of Beginnings and Ends

I lay in bed, staring at the white ceiling. I could see smoke billowing outside my window from my periphery. I sigh and closed my eyes. A single dog barking cut through the silence. I opened my eyes and stared again at the ceiling in frustration.

Deep breaths. One. Two…One. Two.

I sighed and closed my eyes again. A loud whistle, something big falling disturbed me again before the deafening crash near enough to make my eyes ring and the room shake. Smoke began to envelope my window. I couldn’t fight my heart pounding anymore. Against my better judgment I rose from my bed and sat staring at the blackened window. Slowly the smoke began to clear, revealing a crashed biplane a hundred yards or so away. Bricks crumbled to the ground from the house it had crashed into. My heart quickened and I looked away before wiling myself to lie back down

Fuck.

I counted seconds. Four. Thirty-six. Sixty. Ninety. Three hundred. My thoughts were beginning to get wavy, more dream-like and unrealistic- the indicator of approaching sleep. My eyes shot open, heart pounding.

Dammit, just go to sleep.

But my heart had decided it wasn’t ready to rest. A stupid evolutionary feature gone haywire, deciding without me to keep me alive. I sighed and sat up in my bed, staring at the window again. A small fire breathed out dark smoke from the plane crash. The image was almost soothing. Not soothing enough to sleep. I stood and went into the living room where I’d left the television on children’s programming.

The program that should have been playing was of course no longer showing. The regular scheduling had been interrupted by the newscast. I stared blankly as the man frantically re-iterated our fate, wondering why he hadn’t gone home yet. Maybe he had no family. Maybe he was way too passionate about his job. Maybe they forced him to stay, just in case somehow, someone, somewhere made it through. I chuckled to myself dryly.

Won’t be me.

I slumped onto the couch and continued to watch. I thought maybe I could fall asleep to the television, as I had so often done before. Never to the news but every station was either completely off the airwaves or being interrupted by news reports. A part of me felt impressed by the dedication these news agencies were showing even in the face of their own demise. Surely they knew there soon wouldn’t be any more profits to be had. There wouldn’t be any more ratings. There wouldn’t be any more airwaves, no more viewers. For whatever reason there they were, reporting what we all knew.

I looked over at the clock on the wall. 4:15 PM. The lights flickered as another rumble passed through my floor, shaking the walls. The television and lights went out. The clock stopped. I got up and went to the fridge, taking survey. Cheesecake from a couple days ago. Pad Thai. Flavored Vodka, diet coke, and left over baked chicken. I pulled out the vodka, pad Thai, and cheesecake and returned to my seat in the living room. From my seat I could see the scale in the bathroom.

Won’t need that anymore.

I drank the vodka from the bottle. Sweet and vanilla flavored. I forked a bundle of cold pad Thai and closed my eyes to enjoy the taste. Hopefully the carbs and sugar would put me into a food coma for just long enough to not have to watch the end. A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. My heart raced but I sat still. Looters weren’t the way I wanted to go. I sat silently, staring at the door. Another knock sounded and my heart was in my throat.

“Hello,” a little voice called from beyond the door. I instantly felt silly. The knock wasn’t hard enough to belong to anyone large. I just hadn’t expected anyone at all. I stood and, still with caution, approached the peephole to peer through. My neighbor’s daughter stood on the doorstep, dirtied and terrified. She looked around behind her before I opened the door. She didn’t wait for me to greet her before running inside and ducking behind the couch. I sighed and locked the door before following her.

“Hey,” I called. “Lilly!”

She stayed tucked behind the couch but I could hear her sniffling. I crouched down to her level, my hands on my knees and gave her a look. Both questioning and knowing, but then neither all at once. She looked up at me with big wet eyes.

