I can hear her laughing long before I even set foot on the balcony.
It's the last day on earth, not mine, but everybody's.
Rising temperatures, melting poles, raping the earth for fuels, we all knew it was coming.
But not this way. Not this way.
No one thought the sun would go.
It's ironic, actually. We did everything to destroy the planet and in the end it's not humans that are the death of us.
Once outside I can see the sun setting in the distance, glowing even redder than usual, dying.
And I can see her, twirling twirling twirling closer to the edge.
"Be careful!" I warn her, but she only giggles. Of course. It doesn't matter. She's been dead a long time.
My youth. My innocence. My hope.
She cocks her head, wraps a strand of her ash-blond hair around her finger (shot through with red ever since I dyed it when I was 14; almost coppery in the dying light) and regards me with steady storm-blue eyes.
My eyes. The eyes I spent hoursmonthsyears looking into in the mirror.
We stare at each other. Contemplating. She looks away and grins impishly. I sigh, walk to the edge and sit down, letting my legs dangle. It's only a few feet to the ground. I'm 90 years old; it might as well be a few miles.
I feel her fingers ghosting over my hair, pushing the fringe from my face (like my sister), turning it into a caress.
"Smile! It's the end of the world!"
"Easy for you to say," I grumble. She giggles again. Was I ever really that young?
She sits down next to me and hums. Knowing myself it's probably "It's the End of the World as we Know it (and I feel fine)."
Now I do smile a little. Her hand (so young so young) finds mine (wrinkles, bah) and she entwines our fingers.
I feel like crying. I want to tell her to never give up, that no matter how hopeless everything seems, she should go on. That she's strong. That life is worth living, even if it doesn't seem that way sometimes.
If only *I'd* known.
I can feel her eyes boring into me again. I face her and raise a pale eyebrow.
This time her smile is loving. I've missed that.
"I'm glad you came."
"Where else could I possibly be?"
I press her hand.
The world goes dark.
