given access to an interdimensional shop where they can spend the points they earned during the weekly event and challenges."

  'Challenges?'

  "Thirdly, you will all have an inventory space like in one of your video games, things you are all so fond of. This allows you to carry around all kinds of exciting things!"

  'Useful.'

  "Lastly, there will be no spinning of the event wheel in the first week. Only four set events will happen throughout the week. The first is the reduction of the population and the spinning of the Wheel of power for those who are left. The rest will be a surprise that will help alter the world into our little playground." He says the last part like he's whispering a naughty little secret only we know as he lifts his hand to where his mouth should be.

  'That's not super ominous at all. Properly has something to do with the sins of the corpses he mentioned earlier. But If there is no wheel spinning, does that mean we can't use the shop in the first week?'

  "Oh, and before I forget, you all will experience excruciating pain for ten seconds before you are allowed to spin the wheel because we all know there will be someone out there saying "It's all a dream," He says in an overly dramatic hysterical voice and makes quotation marks with his fingers.

  "Now without further ado, let the fun begin and let the wheels spin!"