“I can’t find my mom,” she wailed and then tucked her face into her arms. I sat next to her and wrapped my arm around her small shoulders. She was wearing a soot-covered pink jacket with some cartoon on it. Her shoes were still blinking. The juxtaposition of tragedy with children’s clothing provokes a strange feeling of guilt, anguish, and apathy all at once. Lilly had spent nine pleasant years on this planet. Somehow today was going to both ruin any chance of a future for her and also save her from the world she’d eventually have had to face. In a way I was almost jealous of her lack of exposure. She didn’t know what she was missing. She didn’t realize that soon her childhood would be a distant, blurry collection of photo clippings and weird repressed feelings. I had no way to explain any of this to a child. I sat silently and held her, waiting for her to finish crying.

When she started to wipe her nose on her sleeve I stood and took her hand. We walked around to the front of the couch and I offered her a seat and my cheesecake. I sat next to her with my noodles and gave her a look as I continued to eat.

“Are you scared?” A mousy question between mouthfuls of cheesecake.

I shrugged but said, “No.”

“Why,” she asked.

I stared at my noodles for a moment. At this point there was no such thing as scarring a child right?

“My world kind of ended a long time ago. Honestly I was going to-“ I looked at her big eyes and couldn’t risk playing a role in the loss of a child’s innocence, regardless of the current situation. I sighed deeply.

“-I was…probably not going to be here for much longer,” I concluded, stuffing another bite of noodles into my mouth.

“Are you sick,” she asked. I looked up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” I said, “something like that.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. I stopped eating and looked down at her. This little girl was apologizing to me for a fate we shared. I shrugged again.

“Don’t be sorry. I accepted it. When…all this started happening, I just…. decided it was for the best.”

I could see her staring at her cheesecake from my periphery. Presumably deep in nine-year-old thought. She reminded me of myself as a child. Quiet, thoughtful, offering apologies for things I wasn’t responsible for. Thinking I had been born to carry the world on my shoulders. As we sat in silence I wondered how many years she had before she’d be worn down by the weight she tried so valiantly to carry. Maybe she’d have hit that mark on independence and self-awareness just right before insecurity became her fallback. Maybe she’d be strengthened by her weight and not weakened. Some people are like that I guess.

I took a swig from my bottle. Lilly was eyeing it as I drank. I wiped my mouth and shook my head.

“You can’t have any of this. It’s not for kids,” I said.

She pursed her lips and looked around, trying to mask her disappointment.

“Do you think I’ll find my mom,” she asked.

I was silent for a moment, staring at the floor in front of me. I decided on serenity rather than honesty, giving her an earnest nod.

“She’s probably looking for you. She’ll know to come here. She knows you like my house.”

Lilly nodded and looked down at her feet, wiping away fresh tears. She clasped her hands and knelt at the coffee table with her eyes shut. She began to pray in a whisper. The most earnest and faithful prayer I’d ever seen. I looked on, knowingly. I remembered that faith. Refreshing and strengthening. The kind of faith that would make you rebuke bullies on the playground to their faces. Lilly looked back at me with raised eyebrows. I sighed and knelt next to her at the table, hands clasped.

“My mom told me you have to pray with another person because when two people pray God listens,” she asserted and closed her eyes again, burying her nose in her clasped hands.

“Okay,” I said, “you lead the way.”

She nodded dutifully and began to whisper prayers again. Every once in a while she would speak a louder “Amen” and wait for me to say “Amen” in agreement. When she was done she sat back on her knees.

“God told me he’s going to send my mom here,” she said finally after a thoughtful pause.

“Good,” I said.

Another rumble shook the house. Lilly screamed and threw her hands over her head. Even I flinched but regained my calm as the rumbling subsided.

“It’s okay,” I said. We sat on the floor for a while, listening to the Earth roar, dogs bark, and car alarms wail. I heard pipes burst outside, concrete churn, and metal signs clang to the ground. We sat still, listening for any sign of peace. But the only peace was within my house.

Finally I started to stand. “I think we should take a nap,” I said. Lilly gave me a strange look.

“What if something happens,” she asked.

“Nothing will happen,” I said.

