I took a deep breath and braced for the worst as I descended the stairs.

"Whoa, uh. . ." my dad stuttered.

I looked at my parents, who were at the kitchen-dining room, huddled together. They were clearly at a loss before I arrived.

"That's. . ." my mom began.

"What do you think?" I said, clearing my throat. "My friend used to wear something like this. . ."

They understood which friend I was talking about.

"It looks good on you," she finally said.

That made me smile faintly.


"It really brings out the muscles you have."

"I agree," my dad added, finally out of his confusion.

We were silent for a while.

"Where will they be burying him?" I asked them.

"It's up to the parents," my mom answered, matter-of-factly. She had been the one closest to the body, after all.

"He isn't from the best circumstances." I sat down on the table. "I'm sure you can do. . .something."

They looked at each other.

"We'll see what we can do," my dad said. He sat on the seat across me. "How about you? Where do you like to be buried?"

"Just the usual." I shrugged. "Nothing too extravagant."

The edges of his lips curled up and his eyes shone. "Okay."

"Okay."

Then, the tears came out of his eyes. "Come here." I moved to him and he hugged me.

"I'm going to miss you," he muttered through his tears. "You're the best thing that came to this earth. I'm sorry if I did anything wrong, or stupid. I just. . .we just want the best for you."

I breathed sharply through my tears, trying not to let anymore escape. "Dad. . .thank you. I love you."

"I love you too."

My mom joined on the hug. "Oh, Matt. Thank you for existing. You're literally a blessing to us, and we'll treasure your memory forever and ever and ever and ever--"

I chuckled through the weeping. "Thank you, mom. I love you too."

We embraced for what seemed like forever to me. I wished that it would stay like this forever.

"Now, we should have some fun time!" She clapped her hands and turned to me with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Matt, have you tried some wine?"

-

11:09 pm

We did a lot of stuff, more so than we ever did any other day. I managed to taste some wine, despite my dad's reservations. We took out some board games, laughed at old photos, had a pillow fight, and made prank calls to our neighbors. I was always on the floor laughing each time; who knew my mom was so fun?

But eventually, it was time for us to go to sleep. We went to my room together, hand in hand.

My mom and dad sat on the bed I was lying down on.

"I'm going to miss you," my mom said, rubbing my hair.

"Yeah," my dad agreed. "You won'y believe it, but we wouldn't be here without you."

I smiled. "Thank you for being my parents. I love you both."

"We love you too." He wiped a tear from his eye. "The clock moves past midnight and suddenly. . .you won't be here anymore."

"Yeah." I thought about how I would die, but I just decided that I would let life take its course.

They stood up and began approaching the door. "Good night, Matt."

"Good night."

Reluctantly, they closed the door behind them.

And now, I was alone again, lying on the bed late at night, staring at the ceiling. It was just like how it all began.

I relived every moment of today. It was my last, but it was a great time. I had fun with my friends and my parents. It was everything I dreamed about.

But then, the longer I stayed and thought, the more I felt somber and depressed. His love--and perhaps his only one--died to a bunch of bandits essentially. The prospect of my death loomed closer every second closer to midnight. I was like Cinderella, in a way; blessed until midnight.

But unlike her, I wouldn't be waiting for the clock to strike twelve.

I got up and started packing some things. I got some heavy things and snuck out of my room.

I made my way to the dark downstairs and to the kitchen. I grabbed an assortment of knives and picked the biggest pointed one.

Then, I went to the front door.

On my way out, I took one last look at the house. The various board games, some empty wine glasses, and a stack of photo albums lay on thr living room table, a memory of past events. I could only smile bitterly as I left.

I passed by our trash bin and took off the cover. I held its handle like a shield as I began walking in the path I committed to memory.

When I arrived at the sidewalk where Russell died in my arms, I only felt numbness course through my body as I stared at the dark expanse ahead of me.

I felt the same certainty whenever I was about to do something that felt right. It was right, because I was here to seek revenge on the ones who robbed me of what--who--made me happy.

I clutched the knife on one hand and the trash lid shield on the other. And slowly but surely, he walked towards the darkness, to unsuspecting bandits who were probably fast asleep.

Revenge and rage only burned on my mind. Adrenaline was ready to be dispensed all throughout my body. I was ready. It would keep me alive for some time.

But regretfully, I never knew how to fight.

The End. . .

They Know The EndWhere stories live. Discover now