Lauren: Last Moments

[World's End: 00:00:04:21]

No matter how long I stare at my phone, the countdown never slows. Inexorably, digit by digit, we grow closer to countdown.

"Shut that off," Marissa hisses from behind me. "I can't sleep."

As if any of us are sleeping. We're just pretending.

But I turn off the display and roll onto my back, staring up in the darkness.

A single candle burns. Out of paranoia, Dad used one of Marian's tall scented candles in a glass jar. Then, he put the candle in a roasting pan filled with water.

"We don't need to catch the house on fire," he'd muttered, but none of us wanted to sleep without light.

Facing the end of the world in complete darkness is too much for any of us.

I wonder how many people in this world are like us, awake too long and pretending to sleep.

How many more are sleeping in peace, preferring for the chaos to happen when they aren't conscious for it?

There must be families holding onto each other and praying for salvation in these last moments. Lovers attached at the hip. Parents holding their children.

What about Brian? Is he alone, or is he surrounded by friends?

Questions run in circles through my mind, knowing I'll never have the answers. Then, more practical ones.

What does it mean when the world ends? Do we all die together in a flash, or is there an inexorable descent into chaos and mayhem? Are those mysterious tears in the sky a sign that the world will split apart? Or maybe there's a meteor NASA doesn't know about that's going to crash into the world and cause our extinction, like the dinosaurs.

If we're all meant to die, I hope it's an immediate death. I don't want to suffer for long.

Too bad the electricity's out. The news would at least be something to focus on, instead of these random thoughts in my head. Somehow, watching other people go through what we're experiencing makes it all a little less terrifying. Like we aren't alone.

Across the world, we're suffering together.

What about people who don't have cell phones? Do they know of the fate that's about to befall us all?

I guess the rifts are a universal warning, even without a cell phone. Though, why our cell phones would warn us about it is another question I have no answers for. So strange, an apocalypse that texts its arrival.

Unable to stop myself, my pinky touches the power button on my phone, lighting up the display once again.

[World's End: 00:00:02:17]

Two more minutes.

I roll onto my side, angling the phone's display away from Marissa so she doesn't complain again.

The silence is deafening. A phrase I've read countless times in books, but now understand to the very depths of my soul.

Every heartbeat.

Every breath.

Every whisper of movement.

It all echoes in my ears, its volume overexaggerated in the lack of noise around me.

A tentative touch on my waist startles me. Marissa's fingers creep over my side, hesitant yet desperate. Without thinking, I grasp her hand, feeling the slight tremor in her fingers. She inches closer, her breath warm on the back of my neck.

"Lauren?" Her whisper breaks the silence, fragile and uncertain.

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared."

The admission hangs between us. For some reason, she's decided to confide in me, instead of her mother. Or Randall. Or my father. Maybe it's because I'm the one beside her. Or maybe she doesn't hate me as much as I thought she did.

Either way, I squeeze her hand, surprised by the comfort I find in this small connection. "Me too."

Marissa presses closer, her forehead resting against my shoulder blade. The animosity that's defined our relationship for years seems to evaporate in the face of our shared terror. I feel her silent tears dampen my shirt.

"What do you think will happen?" she asks, her voice muffled.

I swallow hard, staring at the countdown on my phone. "I don't know."

The silence stretches, broken only by the soft crackle of the candle and Randall's occasional snores. Dad and Marian are quiet, but I doubt they're asleep.

"I'm sorry," Marissa whispers suddenly. "For everything."

The words catch me off guard. I turn slightly, trying to see her face in the dim light. "What?"

She sniffles, her grip on my hand tightening. "I've been awful to you. All these years. I just... I was jealous. And now it all seems so stupid."

A lump forms in my throat. Years of hurt and resentment war with the unexpected vulnerability of this moment. "Marissa, I—"

"No, let me finish," she interrupts. "I've been terrible. To you, to everyone. And now we might die, and I can't take any of it back."

"It doesn't matter now," I say, not sure how else to respond. "Just try to get some sleep."

I glance at my phone again, the numbers ticking down relentlessly.

[World's End: 00:00:01:03]

One minute. Only sixty seconds left, until… whatever.

"Lauren?" Marissa's voice quivers. "Will you hold me? Just... just until it's over?"

Rolling over, I wrap my arms around her, feeling her body shake with silent sobs. The scent of Marian's vanilla candle mingles with our sweat and fear.

"How much longer?" she whispers between choked sobs.

I glance at the display.

"Ten seconds."

There's some rustling, and the distinct smell of Marian's perfume. Then Dad's hand on my shoulder as he sits beside me.

Randall continues to snore, oblivious to the time. The only peaceful one among us.

Marissa pulls away from me to cling to her mother. Marian grabs Dad's hand from over my lap, and I hold my phone in silence.

All of our eyes are glued to the numbers flashing down.

Five seconds.

Dad's entire arm wraps around my shoulder, squeezing hard.

Four.

"I love you, Mom," Marissa whispers.

Three.

"I love you too, sweetie."

Two.

Randall coughs in his sleep and rolls over.

One.