The Last

Although each mouthful of air is filled with columns of smoke, I savour it. This is the first time I have left the house without a gas mask. Now, there is no point of preventing the toxic particles that puncture the air to enter my lungs.

As we gradually get closer to the cave, the world appears differently. For the first time, I see with my true eyes. There is a glisten to things that I once found dull. Trees conspire against us; their murmuring passing through the air like blood through water. I notice things that I never usually think about like the way my own feet sound or the lapping of the ocean waves.

I no longer stare at my sister, Gillian, or my brother, Blaise, in a futile attempt to memorise their faces. All the plastic surgeries Mother had forced us to endure so we could be like the rest of society makes me realise the longer I stare at their vacant faces: the dull shine on their noses are actually light reflecting against porcelain, the contours of their cheeks are painted and their eyes are horrid clicking balls. When I received my first nose job at the age of eleven, I swore I would never put my children through the same ordeal. When I was told about the cave when I was thirteen, I swore I would never have children.

My great grandmother predicted that the end of the world would be needed before the end of the world arrived. Rightly so, in a world without a future, each passing moment is the end of the world. Somehow, she managed to create a fail safe device. It is a nuclear that is hidden in a cave which can wipe out the entire human race. She died over a hundred years ago so the potential task was passed down to each generation. When we received the message, it was puddle thin but created a heavy burden which I never wanted to carry.

Currently, it is noon on the 23rd of August 2316. Today is the end of the world. Only we know it, but there is a sense of finality in the air.

Families are like trees. The branches grow in different but their roots remain the same. Sometimes when the rain slashes too hard, some of the branches fall. If I can describe my family in any way, I would say we are a stump in a confined place. From the beginning, if a shadow of a branch begins to grow, they are hacked off. This is to ensure our family can carry the weight of eight and a half billion deaths.

Swallowing hard, I look back at my siblings. Since our births, we were raised for this mission like it was our only purpose. If only I had glimpsed behind the big, thick red curtains that hid the truth. Blaise is a doctor and Gillian is an engineer. She has taken enough courses in speleology to know how to find the explosive if it is hidden. As for me, I appear useless to the audience, but I am the glue that holds us together. Without me, this mission would have failed.

Sad.

Sad sounds so childish and flimsy like it is something that can be cast away with smoke. My dry face is an insult to humanity, but I cannot help it. I feel fine.

All I have to do is shut my eyes and remind myself of the current stare of Earth. To decrease population, every child of thirteen years old must fight to the death against other children. There's no humanity left in anybody. Everyone has to wear gas masks just to leave their homes- if they are lucky enough to have one. Most animals are extinct. Every crime is punishable by death, with no age limit. The first time I saw someone get killed was when a boy, no older than twelve, stole a lollipop. As soon as he left the store, a bullet went through his skull. The next time I saw someone killed, I was the killer.

I can't believe history thought we would have flying cars and have at least travelled to Jupiter by now. It feels like we are going back in time and retracing history's mistakes.

"Well this is it," says Gillian. There is an abrupt snuffle like someone resolutely sniffing back a sob. "We...should do it now."

After twenty-seven days, we arrive. We stand in front of the entrance of a cave. Walls of craggy rock surround the ridges of the entrance that curls to the moss ridden ground. Sunlight sends shimmering rays over the ocean that encases us, bestowing a golden path from the horizon to the shore

"Well, it's nice knowing you guys," says Blaise, wavering. "Gillian knows more about speleology than you, Tori. She pulls the trigger with us."

As I eye the chilling blackness of the cave's innards, it feels like a bad time to mention my claustrophobia. Something glints and catches my eyes. Immediately, I head for it.

"Where are you going, Tori?"

Something in my brain drowns them out. As I step into the cave, icy fibres cling to me. They follow.

"I found it," I say, gesturing towards a silhouette of a raised platform and a red button that catches gold streaming through a skylight.

"There's no other option."

"It's always a red button," says Gillian, giving a short laugh. "Piece of cake."

Splinters of indecision swim in her eyes for a moment. Freezing like a winter puddle, they turn pale blue. Mother told us that pale blue was the colour of a werewolf's eye when it killed an innocent.

Catching their eyes one last time, I turn away. The wind stills, as does the world as takes its final breath. I mimic it. There is no time to think; I collapse into darkness.

There is no more. But even the end of the world is not permanent.