Armageddon

A Story by Omily

I think I was a freshman in highschool when I wrote this.

            It was an old, rusted swing. It wasn’t the kind most people would like, but it was perfect for me. This was exactly how I had imagined it. Well, of course it was. There was no other way it would exist. Reality hadn’t been kind enough to give me this one last wish, so fantasy stepped in and awarded it to me.

            I guess you could say I’ve gone mad. But do you really have the right to say that when I have nothing left to be? I like to call it “being lost in the fabrications of my mind.” The phrasing sounds so much kinder. Does this all matter, though? At this moment- at the end- does anything matter? Armageddon is an odd concept. It goes beyond death. A dying human realizes that life will continue after they’ve passed on, yet an Apocalypse victim can look at everything they own and everyone they’ve loved, understanding that wherever they’re going, all of that will be coming with them. It’s a peaceful thought. At least, I choose it to be that way.

            My swing creaked as I lifted my legs to touch the sky. I liked this sound. It was comforting; a reminder that for this moment, I still had breath in my lungs. I still had a life to call my own. My white dress fluttered in the wind, causing ripples wherever it touched. I was a little girl again. I was young and carefree and I was happy. I had come here to see the fireworks. They were astounding and almost hypnotic to watch. Their loud explosions vibrated underneath the ground, moving my swing along in rhythm. These sensations were thrilling.

            I wanted it to snow.

            All around me, the world was a glass orb of white. My dress became almost indistinguishable against this mass of ethereal beauty. The only contrasts that dare differ from the white were my flowing dark hair and the symphony of fireworks. Oh… how I wished this would never end.

            Then, everything turned black.

            “Doctor, she’s awake. Her eyes are open.”
            “No, no. We can’t let that happen. Sedate her.”

            Thank you, forgiving white. My fantasy became my own anomalous form of reality once again. Gusts of wind carried my swing higher than even my imagination expected. Lights sang in chorus above my head, if only for my dissipation. I sang along with them. Life was beautiful. The end of life was beautiful.

            It was the grand finale. Destiny had been sealed. The fireworks exploded with more ferocity than before, causing a spectacle that easily took my breath away. Excitement and peace combined, merging into one incomprehensible joy. This was the only emotion left in this world and the greatest of any I had experienced. This was pure love. My world was ending, just as I had imagined it.

            My mind and soul came to agreement as the wind pushed my swing to touch the lights.