"I have been dying to get inside and meet you. We haven't stayed in touch for years."
"So kill yourself, we could be together. I have mailed something to myself. Check it out, it will be useful." A butcher knife, well, I know what to do. There aren't any people, or monsters, walking down the streets, in the driving rain. The lights are flicking like a Morse code, repeating the same pattern.
She's an electrician, I'm a cryptographer. We came to one another in the time when both of those skills were not needed, an apocalypse. Childhood memories are the greatest happened to us, an accident. Our families were next to each other, the innocents were lying around the graveyard, above the ground. I don't remember anything.
The lights gave out a message - "Death has come, in a good way. They won't forget you."
The last moments before I fall onto the ground, the door opens. The rope is wrapping around the head of someone I know, yet I never come to knock on the door, although it is only a couple footsteps away. I close my eyes, after seeing what has been Christmas. Presents, milk and cookies and a house burnt down. Actually, two of them. Knocked to unconsciousness, I died, simple.
The last page of the story read: "And they lived happily ever after." - my mother said.
"That is what my sleep paralysis will be tonight. Thanks for that! Good night."
I promised those were not the exact words I said to my mother. But I had a hard time going to sleep, feeling moved and scared simultaneously.
Then I heard a knock on a door. My father came in with a butcher knife in one hand and my skip ropes in the other. "I have come to put you back to sleep. Everything's okay. We won't forget you."
I heard a loud scream in the house next door. I was having a sleepover at my best friend's home when we saw a man-made supernova. So we ran out of the house because we knew that my best friend's house would be affected. We were behind on our bills, both of the families. So the fire kept on spreading, like the neutron collapsing into one another, like the streets lights turning out one by one.
I lost my future partner for a lifetime.
I came to a place I wasn't supposed to be decades after the incident. I was surprised at how many people were there. I tried to start conversations with them. But no one wanted to talk with me.
"Do you know why you are here?"
"Yes, I do. I will love forever, even if we are across the universe. Even if I am the prisoner and you are the executioner."
"Step forward." - "You don't know what you're doing here, right?"
"Our stories will be just like our parents'. It will be passing down our future generations, stories between an electrician and a cryptographer."
Now that I think about it, most of the people didn't leave the place after what had I just said, the awkward silence was present.
I am now in prison, waiting for the apocalypse to end so that my home country's infantrymen to mistake me away from these iron bars and red lasers so I can meet someone I haven't kept in touch for decades. I still don't know if the butcher knife has ended at my parents' home yet.