They Know The End

Russell

3:00 am

This Matthew guy, seriously. He said that he wanted to make the most of the day and then decided to get some rest. Talk about getting ditched.

Now, I was walking aimlessly outside. Even at this hour, the streets were filled with vehicles and bikes. Horns filled the usual silence of these kinds of roads, and the soot of gas stung my nose a little.

I wiped my nose and almost bumped to a guy, who wasn't even walking straight. We both locked eyes.

His eyes seemed cloudy. His clothes were disheveled and he was making hand gestures with a bottle of beer on his hand.

A drunk, huh. The fact he managed to stand up in this state was a miracle.

"Wanna come drink?" he asked me. The way he said it made him sound like he was in slow motion. "I. . .could use a budd--hic."

"Yeah, no," I replied and pushed past him. I had no time for that.

He was screaming curses at me, but were drowned out by the bustling atmosphere.

-

So, looking for a place to sleep was already starting to become an issue.

It was a rare occasion for me to find places to sleep. I usually had a house to sleep in, but now that some big guys were after me, I couldn't risk going back to that place.

My stomach churned. I hadn't said my goodbyes to my parents yet.

Anyway, I looked around and there weren't exactly rest places that I could immediately access. I could buy me a room in some motel, but they would probably suspect me of drug activity or something. It happened a lot of times, and I wasn't willing to replicate that, especially if I was going to die.

I continued walking until my legs ached. I clutched my tote bag a bit tighter, just in case of thieves.

I let my feet wander around in the streets, letting the memory of each step take me somewhere.

I found myself further away from the noise of the streets and onto the single-file rocky paths once more. It was so quiet that I could only hear the sound of chirping critters.

The moon illuminated the outlines of houses with various designs and stories, all cramped into two lines separated by the path.

I had gotten far enough to decide that this was where I would sleep. It was a small nook in between two houses. The space was thin enough for someone like me to fit in, but I still had to squeeze into it.

I placed down my tote bag and rested my head on it, the plastic making sounds as I settled on it as my pillow.

And then, suddenly, I couldn't sleep. I looked at the stars when there were none. The sky was as bleak as ever, thanks to the clouds that blocked the moon from shining.

I was going to die today, and when I would wake up to a new day, I would've spent the last six hours doing absolutely nothing.

Maybe this was how I'd die. Maybe I would close my eyes and see black for the rest of time. Maybe it was because of the snacks I had on my headrest. Or how I was a vulnerable boy and how the world decided that I needed a pathetic way to go.

I laughed to myself. Why was I like this?

The sky had no answer for me, and so did  I.

I tried closing my eyes, only to open them a few minutes later. I considered picking a different spot, but I couldn't find the will to stand up and walk again.

Was it better to risk my life to go back home?

I sat up and decided that I ate a snack. I pulled out some chips, tore it open, and munched in the darkness. I looked behind me to see if there was someone else there, watching.

But there was no one. And I finished my food in peace. I placed the packaging back into the bag and lay back down.

A few minutes later, a burp pierced the silence.

I laughed to myself.

I burped again.

I laughed even harder. My laugh echoed on these quiet walls.

Once I settled down, I wished that I had someone else with me. Usually I had my friend, Elias, with me. We were inseparable best friends, even up to the point he had a tiny crush on me.

I smiled at the memory. I wondered what Elias would be doing right now. I knew he wouldn't be sleeping, because he often slept at dawn. So, he would be at the room, doing nothing because we were poor.

In this country, the rich looked down on us and showered us money via the other rich people, promising they would give it to us. Now, we're still begging.

It was up to the point that death was a better place than the living.

Maybe that was why I was so unfazed when Death-Cast called.

But still, it was nice to have a friend over.

My thoughts drifted to my Last Friend. Tomorrow--or specifically, a few hours later--I would meet him in the mall near the main city.

If I were any regular person, I would've given second thoughts before agreeing to his plan. Those Last Friend murders were only getting more rampant, and if this guy turned out to be a killer, it would be a hundred percent my fault for being vulnerable.

But I wasn't any regular person.

And besides, in a world where we know when we die, it was best for the dying to die together.