I was in danger. I didn’t know the hows or whys of it, but a warhead had been launched, and was making its way towards Denver. The ETA for the bomb was at 8:30 P.M.
The first thing I did was hop into a car that wasn’t mine and drove down to a girl’s house. The reason was simple: I wanted to ride out The Apocalypse with her.
For one reason or another, the drive down there took forever. By the time I had arrived on her street (the streets were strangely empty and quiet for a city about to be destroyed), the sun was already starting to set. I picked her up and brought her back to my place. It was there, I guess, that we were going to sit and die.
When we got there, we were stopped by a friend of mine (the only other person outside besides the two of us). He waved to us both and, casually, said, “see you later,” before going back home. I wondered why he was saying that knowing that he would not be seeing us later.
The sun had gone down. Looking up, I could see the large warhead looming overhead. I turned to the girl and tightly gripped her hand. Before we died, I had decided, I wanted to tell her that I loved her. Instead, she began pulling me out into the middle of the street, where the large warhead had already broken up into smaller missiles and colliding into the ground. She wanted to see the end up close and personal.
I struggled with her. I screamed and yelled over the sounds of explosions and pulled on her in an attempt to get her to stop running. I even grabbed onto a streetlight to give me some extra strength, to no avail. I didn’t want to die until I told her how I felt about her. As these bombs; these evil fireworks went off around my head and blinded me, I was only able to think, I love you, I love you.