The year is 3017, and the world is about to end.

 

I don’t know how to feel about this situation. I know that I should be afraid. I know that I should be sad. Maybe angry, even. But I’m not any of those, really.

 

And even if I were, would it matter? Who would be there to care? The human race will be dead, as will the rest of life on Earth. The ‘aliens’ that are supposed to dig through our rubble for traces of society are nothing more than single celled microscopic blobs on a planet much farther than we could even begin to fathom.

 

I don’t know what I believe in terms of a higher power. But, if there is some sort of god or other omniscient being, I have difficulty believing that he cares about the apocalypse. You could argue that whoever it was planned this. That we were just another product utilizing planned obsolescence. But I doubt it. This was our fault.

 

We took everything we had and we burned it. All the coal, all the oil. We realized the problem too late. And I give us credit for trying, I do. But it was hopeless. The world’s various ‘superpowers’ refused to collaborate. Anything useful was expensive, and of course nobody had the budget for that (though of course there was always money for nuclear war ).

 

“Are you scared?” My younger sister, Megan, asks, sitting down next to me and leaning her head on my shoulder.

 

“I’m not sure. You?” I reply, and wrap my arm around her.

 

“Yeah. I don’t want to die.”

 

“I don’t either.” But that was a lie. Once you’re dead, you’re dead. You don’t have the consciousness to feel bad about it, to regret anything, to think of all the things you should have done. You can’t. So what did I care if I was dead?

 

“I… I wish mom was here,” Megan said. A flash of anger seared through me, but briefly. Yesterday I would have screamed at her for bringing up mom. But today was only going to be fifteen minutes longer, so what was the point?

“Yeah. I guess. But we’ll see her in heaven, yeah?” We were brought up Catholic. My sister prayed every night. Lot of good that did.

 

“Yeah.” We were silent after that. I checked the clock on the wall. I never liked that clock. It was colored an obnoxious bright yellow. I had always wanted to smash it, and really, now would be the time. But I didn’t. A happy timekeeping device seemed oddly appropriate right now.

 

I watched the second hand hit the 6. 12 and a half minutes.

 

In twelve in a half minutes, anything that there ever was on Earth would be gone.

 

But again, what does it matter? Yes, we were the most intelligent species on the planet, the first in the solar system, perhaps in the whole universe. Yes, everything from the distance of the sun to the orbit of the moon had to be perfectly aligned for the Earth to amount to anything. Yes, the fact that we ruined this glorious thing is a tragedy.

 

But who would know? We owed life to ourselves, and that was it. There was nobody else rooting for our survival. Any god who cared would have prevented this. The rocks orbiting a ball of fire will not mourn us. They will continue with what they’re doing for hundreds of millions of years after us as they did for hundreds of millions of years before us. Perhaps we’ve disappointed ourselves, but in 11 minutes and 25 seconds we might as well have never existed.

 

“I know that Mom told you not to tell me... But what are they going to do in 10 minutes?”

 

“11. We have 11 minutes.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“They’re going to set off a bomb. A lot of bombs. I think they said one every five miles. They’re nuclear. They’ll destroy everything instantly.”

 

“Just America?”

 

“Everywhere. This is the one thing that the whole world could agree on, strangely enough.”

 

“Why are they doing this…?”

“I can’t really explain it, but pretty much, we’ve run out of oil and coal and stuff. They haven’t had time to perfect any other kind of electricity. They know that society is going to crumble without it. And the carbon dioxide levels are already toxic in some places. They don’t know how to fix it. They think that it’s just going to be easier to get rid of us all.”

 

“They’re going to kill all the animals too?”

 

“There isn’t really a way around it. And they’re worried that eventually they’ll just evolve into humans again.”

 

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

 

“I don’t think so either. But apparently it isn’t a risk they’re willing to take.”

 

“This doesn’t sound like a very good plan.”

 

“No. No, it doesn’t.” I don’t blame them, though. They’ve been creating plans for over a thousand years. Those plans may have been better but they didn’t stick. Required too much effort, too much money. Required too much cooperation that most countries weren’t willing to give. When they finally found a plan that everyone agreed too, it doesn’t surprise me that they picked it. Even if the plan was this.

 

Eight minutes.

