The End of Everything

We knew it was coming. There was nothing we could do. But all I knew was that I wanted to be with her. Only her.

​

The world was still trying to survive but even the experts said it was hopeless. People dug bunkers, stocked up with food, buried themselves underground with their loved ones, holding them as it all ended. But they’d die the same. As the experts have said, everyone is doomed. I didn’t know what to do with myself, not that anyone really did, but I knew that what I wanted was to not be alone. First thing I did, I called her. She answered immediately.

“Hey,” she said. She was calm.

“Hi,” I said back. Now hearing her voice, I was also calm. “Wanna come over?”

“Be there in five,” she said and hung up. Three minutes later, she knocked on my door. I opened it and let her in. She did her usual. Took two steps in, wiped her feet on the mat and then walked into the kitchen. Like clockwork.

“How are you?” I asked. She shrugged.

“End of everything,” she muttered, staring out the window. “Can't be in a good mood.” She looked back at me.

“You seem okay with it,” I said back, walking towards her. She shrugged again.

“I wasn’t, but then you called.” I smiled. It was the same for me. As soon as I saw her number dialling, I felt better.

“Glad I could help,” I chuckled. She turned her attention back to the window. I followed her. She was on the floor, crossed knees against the glass and eyes watching the horizon. I joined her.

“Whatcha see?” I asked softly. She smiled.

“Just the sky,” she said. “Wish I was painting it.”

“Why haven’t you.”

“You called,” she looked back at me. “Why aren’t you writing about it?”

I chuckled again. “What would you paint?”

“I told you, the sky.”

“But what part of it.

“All of it.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes, pushing her lightly. “You're being an arse.”

“I know.” She looked back at me and winked. Warmth spread through my chest.

The red light caught her face perfectly, intimately wrapping around her cheeks and jaw. Her skin looked smooth like porcelain apart from the few blemishes that she wasn’t embarrassed of enough to hide. Makeup-less. She had always been more comfortable that way. Her green eyes sparkled and glowed in the crimson light. Her hair shined in a deep black, matching the inky darkness outside, yet somehow more comforting. It had clearly been freshly washed. When did she have time to do that? I thought I was in a much lesser state. My beard had become scraggly and unkempt. My clothes were loose over my body, I had lost a lot of weight very quickly and hadn’t had time to shop for new clothes. She hadn’t been happy about that.

She looked back at the window, out into the collapsing world, the light still catching her features. Her beauty still etched into her. I forced myself away from her and looked outside again. My gut fell and the traces of my fear returned. Faced with reality again. I brought myself back into my mind, picturing it like it was a scene from one of my scripts.

​

The sky was blood red, filling the air with the fires and embers of the rocks that were hurtling towards the Earth’s surface. Oranges were folded and blended into the dark, grey clouds that hovered in the air giving the ground a hellish glow. The streets, although lit with streetlamps, were blanketed in darkness. It was inky and sticky. It looked as if I were to step outside it would suck me in and drown me. It was an open void that the devil’s face could have been seen in. A flash of yellow appeared in the sky. Someone had tried to blow it up again. They had been trying for the past few hours, but nothing had yielded anything positive results. One had dislodged a large chunk that took out a section of China. They weren’t happy about that. By that point, the human race had given up trying but a few determined thought they could still take it down.

The world was going out in a blaze of glory. It seemed. Better than the slow death of climate change that had been predicted.

“Painting with words?” she asked. I looked at her. How long had she been looking at me? I smiled and looked back at the scene.

“Always,” I said. She shuffled closer and looped an arm with me, resting her head against my shoulder. We were silent. Around us, we could hear screams and calls for help. Some hadn’t come to terms with their situation. On the ground, people were running around, hugging those they loved and hitting those they hated. Sirens echoed through streets and car tyres squealed in the distance. Why are the police still bothering? Where are they going to hold them?

“Tell me a story,” she said. I frowned and looked at her. Her smile was gone, replaced by a solemn straight face. A tear was running down her cheek.

“What kind?” I asked.

“Any.” She shuffled a little closer. “Just make it happy.” I leaned back and searched through my mind. I smile spread across my face as I recalled one.

“Ok then,” I said. I pulled her closer and rested my head atop hers. “Here we go. There was once a goat that lived in a field. The goat was old, much older than the other goats in the field. The others would mock him for his age. ‘Look at him,’ they jeered. ‘He can't walk right. Can't eat right. Can't do anything.’ So the old goat didn’t talk to the other goats. He walked away into the field and didn’t come back. But one young goat wasn’t like the rest, he didn’t take part in the others mocking. So when the old goat went away, the young goat followed.”

“Where’s this going?” she asked. I chuckled and shrugged.