“God is sending my mom, so I have to wait for her,” Lilly said.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m going to take a nap, okay? Because I’m very tired,” I said and walked to my bedroom. I lay in my bed and closed my eyes.

“What’s happening,” Lilly asked, standing in my doorway.

I opened my eyes and looked over at her.

“What’s really happening,” she asked, “because my mom said that…it was just like a fire drill at my school but for adults. But she left hours ago and she didn’t come back.”

I sat up in my bed and sighed. “Honestly I don’t know,” I said.

“Is the world… ending?” Lilly stared at me with giant eyes.

“It might be,” I said, “A lot of people think it is. But they don’t know why.”

Lilly started to cry again. “Is God punishing us?”

“No,” I said too quickly.

“How do you know,” she asked fighting back her tears.

I had to really think now. “Because... because God doesn’t punish children.”

“Is He going to punish all the adults?”

“Probably,” I shrugged, and then remembered my audience, “but it doesn’t mean He is right now. It’s probably just a storm or something. It’s a test. Remember tests in the bible?”

She wiped her nose on the back of her hand and sniffled, nodding hesitantly. I sighed and drew my gaze away. I couldn’t decide which was the worst evil. Lying to this child about her inevitable fate or telling her the truth and sending her to her death without any sense of comfort.

I chose the lie.

“If it’s just a test then my mom should come back soon,” Lilly asserted. I nodded towards her

“Yeah. She’ll be back soon. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Lilly was nodding to herself but jumped when the entire house shook, sending my light fixture plummeting to the floor. We both stared at the glass shattered on the floor, me from my bed, Lilly from across the room, glued to the wall. She gathered herself before I did and walked around slowly to sit next to me.

“It’s just a test,” she whispered to herself, then looked at me for reassurance. I nodded in agreement. I stared again at the glass splintered all across the floor. I was fixated for a while, silent. The earth rumbled around us. Car alarms sounded. An alarm I couldn’t identify blared in the distance. I heard one scream from someone outside that came to an abrupt end as an explosion erupted a little too close for comfort. The room shook again and thicker smoke billowed outside my window. I stood and took Lilly’s hand.

“Let’s go back into the living room, come on.”

I took gulps of the vodka I’d left on the table.

“Why can’t I have any,” Lilly asked.

I glared at her from my periphery as I drank.

“It’s alcohol. I think it’ll kill you,” I stated flatly.

“Then why are you drinking it?”

“Because I am an adult.”

“It doesn’t kill adults?”

I paused and thought. “It…does,” I started, “but it takes a lot.”

“You’re drinking a lot,” she responded and pointed a smart-ass finger at my bottle.

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and put the bottle in my lap.

“It takes more than that, Lilly.” Now she was silent. Considering the information I’d given her.

“How much,” she asked. I gave her a look

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged and sat back against the couch. “Why are you drinking so much of it,” she asked after a moment. I looked at the bottle in my lap for a moment.

“To make this all a little easier,” I said finally.

“But…it’s just a test.”

“Well I’m not good at tests,” I spat.

“If you drink that it makes the test easier…so why can’t I have any?” She was started to irritate me. Hell was opening its doors outside my house and this little girl was questioning my drinking as if we were at a family dinner.

“The test has to be hard for you, sorry. Alcohol will kill you,” I said before taking another swig.

“Then we really aren’t going to die,” she said. I looked at her and was silent. Her voice sounded optimistic but her expression looked like she was calling BS on everything I’d told her up to that point

“I don’t know,” I said. “Well…you’ll be okay. I don’t know what will happen to me…but…I’m going to keep drinking this, because it will help me go to sleep and I really want to take a nap. Maybe you should take a nap too.” She shook her head vehemently.

“If I go to sleep I might not hear my mom come back.”

“Okay,” I told her. I took two more swigs, begging my own brain to feel the alcohol more quickly. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, waiting to feel sleepy when there was a frantic knock at the door. I jumped in my seat and stared at the door, my heartbeat roaring in my ears. Lilly stared at me, equally frightful. The knocking continued desperately.

