They Know The End

Matt

6:48 pm

It felt like we were walking for hours as the sky continued to darken. By now, all the blue from the sky was gone and replaced by pitch black. As we headed further and further away from the park, the lights were less frequent. All sources of light came from the houses, but they weren't as vibrant as the park lamp posts. They remained negligent in adding light posts on the sides of the road, which made the place darker. 

I felt a chill go down my spine as I thought about the various monsters that could appear from the encroaching darkness and kill us. Maybe this was how Russell and I would die. We might get run over by a car passing by here. Or we might be food for the many animals living in the huge dark forest across the sidewalk we walked on. Or we might accidentally fall into the river below from the bridge up ahead of us. 

The cold wind did nothing to soothe my doubts. And my aching feet did not help matters at all. 

Russell and Sasha, who were walking ahead of me, didn't seem scared at all. They continued walking like normal people, as if they hadn't gone insane yet. 

"We can't go on like this," I said, stopping. "We have to find a faster way to get there."

"There might be a few more houses up ahead." Sasha looked at me. "We can go there and ask for help or something. So we have to keep walking or else we won't reach them."

I swallowed my fear and we continued walking. But when we were at the bridge, I saw a trace of car lights on the road. I turned excitedly and saw a car coming to us rapidly. I waved my hand at where the hypothetical driver could see them. 

"Help!" I screamed. "We're lost!"

The car managed to brake to a stop just a few meters ahead of us. We caught up to the car just as a window went down. 

"Why are you so far from home this late?" the guy on the passenger seat asked us. 

Before we could answer, the driver called, "Get in! We can talk on the way."

We never got in the car quicker than that. 

-

I breathed an audible sigh of relief as we settled in the car. My parents told me to never trust strangers, but if you were desperate, you might as well take your chances. But still, there was a high probability the driver and passenger might just kill us on the spot. 

"What were you guys doing on the side of the road? And why are you walking out this late?" The passenger turned to us. 

"Well. . .we had no means of getting home so we decided to walk," I tried. 

"Geez, I really admire your generation's tenacity, but you could get killed!"

Silence reigned in that car. 

"Oh that's it, isn't it?" the driver quipped. "You're all Deckers?"

"No," Sasha answered, clearing her throat. "I'm not. The other two are."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's. . .okay," I replied. "There's no turning back from it anyway."

And that was true. No one could escape death, because it had always been part of the cycle of life. Life and death go hand in hand, after all. 

"What are your names?"

"Sasha." She pointed to the person beside her. "Russell." Then, at me. "Matt."

"I'm Tom," the driver said. "And this is Cal, my boyfriend."

Russell shot up. "Boyfriend?"

"Yeah." I can hear Tom's smile. "We've been. . .dating for a while now." Now, I could hear the laced hostility in them. "Don't tell me you guys are homophobic."

"No!" we all screamed at the same time. 

Cal sighed in relief. "That's good. Or we would've kicked you out of the car."

There was a pause. 

"What is it like?" Russell asked. "Being in a relationship with another boy?"

Tom shrugged. "It was just like any other relationship, honestly. It isn't as extravagant as it was portrayed in shows and movies and those kinds of stuff. You still deal with the same problems as if you were in a straight relationship because those don't discriminate. You still experience the same feelings for each other as if it were a straight relationship because those don't discriminate too. It's not special. The world just makes it feel like it is because they're not used to it yet. And I always say that it's their problem, not mine."

After a little quiet, he asked, "Do you have someone you like?"

Russell looked at me, and I looked at him. He gave me a small smile. "Yeah," he replied.

"Well, they're the only ones allowed to make you feel special in your relationship. No one else."

He nodded. He sounded like a teacher, teaching me the basics of love and romance.

"How did you guys end up together?" Sasha asked.

"We became friends in high school," Cal began. "Tom was a freshman and I was the guy everyone knows. When we met, we became really close and then--boom--we're boyfriends now."

Tom laughed. "That's not exactly what happened."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

They continued bantering for a while, so I watched Russell look out on the window. Soon enough, the lights became more frequent as we continued on. We passed by a bridge and saw a multitude of little lights at a distance. It must be from a mountains.

I held his hand and squeezed it. "Are you okay?" I whispered.

"Yeah," he said.

"Oh, right," Tom asked. "Where are you guys headed?"

"Just. . .a major bus terminal. We can get back on our own after that." Sasha told them the directions. He nodded.

"Good thing you did that," Cal told her. "He's not very keen on directions. I told him multiple times to use the GPS--"

"No, no, no--I'm confident in my abilities," he replied. "It's just that. . .you don't have faith in me."

He gasped in a playful way. "A bold accusation! You know full well that I was absolute faith in you. But sometimes you can be. . .misguided."

They descended into more playful banter. Russell decided to lean on my shoulder and sigh deeply. I became lost in the train of my own thoughts.

But I was interrupted by Tom, who was now looking at us. We were at an intersection and the traffic lights were red.

"You should tell us your story," he said.

"What?" I cleared my throat.

"Yeah, you should tell us where you're from and how you got here and all," Cal repeated for his boyfriend. "Tom's a writer and needs inspiration. Who knows? Maybe your story could become a book, or something."

The prospect of our story immortalized tickled my braggart self. It would be an amazing feeling to see your names and your lives on paper, for everyone to read, if I were alive by then of course. That would add more people who could remember me.

"I can help with the graphics," Sasha added. "I do street art."

"Nice, nice," Tom said. "What about you, Matt? I'm gonna record it. Is it gonna be fine with you guys?" Cal took a phone out on his signal.

"Sure," I said. Who would say no to immortality?

I turned to Russell and Sasha for their answers.

"I consent to being recorded and everything I say henceforth are true and factual," she said, all business-like.

"If Matt's doing it, then. . .I'm okay with it too." He smiled at me.

And so for the rest of the trip, I told everything from the beginning until to that point in time. The others butted in when they wanted to add something.

People say that I'm a good storyteller. In reality, I'm not. I just ramble on and on.

Luckily, I happen to have great listeners.