When the World Ends

Shining Darkness

A memory of light and love.

   The boy with the gray eyes has gone off to scavenge for food. It is harder to come by now, especially for three people, but we manage.

   He has been with us for a month. She now has a spark of light in her; the hurt in her eyes doesn't lessen, but it doesn't worsen, either. She is fond of the boy with gray eyes.

   But her heart still belongs to the boy for whom she wrote the letter. I'm aware of that, and I only wish I could tell her how I feel.

   But today she asks me if we can do something fun. We're here for today, after all, right? she says. So couldn't we go explore somewhere?

   We're always exploring, I tell her, and it never turns out well. 

   But she insists, and I know that she's already scouted the place out before I woke. Obviously she had, or she wouldn't be so excited for a destination she was unaware of.

   She takes my arm and she pulls me behind her. I ask her where we're going. She tells me that I'll see soon.

   She gives a small cough, but I think nothing of it.

   Through the town we wander, until we arrive at an area of town that stands strong. Most of the places down south still stand, albeit most of them don't stand strongly. But they still stand, and this building stood strongly.

   She pulls me inside. This place is empty, because the roof had holes in it. It had been abandoned before the world ended; a laminated sign lies on the floor, explaining that this place was marked for destruction. It would've been rebuilt, if the world had not ended.

   Then, she run off. She returns with a bowling ball. I realize that this place must have once been a bowling alley.

   Come on, Keane, she begs, come pick one out, and help me set up the pins.

   Isn't this not fair to Jacob? I ask. 

   I told him about this, she explains, and he said he didn't like bowling.

  But I know that isn't it. Jake must have felt that I didn't like him being with us. I wanted it to just be her and me, as it had been for the year until we encountered him.

   So, I think, this must be his form of a peace offering.

   But I only tell her, Ah, how sad! I happen to love bowling, and I'm very good at it.

   She smiles. She's evidently happy that I've said that. So I go and I help her set up the pins, pulling up the bumpers so that we have something to walk on other than the slippery floors of the bowling lanes.

   She finds bowling shoes. They're too big for both of us, but we both put them on, more for sport than for their actual use. She uses the lightest weight bowling ball she can find; I use a bright blue one that I think looks nice.

   And we bowl. For hours, we run back and forth to set up the pins as the other jots down the score on a piece of paper. Then, we rotate. This continues until the sun is close to setting, and we decide that it's best to head back.

   I can't help but wonder why there are no people around here, though.

The memory of light and love turns dark. The people are not here, it turns out, for a reason.

   There are packs of wild dogs that come out at night. We hear them howling and barking, and we make sure we find an area in the school without windows. 

   Animals that have managed to survive killer rain are never good news, after all.

   That results in us all sleeping in a closet, with our gas masks on. The winds have picked up speed, and we realize another issue that must have caused the people to leave: here, the rain poisons not only animals, but plants as well. When winds pick up speed, the ash rises into the air, and it suffocates whatever living things may remain.

   We do not sleep well. We spend most of the night trying to close the gaps underneath the door of the closet, so that the ash cannot come in. The gas masks do not keep ash out; we wear them just as much for the chance of poisonous air as for the ash, which it barely filters out.

   When morning comes, the wind still does not let up. The boy with the gray eyes finally managed to close the gap under the doorway with duck-tape and one of our precious blankets. 

   We curl up together and try to sleep. Eventually, it comes for her, and then for the boy with gray eyes. But I only lie there on my back, watching as she sleeps. 

   As my eyes finally begin to drift shut, she murmurs something softly. I can't quite catch it, but she murmurs it again a few minutes later, as sleep begins to overtake my weary body.

   I think she said, I'm sorry.