“Hello, is anyone there,” a female voice called from outside.

Lilly gasped. “Mommy!” She jumped off the couch and ran to the door. I followed behind her grabbing her hand before she could open it and stepping in front of her. She began to protest but I held a finger to my mouth and shushed her. I looked through the peephole to see she was right. Her mother was bloody and dirtied at my door step, knocking even more desperately until I opened the door and she just about fell into my house.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, seeing Lilly standing behind me. They rushed to each other to hug and Lilly’s mom held her tight as they moved back into the living room. I wanted to slam the door and lock it before looking out. I tried to keep my gaze down but I caught sight of what used to be my neighborhood. I saw bodies. Blood. Smoke. Fire, rubble, and dirty water mixed where there had once been greenery and homes. Some houses still stood like mine. Some were partially crumbled. I heard screams and wailing. Then I saw it.

Indescribable. A billowing, powerful entity, sweeping down the side street. I backed into my house but my eyes were glued on the presence I couldn’t understand. It didn’t pay me any attention. They. They didn’t pay me any attention. Because as I thought I was watching a singular presence I realized it was a group. Seeping through the neighborhood. They shined like gold but cast shadows darker than the deepest shade of black I could imagine. I saw faces in them but not where faces belong. A low hum followed them. Or perhaps it was underneath them. It didn’t seem to escape from any mouth but they were certainly the source. A low hum that when I listened intently I could hear howling, singing, and shrieking all within the same grumbling hum. They moved like old men in a cult, slowly and staggering, but I could not distinguish feet or even limbs. There was heat emanating in a way I could see off of them. Like a white, wet smoke. Whatever they were, they billowed down the side street towards the community center and I heard screams I could only presume were greeting these beings. I shut the door and locked it.

I stood with my back to the door with heavy breaths and felt cold sweat bead on my forehead. Not even sure what I saw I tried to shake the feeling of dread I had gathered. It could have been anything. Could have been the force that saved us all. Could have been my own imagination, hallucinations brought on by chemicals released into the air in the wake of the destruction. I tried to comfort myself with every thought of how my own eyes and ears had failed me. My own mind was not to be trusted. I reassured myself with all the times I’d been told my own mind was not to be trusted. My own memory was subjective. I did not truly experience the things that I thought I did. I shut my eyes and thought of how many times I thought I remembered an experience and had been told “No. You’ve forgotten what really happened.”

I started to find comfort in the unreliability of my own mind until I remembered. I remembered. The one time I was told I’d forgotten. I’d forgotten how the story went. I’d fought and maintained that I had not forgotten, that I knew exactly what I was talking about until I was made to believe my memory could not be trusted and I conceded, feeling betrayed by my own mind. Until I found the very story, written in a journal by an eleven year old me, from the day I had recalled. My memory had been correct. It had been true. The true betrayal of myself was allowing another mind to persuade me that I fabricated my memories. That was the day I started trusting my own memory.

Now, what I once considered a blessing of self-discovery and strength came back to bite me as I was thrust into the reality that what I had seen outside was real. I had seen it. It was already burning itself into my memory. And for what? I hated my mind for creating new memories that it was too stupid to realize I would never even be able to recall in what I estimated to be a few more hours. Maybe days. I doubted it. They passed my door this time. How long until they came for me too, whatever they were. Then I remembered Lilly. She and her mother were sitting on my couch leaning against each other, talking quietly. I refocused on the people in my house and tried to rationally handle the new information I’d been given. There was something outside. Something I didn’t understand. It was an evolutionary response for me to respond in fear. For anyone to respond in fear. Everything fears what it doesn’t understand, that’s just nature. And whatever I’d seen I did not consider to be of nature, but I reminded myself that I didn’t know everything. Perhaps it was a species that had been overlooked. Perhaps it was a benevolent force and not something to be feared. So I took a deep breath and approached Lilly and her mother in the living room, deciding not to discuss what I’d seen.

