Memoria Finalem

The Wind

I passed away today.

My name was Bellona d'Atte. I was the daughter of two hard workers that loved me very much. I lived in a lower-class neighborhood during my childhood, but then my mother was given a rare opportunity to change everything. She took it.

Within a month, our whole lives transformed. We were able to move to a safe, beautiful middle-class home and I received proper education from the school nearby, where I was lucky to have the help of wonderful teachers and staff. I graduated high school in 2014 and began college at a small, close-knit private school.

Fast-forward to 2020. It was my last year before I would get my Master's degree. Some of the classes I wanted were backed up and I had financial issues here and there, but I pushed through. When the pandemic fear spread across the country, I ended up in my friend's apartment, taking online classes rather than in-person lessons. When protests and riots shook up the streets, I hung up large banners showing my support for those marching below me despite my health issues, trying to avoid the tear gas whirling in the air. When an extremely divided country watched eagerly as election votes were counted, I tried to stay calm but ended up almost falling apart as I waited. In the chaos of 2020, I tried to keep my spirits up by myself, but what truly kept me going was a YouTube channel.

A YouTube channel by the name of Unus Annus.

It was a fascinating concept. The channel proclaimed to delete itself in a year after 365 days of daily uploads. Decked out with a black and white theme, it was created by two YouTubers I had watched before - Ethan and Mark, or CrankGameplays and Markiplier. The two took on different personalities occasionally in a few videos with an infinitely turning spiral as Unus and Annus. The younger and unpredictable Ethan became the gentle, black-suited Unus, always standing to the left. His light eyes constantly seemed to be gleaming as if he had hope for something or someone, only dimming in the more serious videos. The older and assertive Mark shifted to the dominant, white-suited Annus who stood to the right. His eyes, in contrast to Unus's, were piercingly dark, and out emerged only void when you stared into them.

Except for those spiral videos and a few moments where the fun atmosphere would abruptly drop, the rest of the channel was light-hearted and entertaining, and Mark and Ethan would record whatever they wanted to do, with the exception of a urine-based video I won't name (although, I wouldn't be surprised if they kind of wanted to do that one). They would perform random feats such as lifting the other up in a tango class or make a whole video without editing it just because they could. Every day was a new adventure with them, and I looked forward to their videos every day, patiently waiting before the clock struck noon.

Days turned to weeks as weeks turned to months, and time flew by, pausing for no one, and the end of the channel loomed near. The fear among fans settled in as a video called "Accepting the Truth" was released and reminded everyone of the mortality of the account. I, myself, was one of those fans and I constantly debated with my conscience on whether or not I should save the videos or let them live out their lifespan as they were supposed to.

In the end, I didn't download any of them. I watched the final video, the livestream, and sat there alongside Mark and Ethan as they recalled their favorite parts of the channel and talked to the team about their contributions. During the final hour, the pair opened the coffin they had bought so long ago, and as their fake eulogies were spoken, I couldn't help but think about how this really was the final time I would see the gang like this. In shock, I merely sat there, watching as that damned timer in the back ticked. My eyes were glued to the screen as Ethan, Mark, and Amy, Mark's girlfriend, moved to place their hands on the laptop and they uttered out the final "Memento Mori" with the classic chant. The timer hit 000:00:00:00 and, immediately, a black screen filled the air with a deafening silence.