WHEN THE WORLD ENDS

Vix is at the party of his life. The lights are epileptic, flashing back and forth so fast he can’t tell if he’s blinking. Retro sneakers slide across linoleum, while disco shines across the room.

Everything is color.

BLUE AND PINK AND PURPLE punches. Another fight starts on the couch opposite to him. Vix slides off his stained sofa throne and heads to the dance floor. Here, people bump and mash like dust particles. Drifting. He sways to the rhythm blaring from the speakers. It doesn’t matter who sees him, anymore. It doesn’t matter at all.

God, make me famous

If you can’t,

Just make it painless

Jessica from second grade slams into his side. Wow. How’d she get so tall? How’d she get so blonde? She turns to see who bumped her with an annoyed look and furrowed brow. But when she sees and recognizes him, a smile slides across her face.

“Vix!” She slurs, throwing her arms around his shoulders. “It’s been, what? Ten years?”

“Yeah, how have y-”

 Jessica lifts a thin finger to his mouth and whispers, “SHHHHHH.” Spit flies across the room, but Vix pretends he doesn’t see. She giggles, then yells over the music, “Here! Take this.”

Jessica holds a small, periwinkle pill in the palm of her hand. Vix backs up and shakes his head no, thank you. Jessica steps forward and shakes her head yes, just take it already.

Vix is not a bad guy. Really, he’s not. But for some reason, the end of the world tends to change your morals.

He finds himself alone in the upstairs bathroom, watching his reflection change. Vix had always hated mirrors. They made him feel trapped. Made him want to claw through himself. 

T-MINUS THIRTY MINUTES. I REPEAT, T-MINUS THIRTY MINUTES UNTIL THE END OF THE WORLD.

Downstairs, partygoers cheer. They drink. They celebrate. Go out with a bang. Muted music pours through the doors, through the walls. 

Assisted suicide,

She dreams about dying all the time

Vix stares in the mirror until his skin is pale and spotty and melting off his body. Then, he lies in the bathtub to think about all the people he’s loved. All the ones who never loved him. He hopes that she’s happy. He hopes that she gets the end of the world she always wanted.

The ceiling popcorn turns to candles which turn to smoke alarms which turn to birds which fly away. Everything is tilting, everything is black and white, color is eating him alive. 

She told me she came so close 

Filled up the bathtub, and put on our first record 

It’s okay, Vix reminds himself. Everything will be okay. 

T-MINUS TWENTY FIVE MINUTES.

Vix closes his eyes until all he can hear is bass pounding in his chest. Counting down. 

He wishes it was already over.

WHEN THE WORLD ENDS

Serenity is running down the middle of the highway. Barefoot. Panting. Her feet take on a familiar rhythm, smacking cement several times per breath.

SLAP

SLAP

SLAP.

Music travels through her headphones into her body, rumbling \ into the unsuspecting pavement. 

Some girls hate themselves,

Hide under the covers with sleeping pills

It takes two thousand seventy-six steps to reach the skatepark.

Beyond the gate, her old board rests on the picnic table untouched. Unaware. Serenity picks it up quickly, and the cool-cut colors melt under the moonlight. 

On and on, I don’t know what I want

He’s not here. Not anymore.

On and on, I don’t know if I want it

But that’s okay. The bass drum rattles in her ears so loud that she can feel it worm into her ribs. It reminds her to breathe.

INHALE, EXHALE. INHALE, EXHALE

He had asked her, once. They were sitting in The Bowl, a cement half-pipe carved into the ground like a crater. He wore a neon button-up, splashed in oranges and purples and pinks. 

“You find out the world is ending,” He proposed. “What do you do?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t like to think about things like that.”

“Well, you have to,” He told her. “Otherwise you’ll never know what you want.”

“I don’t need to have the world end to know what I want.”

He stared at her. Then, he brushed back his hair and stood up.

“I’d say my goodbyes. I’d say the things I left unsaid. Usual end of the world stuff. After that, I don’t know. I’d go and ruin my life, probably.”

Serenity smiled. “You can do that now, too, you know.”

He picked up his board, and then stopped. Reached for her hand.

“I know. Trust me. I do.”

Creature comfort makes it painless

Bury me penniless and nameless

The Bowl is a lot colder, now. Serenity clamors down the side backwards, scraping her knees on the way down and painting them painful. The concrete is a pillow beneath her. She lies on it, stretching her body out as far as it can go. 

Somewhere else, she hears car sirens and screams. Broken glass. She sighs. 

Serenity is calm. She stares into the sky, watching every star and pretending that they’re hers. Pretending that she could gather them all up in her hand and wring out every moment she had lost. 

She closes her eyes, then opens them. The stars are exactly where she left them.

In the distance:

T- MINUS FIFTEEN MINUTES. I REPEAT, T-MINUS…

Serenity smiles. She laughs. Didn’t they know?

 The world is already over.

WHEN THE WORLD ENDS

Harley is lumbering through the bones of the city. He walks past towering apartment complexes, parking garages. Sleek silver corporations. The streets are barren.   

How strange, he thinks, to see a city die. It had always been packed with cars and people, pushing their way through the crowd. It had always been honking cars and far-off singing. For a moment, Harley is overcome with a general feeling of wrong.

Then, he remembers what he is here to do. 

Some boys hate themselves, 

Spend their lives resenting their fathers

From within his backpack, he pulls out a bright red jerry can of gasoline. Harley pulls off the cap with a crisp, hollow

POP!

The smell fills the space around him, overpowering and intoxicating. He plugs his nose, and makes his way over to a flower shop display. Carefully, he pours petrol onto the floor and wooden walls. 

GLUG

GLUG
GLUG

Next, he splashes it onto the base of a skyscraper. 

Drenches the open windows of a food stand,

And throws the rest onto that

old coffee shop he used to go to. 

Harley paints the world in gasoline. 

Then, he smears his oily palms onto the thick denim of his jeans. The world is still just as quiet. For some reason, this makes him angry. Harley screams and screams with the power of a voice unheard.

Some boys get too much

When he gets bored, he drops the jerry can and lets it bounce against the cement. He look at his work and smiles.

Too much love

Harley reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a flattened box of matches. He pushes it back into shape, and picks his poison. 

Too much touch

The city catches fire quicker than expected.

Flames rise from the bare-boned buildings, spreading themselves as far as they can. Everything is AUTUMN GOLDEN ORANGE SCARLET HOT burning the world down.

T-MINUS TEN

T-MINUS NINE

T-MINUS

The boy feels small, now. Fire licks at his hair, presses his jeans into his legs until he can feel their warmth. Harley watches it grow in awe. He’s never seen anything so free.

God, make me famous

If you can’t 

The city is falling apart, now. Beams tumble down, red hot and smoking. The world is ending. This time, he can feel it.

If you can’t 

And it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.