I remember the end. The pain of it. The weightlessness of falling. I remember being relieved that I would no longer have to hide the pain because I would feel it no more. I remember the end. But it wasn't. It was only the beginning. The beginning of my true pain. It was the end of the world and the beginning of mine. How am I meant to survive this new hell? Why, at the end of the world, have all humans stayed the same?