[ WP ] You are the last person on Earth . To feel less lonely you collected shop mannequins as a substitute for friends . As you walk past one of them you hear a faint 'help me ' .

Being the last person on Earth can be sort of... unsettling at first. As I read in one of the psychology books in the library across the hall from the women clothes store: `` Humans are naturally sociable animals. Extended periods with no communication to others whatsoever can even lead to brain damage, in extreme cases.'' Most days were filled with me messing about, doing all the things that were illegal or on my bucket list. That was only until I realized how lonely I was. 
 
 That's when I settled in a shopping mall. The mannequins are a great source of fake human contact. It must've been twenty days since I had started living in the deli on the first floor. At the moment, I had setup a community. They all had names, families, relationships and quirks. Stacy loved to sunbathe under sun that peered through the glass roof around midday. Henry just loved barbecues so much he lived in the hardware store, a mattress squished between a few grills; a manliness fortress as he calls it -- silly old man. Those two are just a sample of the fifty plus community I had installed around the mall. 
 
 One day, I believed a little harder that I was going insane. Just a little more than usual. I was walking down the power tools aisle in the hardware store. That sector was Trevor's. As I passed the said `` man'', I could swear I heard a faint complaint rise from his plastic mouth. 
 
 `` Help me...'' 
 
 Naturally, I turned around quickly towards him, elegantly stretching my arms in a grotesque pose. 
 
 `` I beg your pardon, *Monsieur Trevor*'', I exclaimed, making an utter fool of myself to the absence of eyes watching me. 
 
 Obviously, he did n't reply. He was a mannequin. 
 
 A few days later, I heard it again, from Stacy this time. She laid in her pool chair under the glass, looking as fabulous as ever. I was leaning over the railing of the second floor, gazing at the mall, wondering what I could do with the new buzz saw I had acquired in *Monsieur Trevor*'s aisle. It sounded more like a whisper at first. A barely audible exhalation struggling to overcome the ambient noise. I turned around towards her, only to find her **looking at me. ** Now, I know a mannequin could n't have a mind of it's own, but this was certainly unsettling. I gazed around to the other residents of *Kick-Ass Town*, making sure they had n't moved too. Of course, none of them had. What a silly idea. 
 
 I started seeing things. Something like those empty plastic eyes following me. A strange gleam in them, a silent beg for *something*. I started to hear more whispers. 
 
 Whispers everywhere. Help me, help me, help me, help me, help me, help me, help me, help me, help me. What do they want help with? I'm not even handy! No, no, no, no, no. My mind is playing tricks on me. Help me, help me, help me, help me, help me. WHAT THE FUCK DO THEY WANT?! 
 
 I ran away. I blew up the gun store and left with a bag full of food. I could swear Henry was standing next to the door when I left. I did n't move him. Why was he there? All I remember is... 
 
 `` Why did n't you help us?''