Lilly’s mother was speaking softly to her.

“…and you’re going to join Mommy, okay,” she asked. Lilly nodded and was wiping away new sniffles. “We’re going to go now, okay,” Lilly’s mother stroked a comforting hand over her daughter’s hair as she spoke and Lilly nodded again, taking a deep breath.

“Where are you going to go,” I asked as I approached. Lilly’s mother turned abruptly to look at me. She gasped, seemingly haven forgotten about me even though she was sitting in my home. She stuck out an open hand, reaching for mine.

“I want to pray,” she said. I stopped short of reaching my own hand out and looked at her in a way that I didn’t mean to convey distrust but I know it did.

“Okay,” I said finally, not wanting to appear rude or suspicious. I hesitantly took her hand. She squeezed mine a little too tight and pulled me into her and Lilly’s circle. Lilly took my other hand and squeezed as tight as she could Her other hand grasped her mother’s. They bowed their heads and shut their eyes dutifully. I looked at both of them and closed my eyes for a second but couldn’t seem to keep them closed. They didn’t notice. Lilly’s mother began to pray in a whisper. I couldn’t make out most of her words. She spoke quietly and quickly, rocking a little as she prayed. Lilly shut her eyes and grasped my hand even tighter.

“…And forgive us, Dear Lord…please greet us with understanding…the intentions of my heart…judge my spirit as generous and not selfish…please forgive what I will…please forgive…please forgive…please forgive…”

The words I could make out made me anxious. I raised my head a little and watched Lilly’s mother pray passionately. Lilly dutifully nodded along and held our hands securely.

“…Only you know,” her mother continued, “…please understand…no other choice…I feel I’m following your guidance…will follow your instructions…I trust…wouldn’t lead us astray…please forgive...please forgive…please understand…please greet us with grace and mercy as we…”

I started to rise in my posture and now worriedly stared at Lilly and her mother as the earth continued to rumble around us. More screams were heard outside, another explosion. I could smell smoke. I heard something large and mechanical crash into the earth somewhere outside. The house shook and Lilly tucker her chin into her chest, trying her hardest to stay focused in prayer. Her mother had not paused or even taken a breath in her onslaught of quiet, passionate prayer

“…Please forgive…please forgive...Amen.”

Finally when she was finished she released my hand, took a deep breath and raised her head, opening her eyes. She looked at Lilly and nodded. Lilly nodded and they embraced for a long moment before Lilly’s mother opened her hand to reveal a capsule. I flinched, shocked and confused. Lilly opened her hand to reveal an identical capsule. Before I could protest or even take it from their hands, Lilly and her mother swallowed their capsules.

“No!” I jumped up and grabbed Lilly first. I tried to reach down her throat but she had already swallowed it. She locked eyes with me in shock and looked to her mother, who was already reaching to pull me away from her child. I pushed her away.

“What was that?” I demanded of her mother. Lilly’s mother stared at me with a dignified, silent scowl. My heart dropped and I looked at Lilly whose eyes were still wide. She placed a hand on her throat as if she was unsure about what she’d eaten.

“It is our escape,” Lilly’s mother finally said, “We are going together. She won’t survive without me, and I won’t survive without her.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” I screamed at Lilly’s mother. She was silent but stern as she took Lilly’s hand and pulled her close.

“I won’t let my child suffer,” she said coolly but did not release her scowl. Lilly was now visibly confused and fearful. She looked to each of us and started to whimper. I tried to grab her hand and her mother pulled her away.

“You would kill her?!” I screamed. I was angry but my eyes brimmed with tears. I was trying to maintain an adult anger but it came out in sobs.

“Mommy,” Lilly started to wail. I could see her mother had not been completely honest about what was happening. Her mother picked her up and held her tight, trying to comfort her.

“Shut your mouth,” her mother hissed at me. “I will not see my child suffer. I don’t know how they went, do you!?” She pointed an angry finger at the door.

“Do you know,” I spat back, “Or would you murder your own child out of fear?”

