A Marvelous End

A Story by TiffanyCutrone

For anyone that has ever felt that the end might be something worth seeing.

All words and comforts seem so opaque now. The ravishings of the world that once filled her days are hollow, but nothing has truly changed. The world was set to end very soon now; the Dooms Day clock just minutes away from midnight, which is when all the magic of the world seems possible. The sky line glitters and dazzles like it had in nights before serving to strike awe in both the simple minded and sophisticated alike, only now it was coupled with a sky ablaze. No more lovers walking hand in hand. No more packs of girls bracing each other after a night of coke and vomit. No more dreamers on rooftops. No more holding your breath to the point of implosion when racing through underground tunnels filtered all orange and hazy. She envisions it; any evidence of any of this ever have existing disperses across the universe in a violent wave like when you get the wind knocked out of you when your grip is unfaithful, tumbling down from the twisted branches you had hoped to tame landing flat on your back. We will fight to catch our breath, but to no avail just as we had when we were too young to truly register our bodies limits looking up into a sky that was slowly spinning as we tried our best to suckle the air that resisted us.

The broadcast had been very vague as to the circumstances of how, but they had made it clear that we were alone on this one and sure to die. Soon after they delivered the news the screen went black for what felt like a long time before returning to our regular nightly showings, but chaos erupted in the world outside of television. She left it on so the hum of advertisements and formulated sitcoms would help fill the void while looking down from her little slice of heaven in the sky watching a world on fire. Looters salvage what they can despite these possessions serving no purpose to us for whatever it is that comes after life. These were the people in denile, the one's that couldn't accept this as their end, but it will be. She can hear families crying through her floorboards, bachelors wrecking havoc to their IKEA cultivated love pads above, lunatics raving to God, and final courtings being thrust out in the hallways and staircases. She took the news and scene in stride sipping on hard liquor and watching our last great performance from her perch above the city.

She can see that violence has taken hold of those once domesticated. Her ice chatters as she raises her glass for another hearty swig. Civility was a privilege, a conditioned response to a world that provided us the grand hoax that is the American Dream. Civility was just not in our nature. We crave a great purge here and there to keep us sane ,but we were about to witness the great purge. Society had been teetering over the edge of destruction for far too long now, so if it hadn't been this it would have been something else.

The liquor is fighting with her insides but, ignoring it's petition,welcomes the fire being brewed in her belly. She wonders who is to blaim for this end, but realize it doesn't matter. No use in fretting over frivolous things. The glass is empty and needs refilling. She adds more cubes to douse with the dizzying liquid. Another swig. Another wasted moment. What else is there to do when you want to spend the end of the world in solitude?

A tiny knock comes from behind. An unwelcomed guest. Like a cat she moves to the door without missing a beat. A fish eye view of the boy from 13E. He looks sweaty. Anxious.

-What is it?-

She calls through the door.

-I was hoping to spend the end of the world with you.-

Another swig. He had always been a nice boy, but she noticed how he looked at her in hallway passing's and pleasantly uncomfortable elevator rides. She had no time to indulge his desires.

-No. I'm sorry but I can't. I'm busy at the moment. Why don't you try back tomorrow.-

She chuckled to her glass. Even now she found ways to amuse herself. He was quiet for a long while. She put her eye back out into the hall. There he stood completely warped and broken by her lack of sympathy through the view of the peep hole. This made her feel wrong for only a moment. His demeanor snapped. In a manic flurry both palms met the door with anger that could only exist in a boy. The sound was frightening. His body shaking and face pulsing he slammed a second time. The door vibrating against her as she leaned in, unable to look away. He bellowed like a beast. Combinations of words unpure. He sneered with saliva jumping.

- I will kill you for being such a ____.-

He spun wildly, but returned back to her door with a heavy kick. The door shifted. He had transformed into a martial arts master right before her eyes. She knew the door was not going to hold. She eyes her apartment for some sort of a weapon, but instead decided to saunter over to the bottle she's been nursing for the night and welcome whatever hell came through the other side of that door.She could hear the cracking with a sound that reminded her of the horrors of having your teeth pulled out as a child;roots snapping and gums loosing their grip, fighting the good fight, after much resistance. Dropping a few more cubes in before shooting back the last of it in one long sip. Looking around the corner she saw his foot come through with the next kick. 'Heeere's Johnny' popped in her head and she had to reprimand herself for not taking her current situation seriously, but what could she do; she was drunk and the world was ending. Her final moments will be spent with a depraved teenage boy throwing a temper tantrum just to get his 1, 2, done in before he dies. She gets it but God-damn.The whole thing was one hell of a sadistic joke, she was just waiting for the punch line.

The door splinters apart and his hand reaches in for the knob, twisting clumsily as young boys do. Soon enough he is in and making his way towards her with tears, sweat, and mucous running together as he approaches.

-Oh Benjamine this is a bit much.-

Her remark to his entrance made her feel like a high class roller as she eyes him levelly. She notes how his chest pounds beneath his cotton shirt. He's looking her over as if unsure of how to go about his next move.

-You should've just let me in.-

He seemed calmer now that he was in her presence and no longer talking to an inanimate object. Reason was returning to him.

-You should go now. Let me die in peace.-

-But I don't want to die alone.-

-We all will.-

His head drops at this. She walks over to him and wraps her arms around him, he is just a boy. He sobs while she marvels at her ability to play along with false compassion even as the end is here. Loosening her grip she looks out the window. The words escape her with haste.

-It's a marvelous end.-