The End of the Beginning

Chapter 2

I decide to go for a run. Running has been my escape for many years, since battling anxiety and depression. I get back home and wet a rag with water to clean myself up. I brush my teeth and hair, and apply my deodorant. I begin to journal the day. I decide to journal incase things do return to normal, I can reflect on what happened and what my personal experience was.

While journaling, I hear the sound of a car coming to a stop. I quickly jump up and run outside to see if my ears are deceiving me. They are not. A 2010 black Jeep Wrangler is approaching the neighborhood.

It's my neighbor, Ben, whom I also graduated high school with the other week. Ben and I did not hang around the same social circle in high school, although we were best of friends in middle school. When we entered high school, I ventured off and made it into the "popular" crowd. Ben did not. I'd hate to say that my ego got the best of me, but it did.

I run outside and quickly approach Ben as he is exiting his car. He looks scared, but relief quickly approaches his face when he sees me getting closer.

"Sam!" He exclaims. "What the hell is going on?"

"I have no idea." I respond. "It has been a complete ghost town since morning. No running water, no electric, and not one person in sight, well, besides you."

"I woke up at my girlfriend's house, and nobody was there. I hung out for a while, just thinking they went out, but then it got later and they never returned."

"That is pretty much the same thing that happened to me."

"Is this the end of the world?"

"I have been asking myself that question all day."

"Go figure, I finally get a girlfriend and the world ends." He says with defeat.

I snicker. Ben was always funny, even without trying to be. For the first time in almost a full day, I was able to exchange my crying with laughter.

"Ben, do you mind if I stay with you?" I ask with fear in my eyes. "I don't want to be alone anymore."

"Of course, Sammy." He hadn't called me Sammy since we were fourteen. It felt weird, but also comfortable. Comfort is exactly what I need right now.

We walk into his house in search of his family, just for shits and giggles, of course.

"Mind if I clean up a little?" Ben asks.

"Of course not." I respond. "Can I possibly explore your book collection? Lack of television, radio and social media might help me get back into reading."

"Have at it. It's in the same spot you remember." He says while walking into his bathroom. I wonder around his house, and find myself upstairs in his bedroom. It looks the same as it did four years ago.

I tread my fingers along the books on his shelf. All of the selections look to have been read hundreds of times. That is something I always admired about Ben. When he found something he loved, he loved it more than anything. If he found a book so captivating, he made sure to read it and reevaluate it until he knew every word.

After having no luck on finding any of the available books interesting, I find myself staring at a binder that is tucked away, almost invisible. It is our binder. We made it together in the sixth grade. It contains pictures and quotes and memorabilia. I forgot this thing existed. We filled it with a lot of memories, the good and the bad.

"Oh, that old thing." Ben said, walking in with damp dark curls falling over his eyes, while he toweled off his neck. "Remember that?"

"I do now." I replied with a small smile. "I always thought I had it and had just lost it. I'm happy to know it was in good hands."

"I took very good care of it. Not a dust bunny in sight." He winked innocently with his light brown eyes.

I smile back, thanking my lucky stars that I have a familiar face to go through this with. Whatever this is.

"Make yourself comfortable." He demands, grabbing the binder and placing it back in its spot.

I begin walking towards his bench against the window, and sit down. I find myself staring out into the town that once was filled with mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters and friends and coworkers. If I had known last night was my final night with my family, I would have done many things differently. What I would give to see my mom sitting at the kitchen table, doing her crossword puzzle while sipping on her tea. I took advantage of my family.         

I wake up in the middle of the night. Ben had let me have his bed, while he slept in his parent's bed.

A bright light comes shooting through the window. Bright enough to nearly blind me. I quickly jump out of bed and cover the window with Ben's black out curtains.

The television turns on, as well as all of the lights. I smell coffee, muffins and bacon. Something is not right here. Am I dreaming?

I open the bedroom door, step out and find myself on a beach somewhere. That confirms it, I am dreaming. Let's roll with it, the least I will get out of it is a free vacation, which feels much needed right now.

Wish You Were Here... Fort Lauderdale Beach is engraved on a wooden board in the sand. There is a cutout that allows you to take your picture, as if you're sending a post card. There is not a person in sight. There are no seagulls. Which is odd in its own, being that it is a beach. But, then again, it is a dream.

I walk the beach a little more, feeling the warmth of the sun hit my skin. In the distance I spot an older woman in her late 50's. She has long grey hair that has natural beach waves. Her eyes appear to be green, just like mine. I stare for a while and she notices me. We exchange a wave and a smile.

Something about this dream feels real. The sky darkens, and the sun fades away. The thunder starts and wind picks up to 50 miles per hour. The sand begins to dance and the water reaches my knees. This woman reaches out, as if trying to grab my hand. The storm brings us closer together, and as soon as we are about to grab each other's hand, I wake up.

I sit up drenched in a pool of my sweat. The dream felt all too real. I quickly jot down everything I remember from the dream. The waves. The sand. The lack of seagulls. The wind. The lady. The fear.