an autobiographical comic. it happened to me one night
this was developed for the Static Fish Fall 2024 comic anthology, purchasable at MoCCAFest!
(id under the cut)
[images id: a six-page digitally drawn comic titled "Emergency," by druid-for-hire. The subtitle reads, "The events depicted took place on August, 2024."
The first page shows a homely-looking, warmly-lit living room in the middle of the night. The digital clock on a TV cable box reads "2:43 AM." A figure sits on the couch on their laptop, at ease. The narration reads, "Of my family, I am the latest to sleep. The rest are all in bed by midnight. Maybe 1 AM at a stretch, or if it’s a holiday. After that, the house falls to me."
The second page shows a cable TV menu tuned to the channel "MeTV." There are drawings of the narrator from The Twilight Zone; Columbo; and Captain Kirk and Spock from Star Trek. The figure is lazily working on their laptop. The narration reads, "One summer, I developed a particular habit. Every night, when my parents were done watching the news and went to bed, I’d throw on MeTV. They aired nothing but shows from the 50s through to the 80s. Some of it was good. Twilight Zone. Columbo. Star Trek. Most of it I didn’t care about, but it didn’t actually matter; I just wanted the noise. I found vintage television comforting. I was soothed by 32mm film and STC mics." Then there is a sudden blue light shining on them from offscreen, and they look up. The narration reads, "One night…"
The third page shows an enormous blue screen with white bold text at the top reading "Emergency Alert System," the figure small in front of it. They look up in horror, lit all blue in darkness. The narration reads, "... there's an emergency."
The fourth page shows the figure still lit all in bright unnatural blue surrounded by darkness, scrambling for the right TV remote. The narration reads, "It's dead silent. All of a sudden, I can feel the darkness in the house. I don't care how important it is. I'm not getting the news like this. I'd get a panic attack before I got anything useful. Besides, the alarm is going to wake everyone up soon. I have to turn it off." Words appear on the screen, but they refuse to look and their head is blocking the words from the viewer. The narration reads, "Words appear. I can't even look." They turn it off with a click. Warmth and light returns to the room. They take a moment to breathe, then glance back up at the blank screen, and turn to their laptop and start typing.
The fifth page shows a portion of a history reading searches such as "is there an emergency alert in my area," "emergency alert system today," "breaking news nj," "weather in nj," and "emergency alert system august." The person looks nervous. The narration reads, "Nothing. If it's not some 2AM breaking news, it has to be nothing. I'd see it if there was. I lie near the city. Was it a test? EAS tests happen in the dead of night all the time. But the tests make sound. That's the whole point of them. This one didn't, even when the text came on. It just..." One more search says, "how old is the eas screen..." The narration reads, "Was it part of the recording? Couldn't have been. They say this EAS type is from 2016. After five minutes, I check if it's still on." There is a brief panel of blue with bold white words cut off and obscured by the silhouette of the figure. They turn it off again. "Still no sound. I can't look."
The sixth page shows the figure waiting in front of an enormous dead screen. Numbers from the digital clock on the cable box read "2:48," then "2:58." Tentatively, they click the remote and turn the TV on again. Star Trek is on the screen. The figure looks on in apprehension and subdued terror. The narration reads, "Star trek is back. Everything is fine. But I can't shake this feeling... like I missed something." end id]
