"The planet's going to hell, son. Just makin' the trip shorter than it needs to be."

Those were the last words my father spoke to me, just before his brains were splattered across the walls by the pull of a trigger. Boom. Just like that. One quick reflex of the finger, a sharp noise, and there went a life and all the gore involved.

He was right, though. The planet was going to hell, even before the literal one descended onto it. All because of some ten mile wide rock that decided to aim its trajectory towards Earth. I remember the day vividly, just like everyone else in the town, the country, the whole world should. A gloomy looking news reporter, one that looked like he had the world settled on his suit-covered shoulders, informing the nation of our new fate. Everything was to be obliterated, the impact theorized to be too great to survive. There was no hope, no escape, only six days to live. We just had to accept it right there and now.

Six days. Good ol' dad didn't even last two.

People panicked. Some ran the streets, having gone crazed from the revelation. Others looted stores, took what they want, killed who they want, even killed themselves. Suicide and murder were everywhere. Buildings burned, people died, all hell was broken loose. There were rants of the Apocalypse, Judgment Day, the End of Times, and any other cultural end of the world you could think of.

There wasn't any holding of hands and singing of kumbaya, no peaceful acceptance of the world's fate, just havoc. Chaos. Utter loss of civilized decisions and morals.

While people raged through the streets, and after my father took his life, I left. Took the car, maneuvered my way through the town before some nut decided to stop me, and headed to the coast. Just left the corpse of my cowardly father behind and hit the road. I could care less anymore for him or the freaked induced town.

The radio was on most of the time as I traveled down the mostly barren roads, breaking any sort of speed laws that had been placed on them. There were reports of violence and a leap in crime, which I only replied with "No way, dipshit." Stories of how there would be attempts to stop the incoming rock of destruction, and how they were all failing. The president mysteriously disappearing. The military shooting down mobs of angry people storming the streets of the capitol.

Strangely enough, none of this surprised me. It was almost expected to me for the human race to fall apart in its last moments of existence. I don't care how many movies there are of people working together to stop whatever force that plots against us, or coming to peace with themselves before the final minutes. Only disorder all around.

The sixth and final day has come, and I haven't interacted with a single soul. No point. Dad was the last of my known relatives, and it was rare for me to make a friend back home. Might as well keep to myself and avoid letting the panic consume me as well.

I park the car carelessly in a familiar spot, the road having led through a massive forest of trees, leading right up to the rocky shore of the ocean. I stepped out, hopped over the guard rail, and began to descend the jagged stones. This was the only place I could actually call a childhood spot, having been brought here when my mother was still alive, years ago.

The sky was clear, a salty wind blowing in from the ocean. The sun was setting in the distance, making the wavy water appear a bright orange. Waves crashed onto the thin strip of sand below, even a few seagulls flying by or traversing the beach, oblivious to the troubles of the world and their own incoming deaths.

I eventually made it to the sand myself, the rocks having been slippery and unforgiving, but there wasn't a scratch on me, plopping down onto the soft beach and leaning back, my arms holding me up. The scene felt almost too peaceful and nostalgic for me, and within seconds, I was on the verge of leaving. I forced myself to stay, though. There was no point of turning back now. I'd rather see the end of the world myself.

I sighed, thinking of all that had brought me full circle to this spot. This small strip of beach was my earliest memory, and now would be my last. Strange how things turn out sometimes, don't you think? Yet I did not feel saddened that it would be the final spot my young eyes would lay on, but somewhat glad. This place held actual good to me, warm memories of long lost times. It was almost fitting I would die here.

And finally, at this very point, I could say I felt acceptance of what was about to happen. Probably one of the few on the whole planet who could say the same right now. I don't care anymore how my life was about to be cut off short, of how little I actually managed to experience, or even all the shit I've dealt with. I'm going to sit here and die. Simple as that.

A streak of light, one so fast I barely catch it as it screams through the sky, descending to the horizon before me. Then a sharp rumble, signaling the delayed sign of the projectile's entry into the atmosphere. I couldn't see the actual impact, but the rumble in the earth beneath gave me the rock's warning of its arrival.

So this is it. Not even maybe a minute ago. Time to face it.

I push myself slowly to my feet, watching as the white birds that had been strewn across the beach flap into the air noisily and head for the forest. I face the horizon, the setting sun, and the water, my body not stiff and prepared, but more relaxed and patient.

All is quiet. Even the wind has seemed as if it's stopped. I take a deep breath, enjoying my final breaths while they lasted.

The sun began to grow dark… darker and darker until its orange glow was dull. Soon, it vanished completely, but was replaced with a new light. The Earth itself was raging towards me, glowing hot and furiously, blotting out everything, even the sky. The air became hot, the ground shook, and I saw the ocean itself being sucked away.

I closed my eyes, felt a new scorching wind blast by me, felt the heat and size of the approaching wave of molten rock, then everything…. black.