The alarm rang once, then twice, then a third time — and the best part was Elliot woke up before the alarm… He just couldn't be bothered to lift his lazy body to switch it off. The sound was loud and annoying, not fitting the darkness of the room. A hand finally slid out from under the duvet, hit the phone screen, and accidentally sent the phone clattering to the floor.
Elliot sat up unsteadily on the bed, then put his feet on the cold floor and shivered from the chill. "Ahhh, fuck, fuck, fuck, it's freezing!" he hissed, pulling his feet back under the blanket.
In the kitchen the kettle buzzed almost immediately. The mug — the same one as always — sat on the counter.
The bathroom took everything without comment: a tired face in the mirror… the face of a man with fair skin and dark, slightly curly, a bit messed-up hair. He had a long face and dark eyes with faint bags under them. Cold water on his wrists, the toothbrush clacking against porcelain, and finally he left the bathroom.
The clothes had been laid out by their owner since yesterday.
"I'm a guy who hasn't a clue what 'something worth doing' is or a 'life goal'," he told himself. "I'll just earn money without much commitment till I'm fifty or sixty, then enjoy a purposeless life in some cheap country — nice woman, a few friends and a dog." He added it like a mantra.
––
Elliot adjusted his tie in one smooth motion, though it was already perfectly in place. The office smelled stuffy, mixed with cheap coffee and sweaty hands. "Damn, it reeks… Don't these people know you're supposed to wash after work, ya know, to freshen up?" he asked himself.
"Ohhh, my mate Elliot!" The boss's voice, hoarse and over-eager, cut through the silence in his ears. "What did ya have today, Elliot? Did ya like breakfast?" the boss asked.
"Yup." He answered in a tone so stiff you could hang laundry on it… Not that the smelly folks there did laundry.
Elliot stared at his monitor, trying not to get into extra interactions with his irritating coworkers.
"It's been… well, I'm 31 now, so I finished uni about nine years ago. I thought it'd give me some purpose, but now — whether I'm awake or asleep — I only think about money. As long as I've got cash, other people don't matter. I just gotta secure all this… I'd say I'm a nihilist…" he repeated in his head like a mantra.
He left the office late, the sun already hiding behind glass towers, casting long shadows over the city. His legs took him to the little bakery on the corner. The smell of fresh bread was soothing.
"Do… do you like this bread? You come here just for this bread all the time… Don't they sell it anywhere else nearby?" the young baker asked quietly while packing his usual order. "Excuse me?" "Just… you always buy it." "Yeah. They don't stock it in the nearby supermarket anymore."
He left the bakery carrying the paper bag. He stopped at the entrance.
"Fuck it all," he muttered under his breath, fixing his collar. "I didn't finish uni and school to go do this every damn day… Pointless. I've had the same thought for seven or eight years… Stupid. I could work in a shop…" he thought.
––
The next day… the stairwell. The door. The lock that always stuck a bit. It jammed exactly the same. Elliot didn't even look at his hand — he already knew how much force to use.
The bus stop. The same bus. The same standing spot, because the seats were taken by some old grannies. An ad with a smiling family and a loan slogan — he read it in his head before his eyes actually landed on it.
Again.
At work his fingers typed on autopilot.
"Elliot?" someone said his name. He looked up at the exact same second as always. "Yeah?" he answered before he even understood the question. The boss smiled. The same smile. Same tone. Same as always… God, they're boring.
…
Elliot came back home.
He stripped off, showered, changed into house clothes, made tea and sat down in front of the TV.
Red. Too red for a regular "breaking." The presenter went quiet for a moment, as if someone had ripped all her rehearsed words out of her mouth. She glanced to the side at the producer, then back to the camera.
"We've received… confirmed reports from several astronomical observatories," she said slower than normal, unnaturally slow. "An object on a collision trajectory with Earth." She hesitated.
Elliot snorted a laugh. "They're scaring people again," he muttered, not taking his eyes off the screen.
The phone vibrated. WEA alert.
"The impact will occur in about twenty-eight hours," someone off-camera said. "We do not foresee an effective intervention."
