Writing Prompt: Happy New Year Message

For the first writing prompt of the year, what's more appropriate than a New Years' themed writing prompt? This weeks exercise comes from writersdigest.com, and it goes like this:

• At exactly midnight on New Year's Eve, you receive an e-mail labeled "Open Immediately." The really strange thing is that the e-mail is apparently from your future self.  What does it say?

This prompt originally called for a mere 500 words.  I just wrote stuff until it felt complete.  A bunch of interesting possibilities came to mind, and some of them could potentially be whole new novels.

My response for this prompt is as follows:
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     Just as the fireworks exploded in the sky and splashed vibrant colors over the city block, my phone vibrated.  I couldn't even hear its ringtone over the booming fireworks and the noise from the cheering crowd.  Brandishing the phone, I opened a new e-mail message; I assumed it was a friend or family member giving me a New Year's greeting.
     The message I saw simply read:

Get to 175th Street, now.
RPG

      RPG:  Robert Paul Grazer, was my name and initials.  I signed every e-mail with those three letters, and chances were small that anybody else had those same initials in all e-mails.  One more detail in the header perplexed me:  the message was sent on January 1st, 2025.  That was twelve years into the future.
     It had to be a joke, or a hoax.  I was compelled to ignore it, but something in my conscience convinced me otherwise.  There was an irrational sense of dread and anxiety creeping over me, and with each passing second, it grew worse.  To quell the growing unease, I started moving.  Pushing past the others in the street, I left the main road and started toward 175th Street.
     Traversing away from the crowd, I trotted further away from the city center and further away from the fireworks.  I brushed past some happy, drunken revelers, but otherwise, the streets were mostly empty.  Everybody was in the city center in celebration, and I felt strangely displaced by breaking away from the crowd.
     Suddenly, an earth-shattering roar cut across the sky, drowning out the booming fireworks.  Looking back, I saw a giant metal disc plummeting from the sky.  Its sides were aglow in red-hot flames.
     The saucer-shaped object sliced through a skyscraper, cutting through the top floors cleanly.  The cleaved piece of the building slid and fell into the streets with the sound of crashing glass and metal echoing in the air.
     Continuing into the city center, the disc cut through the fireworks display, with colors lights bouncing off the glowing hull.  Screams erupted all across the square, before the disc slammed into the concrete road.  Many of the cries were silenced.  Seconds later, the sounds of scraping metal, electricity, and otherworldly mechanisms filled the block.
     With gut-wrenching realization, I suddenly knew the truth.  I did indeed send a message to myself from the future.  It was a warning to get out of ground zero and find safety.  Because a war was about to break out between the human race, and something else not of this world.