[ WP ] In a corner of a public library there is a computer . Anything posted to the internet from that computer becomes true .

I walk in as I did any other day. Look the way I did before I knew. Do my best to avoid the eyes of the librarians, but they're all watching me. I flash my card at the one at the desk and they let me in, their heads turning slowly, keeping in line with me as if I were the only thing in the room. 
 
 I swiftly turn down the first isle and break vision, but I know they're still watching. They know I used the computer. They know what I caused. A stupid, sarcastic comment. That's all it was meant to be.. That's all it should have been. 
 
 I slink through the maze of books to the furthest corner of the library, dodging the ever watchful eyes of the librarians. I do n't know why, but something is off about them today. They all have this same, cold stare. They all say not a word. They all follow me, slowly, several paces behind. 
 
 Are there more of them today? No matter. I'm already at the desk. Already with my hands on the keyboard. I press on the computer and it begins to humm faintly, the fan turning. The sound grows loud, but this part of the library is well contained, the computer'a cries are absorbed by surrounding bookshelves. 
 
 I tap my finger on the mouse impatiently as it boots up. I need this ready NOW. A distant rumble, like thunder, shakes the building. I've still got time. I must. 
 
 The screen lights up its familiar, dull, white screen. I waste no time and open the page I was on that day several months ago, a Reddit thread about politics. And there, exactly as I remembered, lay my comment. 
 
 `` If Obama is elected, it'll be the end of America. RIP.'' 
 It and it's glorious 256 down votes. 
 
 How was I supposed to know it would become real? I hastily click delete. Finally going back on my words. I let out a sigh of relief and lean back in the chair. 
 
 Then another, deeper, closer rumble. This time with the whispering whistle of each bomb as it falls. 
 
 Shit. It's still not fixed. I click `` create a new comment'' and begin writing. 
 
 `` If Obama is elected America will prosper!'' My hairs stand up and my skin tightens. I ca n't believe what I'm writing. I submit it, then close my eyes and listen. 
 
 Yet, there still, the whistling grows louder. The rumbles closer. I frantically type in other comments. `` Obama will save America.'' `` Obamas election will not lead to Americas distraction'' `` Obam..-'' 
 
 There is a hand on my shoulder. I turn quickly, panicked. One librarian stands with his hand on my shoulder. Once my eyes meet his, he quietly shakes his head. Behind him, every other librarian stares at the floor. 
 
 I frantically apologize to them all, over and over again. Tears overtaking my face. The librarian pulls me to his chest, and I easily burry myself in it. 
 
 The shriek is above us now, the sky blanketed in fire that can be seen through the sounds themselves. Everything quiets at once. The screen, black. 
 