Elliot stared at the screen like it was a hallucination. "What the fuck…?" he asked himself.
He went quiet…
…
Then he burst out laughing.
Elliot went out on the balcony.
He noticed an older man running without pants. "What the hell is his deal?" he asked himself with disgust, covering his eyes.
Then everyone went out onto their balconies.
"Hey, fucker, put yer pants on or I'll come over there and beat the shit out of ya so you'll dance for a week without music!" some bald guy shouted.
Later a granny joined in.
"Someone call the police!" she cried.
"Mom, what is that man doing?" asked a kid who came out on the balcony with his mom, and she quickly covered his eyes.
Finally the pantless man spoke…
"YOU'RE ALL STUPID! DID YA SEE THE ANNOUNCEMENTS?! THE WORLD IS ENDING, IDIOTS!!" he shouted, sweating and terrified. "I don't want to die without any risk!!" he yelled in frustration.
Elliot lit a cigarette.
"Ehhh… Chaos," he sighed.
Then something clicked for him.
"Why am I so calm…? I'll die soon…" he whispered, then burst out laughing again — so loud now everyone was watching him. "This is funny. I waited seven years for this to end, and now I feel cheated!!" he yelled, amused, sweat on his forehead.
––
Elliot turned on the kettle and took a tea bag from the box.
He dropped the bag into the mug, poured boiling water, then went back to his room, fired up his computer and sat down… completely calm.
"I don't have work tomorrow… The boss ran off to another country. What a dick." he told himself.
Suddenly a flash of thought hit him.
"If I don't have to get up tomorrow… then why even go to bed?"
Right then Elliot's phone buzzed.
The screen read "Alice."
Elliot looked at the phone and his eyes widened in surprise.
"What…? Why would she call now? I thought she wouldn't bother." he said, then declined the call.
––
Elliot sat on a bench in the park. People were running, someone even jumped off a block right in front of him… and he just sat, sipping coffee.
Suddenly someone familiar sat down next to him…
The person looked… ordinary. A beard, thick and even, like it was always just a day too long.
The stranger had dark hair, combed but not perfect — a few strands escaped as if he'd been rushing. He had a tired but calm, kind, grateful face. He wore a totally random shirt. A plain white shirt, a bit wrinkled, like taken off a chair, not a hanger. "Elliot? What are ya doing here?" he asked surprised.
Elliot looked up, his expression turning sheepish.
"Oh… Mark…" he said under his breath. "What am I doing? I want to see what the meteor will look like up close… It's my first and last chance, ya know?" he added.
"Ohh! You're wasting yer life, mate — ya should go talk to some pretty girl!" Mark said, slapping him on the head.
"Ouch…" Elliot grunted.
Mark sat down and lit a cigarette.
After a while of silence Mark finally spoke.
"Hey, you know I finally changed the router?" he asked.
Elliot looked at him for a second and then replied.
"Congrats… I was supposed to go to the dentist tomorrow… oh well."
"Not cool, not cool…" Mark answered flatly. "Hey… is there something you regret?" he asked seriously.
"Hmm… Meh, nah, I don't think so." Elliot answered bored.
"You definitely got somethin'! Come on!!" Mark suddenly yelled, excited.
"Alright, alright…" Elliot said, embarrassed, then paused to think. "I guess… I don't actually say what's going on with me, what I feel, and stuff. Even with Alice, who I trusted, I preferred listening over talking. I still have trouble saying things about myself… I feel like my problems are less worthy than others', like people would laugh at them." he added.
"Damn… heavy stuff," Mark replied, stunned.
"And you? What do you regret?" Elliot asked.
"I regret not spending more time with my family. I should've been with the kids more and with Karen."
"Shit… that's a shame."
Mark finished his cigarette, looking at the ground.
"You know… at the end what's left is whether someone really knew who ya were," he said calmly. "Karen knows everything about me. Even the stuff I'm ashamed of. And maybe that's why I feel a bit lighter."
Elliot fell silent.
"Does anyone… know you? Aside from Alice, of course," Mark asked.
"No." Elliot answered.