“We’ll see,” I said slowly. “Anyway, the young goat followed. After a moment, the old goat stopped and shouted, ‘Why are you following me?’ The young goat stopped and simply said, ‘Because you are walking away.’ The old goat looked at the young goat and gave a nasty snarl. ‘You’re just like the rest of them. Go away.’ The young goat frowned at him, turning his head. ‘Like the others?’ he questioned. ‘What do you mean?’ The old goat growled at him, his snarl turning nastier. ‘You’re here to mock me,’ he said.”

“The young goat was confused. ‘Mock you?’ he said. ‘Why would I mock you?’ ‘Because I'm old,’ said the old goat, ‘and my legs aren’t as good as yours and my teeth don’t work as well as yours. Because I can't do anything like you can.’ The young goat shook his head at the old goat. ‘I don’t think any of that,’ he said. ‘I think that you're wise and clever.’ The old goat’s frown started to fade away as he listened to the words. ‘The others don’t understand that with your age, comes wisdom and kindness. You haven’t said a bad thing about them even though they have said a lot about you.’ The old goat nodded and smiled. ‘Thank you,’ the old goat said, his smile back on his face. ‘That is very kind of you.’”

“But behind the young goat, he could still see the others. They were still laughing. ‘They don’t think so, however.’ The young goat looked at the others. He glared at them. ’So what?’ the young goat said passionately. ‘Yeah you're different, but so is everyone. What’s wrong with different?’ The old goat’s face lifted as he laughed. He stepped towards the young goat. ‘You know, you're quite right,’ he said, chuckling still. From then on, the old goat didn’t listen to the others’ jeers or mocks. He just looked over at the young goat and smiled and the young goat smiled back, for out of this, a friendship was born.”

“A friendship was born?” she mocked me. I scoffed.

“Best I could think of,” I defended. “You didn’t give me much time.”

“You're a writer, gotta be better than ‘a friendship was born’.”

“Well, I was under pressure. Had to make it light-hearted.”

She laughed, leaning into me further. “Oh yeah. Forgot you wrote thrillers. Not like you mentioned it every third conversation.” I laughed with her.

As we spoke, we kept our eyes glued to the scene in front of us. Everything was still red and the black even blacker. The screams still echoed through the air and the rocks in the sky were now more visible. Behind them were streeks of purple and turquoise, stark against the black abyss of space. Strangely, no stars were visible. My smile faltered slightly and I felt her cuddle up to me a little more. She was also looking at it all.

“Do you think it will hurt?” she muttered. I was taken aback by the words.

“I…I…” I tried.

“Like, when it hits?”

I was still speechless. I looked down at her. Her eyes were still staring at the sky. Frowning I followed her gaze, back out into the world, until my eyes met what she was looking at. There was one headed straight for us. I sighed deeply and wrapped my arm around her tighter.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. It didn’t seem to calm her.

“So we’ll feel the shockwave. Be crushed by the building. Break bones. Bleed. Die. All in a matter of minutes.”

“So it’ll be quick.”

“Not quick enough.” We sat in silence for a moment. Forcibly, I tried to remember something. My eye lit up and nudged her. She seemed to begin to listen.

“Remember when your brother decided to go and explore that abandoned shopping centre a few years back?” She didn’t respond but I continued. “What was it he said he saw?” I waited a moment, hoping she would chime in. “Was it a bat-person? Or was it a rat the size of a dog?”

“It was a zombie cat,” she said. I could feel the smile tugging at her lips.

“That’s right, a zombie cat, but it was–

“Just a cat covered in slime from somewhere.” We laughed together. The ground began to tremble slightly. A few rocks were hitting the surface now. Wouldn’t be long now. Our laugh faded as the massive rock hurtled over our heads.

“I’ll miss him,” she muttered.

“I’ll miss all of them,” I muttered back. The rock was gone now, leaving its trail of purple and blue behind. The inky black now consumed everything, with even the streetlamps covered in a dark haze. Behind us, we felt the shockwave rock the ground. Our heads snapped to each other, our arms clutched tightly around one another. Eyes were wide, mouth glued shut. But, in that moment, as everything around us was starting to fall and crumble, I felt no fear. Looking into her eyes gave me a comfort only love could give. I rested a hand against her cheek and allowed a smile to spread over my face. A smile of her own started to spread.

“I love you,” I said softly. Her smile widened and she placed her own hand on my cheek, her fingers running over the stubble on my jaw.

“I love you too,” she said back. Then, we leaned towards each other and became locked in a kiss. As our lips locked, the building began to shake uncontrollably. We broke away, slightly breathless, and wrapped each other in our arms, holding one another tightly as the building fell and we slipped into the inky blackness.