Lilly’s mother said nothing but stared at me for a while, patting Lilly’s back while she cried. “I need to spend this time with my daughter,” she said after a minute.

“Are we gonna die?” Lilly whispered through tears to her mother. Her mother shushed her and turned away and sat back on the couch. I reached for Lilly one more time.

“She needs to throw it up! There’s still time!”

Her mother held onto her tight. “I don’t have any more of them I’m sorry,” her mother said, “It is the end. This is the most peaceful way to face it. None of us are going to survive and Lord knows she will not survive without me.”

I started to sob and kept trying to pull Lilly from her mother, who kept a strong grip on her. Lilly wailed as a gripped her arms and tried to pry her from her sadistic mother. Finally her mother’s arms were slack. I almost lost my footing and grabbed Lilly tight, shocked by her mother’s sudden change of heart. Then I looked up to see her neck was slack too. Head rolling forward onto her chest as her body slumped into the couch. I screamed, gathered Lilly and ran to the bathroom, searching through the cabinet for anything to make her vomit. Peroxide. Lilly had stopped wailing and her eyes looked glassy. I sat her next to the tub and she watched me quietly with tired eyes. I grabbed the peroxide and forced her to drink from the bottle. She swallowed once and then I couldn’t get her to swallow anymore. I patted her throat frantically, tilting the bottle higher.

“Lilly!” I screamed at her, shaking her. “Lilly you have to drink this! Drink this!” She opened her glassy eyes and gave me a cheerful little tired blink as if to tell me she was ready for that nap.

“Lilly!” Lilly! Lillly!” I continued to scream and shake her, pouring peroxide into her mouth but it only puddled and dripped down the front of her pink shirt. Her neck slacked like her mother’s and she lumped onto the floor next to my bathtub. On my knees I stared at the sight before me and heaved, unable to find breath. I was sobbing and screaming for the child that could no longer hear me. Blindly following the faith her mother had bestowed her, perhaps she and her mother were truly at peace together. I tried to remember that I was the only one mourning. That maybe her mother had been right, maybe they could see my hysterics from the other side, maybe they were laughing at my naivety. I doubled over on the floor in tears and lay there until I couldn’t cry anymore.

The earth rumbled around me. More screams. More explosions. More fire, more smoke. I heard glass shatter from the living room. When I had run out of tears and emotion I stood lifelessly. I gathered Lilly’s body in my arms and trudged to the front door. Smoke was floating into the living room through the broken window. I stared out the window. I wished for some awful monster to peer through and roar at me. I wished for some unspoken evil to reach a hand through and take me. I stared at the smoke and the broken window, hoping I could lure Death into this room one more time. He had forgotten me.

Nothing. None of the entities I’d seen earlier. No looter. No monster. I felt insulted by the gall of this universe to defy my surrender. I felt my spirit broken, but this physical body was clinging, heavily, to biological life that my soul had all but abandoned. I continued to the door, carrying Lilly. I opened the door and stepped just beyond the frame. Under the open air I felt Lilly begin to weigh on me. I wanted to carry her with me until I found Death himself. I wanted to curse him and demand he trade my soul for hers. I wanted every being left on this earth to feel crushed under the guilt of destroying an innocent child. But physically, I couldn’t carry her any further. I sat her on the doorstep and pulled the remaining flowers from what was left of my garden. I placed them all around her. In her hair, in her lifeless hands.

I sat her mother up on the couch and left one of my flowers with her. As much as I blamed and despised her, I knew Lilly would have mourned her loss, and I felt Lilly’s pain. I placed Lilly with her mother, adorned with flowers, closed the front door behind me and walked into the destruction before me.

Shimmers of golden light and a low humming drew my attention to the left. They were coming. I turned and stood to face them and saw millions of faces in their faceless, bodiless forms. I saw grief and joy in the shadows they cast. The humming grew louder and I heard the shrieks and the singing again and braced myself, remembering, this time, not to forget.