Mark shrugged. "If you've got even one more person… tell at least one person. That's enough. You'll feel lighter if you're hurting."
Elliot nodded.
Suddenly Mark's phone buzzed.
"I gotta run, my wife's calling!" Mark said, stretching and standing up. "Nice seeing ya, Elliot Bennett!" he waved, then hugged him so hard Elliot gasped.
"You squeeze hard!" Elliot commented, out of breath, until Mark let go.
––
Twenty-four hours until the meteor hit.
Elliot sat on the bench… in the same park, until she showed up…
…Alice.
She had delicate features. Her skin was pale as a corpse's… She had big brown eyes and hair that fell to her shoulders in a deep navy wave, thick and soft, with a straight fringe barely touching her brows. She wore a simple black necklace.
"Ohh." Elliot breathed, out of breath.
"You fucking coward! You ran away from talking to me… you're lucky I always find where ya are, otherwise I'd tear ya apart!" she shouted.
"Ya gotta start nagging right away…?" he asked rhetorically with a half-smile. "We haven't seen each other in a year… you're still rubbish."
"And you're still a bum… you look like a drunk, get yer shit together!" she fired back and bopped him on the back of the head.
"Better to be a bum than to be paranoid all the time… You can't come near me, yer banned from getting close for two years… and ya already broke it twice." he said disappointed.
"Nothing will happen to me now… I came to reminisce."
Elliot sighed.
"…Fine, say what ya wanna reminisce about."
"What a dumb way to put it, you talk like you got worms in yer ass again!"
"I'm gonna get outta here."
"…I wanted to apologize. For the insults about yer mum, for beating yer sister, for everything… Elliot. I love you."
Elliot pulled a face of disgust.
"You text me that like every six months, get a grip…" he said, pulling out a cigarette… But Alice snatched it from his hand and climbed on top of him.
"I'm serious, Elliot! Please…" she said in a cracking voice. "Come back to me…"
Elliot lifted his head and pushed her away slightly… then he snorted a laugh.
"No way."
"Come on Elliot!"
"No."
"Aghh! Should I tell ya what I think about ya? Shall I tell ya?!" she shouted, grabbing him by the collar.
"Go ahead."
"You're a fucking useless lazy shit, Elliot! 'I'm a nihilist, blah blah blah' You're a fucking slob! You can't be arsed to get off yer ass and go out because you're scared!"
"So what? What's yer problem in this… I'm the one who should worry about myself, not you."
Alice got up and started to walk away slowly.
"I've had enough of you… nothing's changed in seven years!"
"Stop." he ordered shortly, and Alice grinned from ear to ear.
"Ha! I knew I could count on ya… my dear Elliot!" she cried delightedly, clinging to him… and he didn't react at all.
"I got advice from a coworker… what was it? Uhh…" he thought, then a memory flashed. "Oh! I remember! Tell at least one person. That's enough. You'll feel lighter if you're hurting."
"What do ya wanna answer me?"
"Hmm… I think… I didn't want to live just to work. I wanted to live to enjoy it — food, people, women, friends… Not working myself like a rat."
"I can help ya with that if you want…" she said suddenly tender, looking into his eyes.
Elliot went silent.
He looked at her and kept looking… He shut himself inside his head.
"Okay." he said, dazed. "I'm a total idiot, I shouldn't agree to this! Aghh… I'm so thick." he thought.
Alice glanced at him sideways, her mouth stretching into something between triumph and self-admiration. "Alright Elliot. We've got one hour to do something together. Let's go explore the city!!"
Elliot stayed quiet for a moment… then finally nodded.
"Don't worry. I'll be nice, I never did anything to you, right?"
They headed toward the city's outskirts, Alice tugging his hand.
The streets were busier than usual.
More people on the sidewalks, small groups hanging by cigarette kiosks.
The first abandoned place they found was an old tenement with brick walls. Inside, the echo of their steps felt like a long-gone witness.
"Been here before?" Elliot asked, running his hand over rust on the railing.
"Never." Alice answered, sitting on a crate, breathing in and pulling out a packet of cigarettes. "Do ya think I look nice in this pose…?"
