sonder

Week 9

  "...AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR"  

It's the last New Year's Eve ever. The world will probably end when the ball drops; there's a 75% chance that an asteroid will hit Earth when the clock strikes midnight. Write a story about one person's experience. 

"I made a resolution last year, and I intend to keep it while I still can."

Logan stares at me for a second. He ponders, and I can imagine that he's contemplating whether or not I'm worth what could be his last kiss.

"Alright, but here's the catch: I'm driving up to New York. Times Square, to be more precise. There's just no way I'm gonna live my last moments without having seen the ball drop. So, you've got a few choices: come with me to New York so I can kiss you at midnight. The world will either end or it won't, and if it doesn't, then you'll run away with me, like we planned to do when we were little."

The memory comes back to me; him and I, staring up at the stars, just two little 9-year-old dreamers. We made a pact. Who would've thought that a decade after, we'd either fulfil that pact or die trying?

"And what's the other option?" I ask, chewing on my bottom lip. He cocks his head to the side.

"You spend New Year's Eve with your family and friends. You die with them or you don't, and if you don't, then we agree to never see each other again," he says frankly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

A dilemma. Risk never seeing him again, or never seeing my family again.

"When do we leave?"

~~~

Times Square is packed; never before in the history of the ball being dropped have so many people attended.

Logan has a firm hold on my hand, weaving our way through the throngs of people. Singers and celebrities of all sorts have come here to celebrate what could be their last moments on this planet; it's a somber thought, but everybody is still pretty happy.

"You know, we're screwed if one of us has to pee," I say into his ear, hoping he can hear me over the crowd. A chuckle tells me he can.

"Yeah, I'd say we're screwed anyway," he responds, pulling me closer to him as we navigate around a particularly rowdy group of people.

It's 11:48; people are getting more excited as each minute passes. There's something thrilling about living on a 75 percent chance of dying. Will the asteroid hit us? Will it not? The question will be answered by midnight.

As we make our way as far to the front as we can, it comes to be 11:55. The air is frigid and reeks of things I'd rather not think about. Everywhere I look there's just people, as far as the eye can see. Noise surrounds me like a blanket. Yet, I still feel as if there's no place I'd rather be.

Logan.

I've known him since we were six. He was always a bit wild, a bit adventurous, but I was always drawn to that. Then we dated when we were 17, something that lasted until we realized that we couldn't keep it going when we were destined to attend colleges that were thousands of miles apart. We broke it off on the day of graduation, and I thought I'd never see him again. Not like this.

It was the New Year's after we'd broken up. I promised myself that I was going to kiss him on the next New Year's that came around. Unfortunately, of course, news struck that there was a high chance of the world ending at the exact moment a new year would arrive.

That was when I decided to hop on a plane and go visit him. I flew from California all the way across the country to South Carolina to go and see him and to tell him that I refused to leave this world without living up to that resolution.

Then, we hopped in his car and drove up the coast, stopping in on our hometown in Virginia along the way to say goodbye to our families.

11:58.

"Are you ready?" Logan asks, giving my hand a squeeze.

"Is anyone ever really ready?" I shoot back. He shrugs and smiles, wrapping an arm around me.

11:59.

The people start counting down. I can feel my heartbeat in my chest, and the warmth that radiates off of my first love. Maybe he's my last love.

"Ten!" everybody yells. I turn to Logan.

"Nine!" I smile and brush a stray hair from his eyes.

"Eight!" He reaches behind my neck.

"Seven!" The ball glimmers in the sky.

"Six!" A single stray tear escapes my eye.

"Five!" Breathe in.

"Four!" Breathe out.

"Three!" Will we die?

"Two!" Will we live?

"One!" Here we go.

"Happy New Year!" And so we kiss. Soft, gentle, everything. I've missed him so much.

There's a blinding bright light. I don't look up. It passes.

The cheers erupt from the crowd, and the ball drops.

Happy New Year indeed, I think as I hold onto him, smiling and kissing and so very happy.

~~

A/N

Not my favorite one, but I wrote it in, like, a half an hour. Cut me some slack bro.

In other news, here's to the end of 2016. I hated it and loved it all at once, but hey, at least we're still alive.

-Cara