The End

Don't Give Up

"Anyone can give up, it's the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone would inderstand if you feel apart, that's true strength."

Unknown

Josh

Just my luck isn't it. The one day this week I can actually bother to go to school the world ends. Brilliant. Of course I'm glad I'm not the only one left, if it was just me then this would be terrible and frankly boring. But Andy's alive to, or a least he was two minutes ago when he went to check the rest of the school for anymore survivors.

Andy is two school years younger than me but only a year in age, I'm young for my year you see. I know Andy because I used to go the primary school. I knew him when his dad died.

I wonder if he's found any other survivors, hopefully there's someone else Andy can be a bit quiet at times and very shy, me and him would probably get boring.

I tapped my fingers on the windowsill of the classroom I stood in, it was unused when everyone died so there are no bodies in it.

I wait a few minutes longer then Andy walks through the door followed by two year sevens I recognised from one of my days at school, though I could not name them.

Andy, however, helped me out in the name front. "This is Yves" he said pointing to the boy who had black hair and glasses "and this is Sophia" he pointed to the girl who's mousey hair was in plaits, "they're both eleven".

I sighed. Well this was going well, the only people on the planet left alive were me, the self proclaimed bad-boy, Andy, the slightly depressed kid and two little kids, who were, frankly, going to be no use whatsoever.

Then a thought came to me. "What about across the road, the posh kids, perhaps some of them are alive?"

Andy

Stunford Grange was the private school just across the road from our school: Stunford High. I didn't know anyone that went there and I don't think I wanted to. From what is heard they were all only children with rich parents who worked in banking.

But we were heading there to try and find some of them, Josh leading the way, Sophia and Yves, who seemed quite taken him, tagging along behind him and me on my own at the back.

At first look you wouldn't think anything wrong with our party, the three in front of me were not as dismal as they perhaps should have been though Sophia's eyes were still red from the loss of her brother. That is where I'd found them, in a maths classroom, a girl crying over a fallen boy of around fourteen and a kid with glasses stood of in the corner looking confused and anxious.

Josh seems to be keeping himself together, either that or he's to thick to realise that his ten year old brother is probably dead. Me, on the other hand, I have no one left to loose.

We're climbing up the private school's drive now, it's immaculate, almost as if nobody has ever driven up it, bit I know they have, I've seen them. At the top of the drive, in the school's equally immaculate car park stands a sight that is as welcome as it is unexpected, a crowd of four.

Henry

Four people walk up the drive towards us. We'd watched then come across the road from the high and we'd stared in shock. Well at least me and Ellen had stared. Layla was still crying for her sister and Nicholas was holding it in while trying to comfort Layla as best he could. He loved his siblings very much and I loved him for that.

Well back to the people walking up the drive, children I should say, not people. They were led by a tall guy with shaggy black hair who I'd seen around town from time to time. Behind him were two kids that couldn't have been older than twelve, a boy with brown hair and glasses and a mousey haired girl with plaits. Behind them was a miserable looking coloured guy with dark brown hair. They all looked miserable and upset but they seemed to be keeping it in.

Josh
The crowd is made up of two boys and two girls. The girl stood nearest us is short, about eight inches shorter than me. She has very straight ginger hair, I bet she's been teases about her looks before. A little behind her stand a boy and girl. The girl is crying into the boys chest her short blonde hair is wet with tears. The boy who is holding her looks about the same age and has brown hair. The other boy is standing a little back from them, his eyes flicker between us and the crying girl, or is it the boy holding her, I can't tell. This boy looks the popular type. He looks sporty and has that blonde hair that most boys would die for. I'm happy with my black hair, it makes me look bad.
We've reached them now. I'm sure what to say: Hi, sorry about everyone dying. But ,of course, that would be rude even for me so I turn to the ginger, who looks to be in charge and say:
'Hello, I'm Josh'. Ok, so the probably was something better I could have said.