Finire

The end of the world came, but that was all to be expected.

2012, a number so carefully seeded into our minds, a prophecy that signified the end of the world. How much I cared for it was equal to the time I spent worrying about it. It sprouted, but then again, fear had limits. The watering can filled with anxiety and concern soon emptied itself. The seed, having no source of nutrition, would eventually wilt.

Who ever would have guessed that it would grow to become something more than just a flower?

Not only did it turn into a tree, it continued to swarm every part of me, so much that it now encloses me, becoming part of me. Ironically, I embrace it welcomingly, knowing well that the inevitable is, well, inevitable.

The forty-second time went by, with no success. Even though I know that all is in vain, my stubborn nature retains itself. The next call went through the same pattern, failing to go through.

There was a wave of people trying to get through, and the overloaded systems only allowed a handful of random calls to get through.

How did it end? Well, let’s say that it was far from what everyone though it would be.

Sure, there was an earthquake, and tsunamis and eruptions. There were even meteors falling and typhoons whirling all over the surface of the earth. It is unquestionably the end.

A word that first sprung to mind was chaos. Seeing the people rushing everywhere, the car accidents caused by the nonexistent care, the planes carrying people way over their capacity, it was quite the sight. The only thing on the minds of the hasty was to flee from the inescapable. You can’t run from what you can’t hide from, and you just can’t get away from the end.

Where was I? I was by the sea, ready to clinch the wave which would hit head on. I was not the only one, there were a dozen more, give or take. We were right in front of the city, awaiting what fate had in store for us.

Remember when I said this was chaos? That was before; I now see it as beauty.
The silence left by the lack of people acted as a sort of dissolvent to the pandemonium and disarray. Time slows to a crawl, and all I hear are the resonance of the distant destruction. It’s almost like a musical, one that manages to blend the reverberation of nature without even trying. The din of the birds are so clear, the clamor of the leaves so lucid. Combining those things with the constant beeps somehow make a rhapsody, one that defeats those from a time of no trepidation.

The sights were similarly mesmerizing. The meteors stole the show, their flaming paths giving the sunset a stunning shade. The smoke in the distance added to that picture, it would either originate from another city that already faced its fate, or it would be from a random car crash. The ground’s many cracks seemed limitlessly long, having no conceivable distance. Taking care not to step into them, I walked towards the bench that remained in its original state, unturned by the tremors which hit hours ago.

The fifty-seventh time went by, ending in no avail. Holding down the 2 key, the speed dial command instantaneously went through.

The other people were as assorted as the visions of conclusions. There were people like me, who wanted nothing more than to get a call through. There were people who spent time with their kids, playing in the water with what little time they had left. There was a couple, kissing without a care in the world.

It’s amazing what being this close to death does to you. We’re so used to wasting time for things such as leisure and dream chasing, but having no time at all somehow makes you learn what you should have learned long ago.

You’re never against the clock when your day of death is already carved out in stone. Time being illusory helps too; hours and minutes have no meaning. The only dividers were the natural turnings from day to night and vice versa.

Waiting would be hard if time had significance, but now, all that was in store was the end; the end of life, the end of suffering, and the end of all things meaningful.
The sixty-first call followed suit. Yet the next came without vacillation.

Truth be told, I was savoring the moment. I never seen a meteor shower, nor have I seen the consternation of the animals who call this doomed place a home. The dolphins were leaping off the surface, leaving gleaming droplets in their wake. The birds are flying off in flocks, leaving us with nothing but their beautiful outlines. The nearby forest cliffs are no longer vacant; instead there are lions and tigers that set aside their differences, looking towards the ocean where the catastrophe was most likely to strike.

Who knows, perhaps it won’t end at all. As the third beep of the sixty-ninth call ended, I see one of the many meteorites straying from its set path. It was falling straight into the ocean which my current position overlooked.

How long it would take to reach the point where the splash that engulfs our city begins? One couldn’t judge, for an approximate size was required. All I knew was that the time I had was short. The seventy-second time I dialed, I had some sort of premonition. Maybe this would go through.

The meteor in the distance was so close to collision. From my viewpoint, it seemed like there was but a finger’s length between it and the sea.

The third beep came and went, but nothing followed. Sighing, I repeated the routine.

The time the meteor took to crash down was long enough for me to attempt three more calls, and start another. When it hit, there was no tremble in the crust, no quiver felt. All I could focus on was the tidal wave approaching us.

The mixed responses I saw in my companions were, to say the least, varied. Some instantly rush for their cars, rushing to get away from the concrete prophecy that now loomed. Some tried their best to hide the fear, thinking it better to accept, rather than escape fate.

The eye catcher was the couple, they may not have seen the wall of water coming, but they remained in the state they have been. They were in each other’s arms, saying nothing, but at the same time, feeling nothing.

Me? I was still fumbling with the phone, trying for the eightieth time.

The wave came slowly, but its magnitude was not one to scoff at. The very sight of it would strike fear into the most valiant hearts.

Yet somehow, that feeling of dread was not here. All I cared about was to get the call through.

Judging by its alacrity, I would presume that three minutes was all it needed to reach the shore.

There was then the drawback, the recession of the water, confirming the cataclysm. If anything, I didn’t even care. The ninety-sixth call went, and the hourglass within me counted down to its last sixty seconds.

Beep.

Fifty seconds.

Beep.

Forty-five.

Beep.

Please get through.

A click sound was heard. Finally.

Hi, you’ve reached Karen and Wayne. We’re unable to take your call at the moment. Please leave a message after the beep.

Figures.

Last ten seconds. I said the only things that came to mind.

“Mom, dad, I love you."

Then came the crash, then darkness.