"I haven't the faintest idea." he replied, tired.
They walked through old corridors, touched dusty railings, climbed onto roofs where they could look over the city and corner shops.
"I want to apologize for being so cold when we were together…"
Alice rolled her eyes but her voice was gentle. "Ohh, ya should be!" she said with a giggle.
"I want to say something about myself before we die… maybe I'll start with that I like waking up early for the quiet. I like going out on the balcony and watching what's going on… it feels nice."
"Not bad!"
"Yup."
They left the tenement and finally… ended up at Alice's old school.
The gym was full of old equipment, mats on the walls, nets for basketball… Alice began running around the hall like warming up. Elliot watched her with a mix of contempt and admiration.
"I remember how good I was at P.E… The coach always had me lead warm-ups! I was great… still am."
"Congrats." he answered indifferently.
Then they found themselves in the woods. On the city's edge the trees stood close, blocking any view of the town. Alice led and Elliot followed.
"When I was little," Alice said suddenly, "I ran away to the woods with my brother and we'd fight with sticks… that's where I got the scar on my thigh. He jabbed a stick into my leg!!" she said smiling, eyes bright.
"Ouch." he replied with disgust on his face.
Alice made a face between offended and pleased. "Nice of ya to care… And you? What was yer relationship with yer sister before she and your mum got sick?"
"I was a closed-off kid, I didn't talk to them… I preferred studying and staying in my room."
They walked on until they reached a rise overlooking the city.
"Thanks," he blurted suddenly, surprising himself.
"For what?" Alice asked.
"For making the time with ya nice… I've no other friends… I didn't think you could make the vibe nice with me, even after everything."
"You're weird… I should be thanking you… these are my last minutes before my brain explodes from the inside!!" she declared excitedly.
A chill ran through Elliot.
"What…?" he asked confused.
Suddenly fireworks exploded.
"Look," Alice whispered, pointing at the biggest burst of color. "Looks like a pony shit itself in the sky!! Epic…"
Elliot turned his head to the sky and was briefly speechless. Midway through one of the booms Alice suddenly pulled a gun and put it to her temple.
Alice looked him in the eyes.
"I love ya Elliot, I love people in general… I wanted to take you out so I could die next to someone… Thank you." she said, and then… pulled the trigger.
Blood splattered across Elliot's face.
He stood there for a moment, stunned.
"…What the fuck…?" he muttered to himself, his eyes widening.
8 years earlier.
––
It was raining.
Elliot stood under the shelter at the bus stop, his back against the cold glass. He held a cup of coffee in his hand.
Then someone bumped into him with their shoulder.
"Oh shit," the girl said. "I'm sorry. Really!!"
The coffee spilled onto Elliot's hand, and he just sighed.
Elliot looked at her with little interest.
She had wet hair, dark and falling over her face, and a jacket two sizes too big.
"It's okay," he grunted. "I was already wet anyway. Nothing happened."
She looked at his cup.
"Is that coffee?" she asked.
"As you can see, it's coffee," he answered without interest.
The girl snorted a laugh, a little too loudly.
"Having a worse day?"
Elliot narrowed his eyes.
"No."
"If you do, I can change that," she said, holding out her hand.
He hesitated for a fraction of a second.
"No thanks…" he said. "You sell drugs and want to drag me somewhere…?" he asked, pity in his voice.
Alice laughed out loud.
"Haha! No, never… Unless you want, I could find something…"
"No thanks. I don't even drink… Occasionally I smoke."
"You're already addicted if you have to smoke sometimes. I openly admit I take whatever I can get… I'm tough."
"You're not. Sorry to be blunt but… you're stupid."
The bus didn't come. Two minutes passed. Then five.
---
Fireworks were exploding, and Elliot stood over Alice's dead body.
Seconds passed, minutes… and finally after ten minutes he walked away.
"Why don't I care…? She's dead, she can't be saved… Mark will die, his family, I will die… I'm not any kind of nihilist… I'm a loser! I'm a lazy loser! I explain my fear to myself with my made-up nihilism…! I'm just a scared loser!" he shouted with fury in his eyes.