 

I began to think about what I would say to people if they were sitting here with me. I should have said something days ago. Made an effort to see them, or even just email them. But I didn’t.

 

Mom,

I don’t know why you did it. Killed yourself, I mean. I can’t help but think you’re selfish. I know there were only two days left. But I wish you had spent them with Megan and I.

 

Dad,

I wish you had told me why you had left. I wish you had stayed long enough for Megan to remember you. I wish you didn’t break mom’s heart. But really, I wish you didn’t marry her in the first place. Megan and I would be out of the picture. Mom would be happy with another man and another family. And I wouldn’t have to be here. I hope your apocalypse is going well.

 

Bryan,

You didn’t come to see us when they made the announcement. I don’t know if I really expected you to. I hope you and dad are happy. But if I’m honest, I wish you hadn’t left. Moms should win custody battles. That’s how it works.

 

Casey,

I’m sorry that we aren’t friends anymore. I regret that every day. I don’t have a best friend now. By highschool everyone already has one. But I miss having one. It’s just little things, like having that person who knows where the cups are kept in your house. Or who comes over and isn’t afraid to eat your food. I miss that.

 

Dylan,

I really thought that I wanted to marry you. I understand why that scared you. We were only 13, after all. But I loved you. And  I wanted to have a family with you. In the city. Maybe Orlando, or New York. We would have two kids. We would have money, and buy them everything. I guess that was a dumb dream. But wish we had made it at least to tenth grade. I loved you.

 

Two minutes.

 

Grace,

I wish you knew more Spanish. Then you could have gone to Spain. Or Mexico.

I wish you hadn’t quit music. You could have been good at it.

I wish you hadn’t made so many mistakes. Maybe I would hate you less.

I wish you had spent more time with Megan. She loved you so much and you didn’t talk to her as much as you should have.

But despite all of that, I wish you a good apocalypse and I hope that your logic on death and its irrelevancy benefits you.

45 seconds.

 

“Gracie, I-I’m scared,” Megan whispered, tears falling from her eyes.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon. And we’ll go to heaven, and we’ll see mom. And dad and Bryan too,” I said, tightening my arm around her. I closed my eyes, shutting them tight, choking back a sob.

 

I wonder if it’ll hurt. It’s supposed to be instant. And I’m sure it’ll be fast, but what if there’s a second where I can feel my body just ripping apart? And I’ll hear the explosion so, so loudly. I’ll probably scream. And Megan will too. I don’t want to hear Megan scream.

 

Death is always described as being swallowed by darkness or a flash of white light. I thought that I’d want unconsciousness, no regrets no feelings. But I’d rather have an afterlife. I still don’t know if I believe in one, but I want one. I don’t care if it’s Christian or Muslim or Egyptian or any other religion’s. I just want someone there to tell me that I’m ok. To tell me that it’s over now and that I have eternity to be ok.

 

20 seconds.

 

“Gracie, I love you,” Megan said.

 

“I love you too. But don’t give me a goodbye. I’ll see you when this is done. Heaven, ok? I’ll see you there.” I let myself cry. There was no pride at the end of the world.

 

10 seconds.

 

The bright yellow clock continued ticking. It did not seem to realize that it should stop.

 

7 seconds.

 

I like to imagine that there’s some scientist somewhere (with country leaders and their families, representation from everywhere in the world) standing in front of a giant control panel. And there’s a big red button, dead center. Everyone has a glass of champagne, even the kids.  Everyone is worried, but mostly they’re just happy that their plan is working.

 

Everyone has a finger on the button. It’s big, like I said. And there’s a huge countdown clock. Everyone is waiting for it to hit zero so they can just hit the button. Sure, some people might back out, but all it takes is one person with conviction to slam the button down and enable the end of the world. There is no cancel button. It’s instant.  

 

4 seconds.

 

I take Megan’s hand, and grip it hard. This is it. This is the end.

3 seconds.

 

But everybody knew that humans were going to self destruct, didn’t they? I guess they thought it would be war. But oh no. This is intentional.

 

2 seconds.

 

I guess when it really comes down to it, moments before annihilation, there is nothing I regret. There is nowhere I would rather be or anyone I would rather be with. I have no apologies that I want to give. I’m done. I quit.

 

1 second.

 

It’s harrowing to realize that this entire species, this entire world, was just one big waste of time.

0 seconds.