Day 1: Leo

365 days was all we had left to live. That’s what popped up on the news last night. Hard to believe right, after 21 years of living something like this would just suddenly happen. Apparently a meteor was on its way to hit Earth and would end all life as we know it. Going out like the dinosaurs didn't seem too bad, but it was just hard to believe. 

Right before hearing the news, I was ready to jump. Ready to see John. Standing on the edge of the bridge, thinking it was over. An emergency alert lit up my phone. I assumed it was another amber alert and felt annoyed—this was supposed to be the final moment of my life, and now it was interrupted. I took out my phone and looked at the screen. The alert mentioned a meteor. Sounded fake. But curiosity won. I checked the news—and every site said the same thing: it was real. We’re all going to die.

Something rose in me—not fear, not panic, but happiness. A strange, stupid happiness. I should’ve been in despair. I stood there for a minute, frozen, breathing in the cold air. Why was I happy? Then it hit me, and a smile slowly crept up on my face. I let out a little laugh, we’re all going to die. I finally understood why I was happy. It was because it was as if my life wasn’t the only tragic one any more, despite how much of a failure I am, everyone is going to die in a year. I had nothing to live for but so does everyone else. Knowing everyone else would die too—that made me feel alive. Was this feeling selfish of me? Just because my life is complete crap, am I justified in being happy that everyone would end up like me? Yes it was selfish, it makes me a horrible person, but I don’t care. I was preparing to die alone, in shame. But suddenly, everyone was facing the same fate. It was cruel, but... at least I wasn't alone anymore. I felt happy for once. And was going to use the most of this happiness, up till the very end.

At that moment I was filled with excitement but still —there’s no way this was true, right? I immediately rushed back to my apartment and ran to my room. I looked around and the only thing that was there was my bed.

Oh yeah, I sold all my stuff right before this.

Before I planned to die, I’d tried to pay my parents back. They were good to me — put everything into my education. But I was failing and felt like I was wasting their money. So last year I dropped out, but I never told them. I just started working, saving every cent. I thought I could give them something before I left, so I spent a year working nonstop, saving every cent to repay my parents. And throughout today I was able to sell everything I had, or at least most of it. The laptop was gone, TV too, I even downgraded my phone. The phone was old so I couldn’t check the news properly. I let out a sigh while staring at the shoebox on the ground. That was where I’d put all my money. I had hoped that after I died my parents would find this and would read the note telling them to keep the money. But now… if everyone was going to die, then I could use all of this money to make my last days meaningful. Before I do anything stupid I have to confirm this fact. I drove to the closest library so I could use their computers. Turns out it was true. Today was the day I could truly live.

What should I do? So many options, no stress, no worries—just a ticking clock.

This was real, I wasn’t wasting it. I rushed to the nearest store, grabbed a notebook, and started writing. Tonight I’ll put all the things I want to do in this notebook and tomorrow I’ll start pursuing these goals. The world’s ending, and I’ve got a shoebox full of cash. Time to live.