"I'M A FUCKING COWARD!" he screamed in frustration.
"SHE DIED BECAUSE OF ME, I SHOULD BE THE ONE TO DIE, NO ONE ELSE!" he shouted again, and fell to his knees.
"I didn't want to live just to work, like some fucking bore! I wanted to live to be happy, not bored!" he said to himself, and collapsed onto the grass.
---
15 hours until the meteor.
Elliot sits in the hospital waiting room.
The hospital waiting room was almost empty. Elliot sat hunched, elbows on his knees, his hands stained with blood that he didn't even try to wash off anymore.
Disgusting… he thought. I'm disgusting…. My laziness is disgusting.
The ward doors closed somewhere down the hall.
Elliot pulled out his phone.
28 missed calls from Alice.
He hesitated. His finger trembled.
"…Of course," he muttered. "At least I met you before this."
He opened his contacts.
Mom.
For a moment he just stared at the name. Then he called.
"Elliot?" his mother's voice was breathless, chaos audible in the background. "What happened?"
"Nothing." Elliot laughed shortly. "I mean… In a few hours it'll be over for us, so I wanted to ask… Which room are you in at the hospital? Listen, I don't have much time."
"What? Where are you?"
"At the hospital."
Silence fell.
"Room 122. Tell Mr. Robert to show you the way," his mother answered.
---
The door to room 122 was ajar.
Elliot knocked once, and without waiting for an answer he pushed it gently and stepped inside.
His mother lay on the bed by the window. She was noticeably thinner than he remembered. Her skin tight, pale. Her hair short, graying at the temples.
She turned her head when she saw him.
"Elliot…" she said quietly.
"I told you I'd come, no need for pity," he replied, standing by the bed. His hands were in his pockets, as if he didn't know what to do with them.
For a moment they just looked at each other.
"You look bad," she said bluntly.
"You too," he replied equally plainly.
She smiled faintly. The same smile he remembered from childhood. He looked at her with disgust.
"Sit. I won't run away." She nodded toward the chair.
He sat. The chair creaked under his weight.
Silence settled.
"You know…" his mother began, clasping her hands. "I thought I'd die before the world."
"I thought so too," he answered after a moment.
"I know." She nodded.
Elliot swallowed.
"I'm not a very open person. I remember, out of fear of Dad, I wrote something… I recited it at a school assembly you slept through. 'I love Jelonki because they don't push themselves into the light, yet the world always notices them. They hide in the shadow, but they have more courage than those who shout the loudest.' I remember my sister helped me."
"Wow," she said, surprised.
He fell silent. He stared at the floor.
"Before I go and we all die… I wanted to thank you for paying half the rent for me all these years, even though I hardly ever showed up here."
"You don't have to thank me for such small things."
"It was nice knowing you."
"Likewise."
---
The sky was strangely bright.
Sirens wailed. People stood in the streets, looking up; some prayed, others screamed, others recorded everything on their phones.
A sudden message appeared on the huge screen in the square.
"CONFIRMED: THE OBJECT HAS BEEN DESTROYED.
PLANETARY DEFENSE SYSTEM ACTIVATED.
MOST FRAGMENTS WILL BURN UP IN THE ATMOSPHERE."
The crowd erupted in screams. People cried with relief. They hugged. Someone knelt.
"We're alive!" someone shouted. "FUCK, WE'RE ALIVE!"
Elliot stood motionless.
"…Of course," he said quietly. "Sure, of course."
He looked at his phone.
A notification from work. Back to normal tomorrow. Please be punctual.
Alarm clock. Work.
Elliot lifted his head.
And then he saw it.
A small fragment. Too small to be a problem for the world. Too big to ignore physics.
It fell quietly. Without a dramatic bang. Without fanfare.
Perfectly.
"Wow… I'm so fucking unlucky. My legs are weak, I can't move… I'm terrified." Elliot smiled broadly.
"Irony does have a sense of humor."
He stood straight, looking at the sky.
The impact was brief.