A/N: I wanted to write something. Something end-of-the-world. So here it is. R&R!

When the sky turned white, I knew there was something wrong.

It doesn't sound very good, starting a story with the end of the world. Although I've always found those sorts of stories interesting. I never thought it would happen to me, though. I mean, it's ridiculous, that I would just happen to be alive at the end. It's unthought of, for me. I always thought that it was going to happen to a bunch of my unnamable descendants. That there would be a lot of screaming and running around in vain, and falling to knees to pray. And perhaps a few signs beforehand.

On the morning that the Earth died, everything was quiet and normal. Everything had been normal for the past billion years, probably more, and so why should anything change? But if there were signs, they went unnoticed. I just woke up to find my mother dead in the process of cooking scrambled eggs, and my little brother slumped on the floor. I guessed that his last thoughts were probably of how good that the egg was going to taste, and it made me cry, because I knew that he would never, ever get to eat that egg, not ever. It felt like the whole of eternity was before me and I suddenly knew that he would never see it. He didn't even get to brush the edges of this strange, fantastic feeling, because he was dead. The word echoed in my mind.

When I went outside everyone else was dead too. It occurred to me to wonder whether any of the world leaders had done anything before they died. Did they know about this? Had they tried, in vain, to warn us, or were they all caught unawares? Were they dead? What about the Queen of England? Had all those songs actually saved her in the end? It was quiet. I felt like a ghost, or like I was in a dream. The thought that eternity was stretching out in front of me like a road kept coming back to me, and so I walked down the road of our street, dressed in grubby blue Saturday jeans and a black singlet. I didn't have any shoes on but it didn't matter any more.

I wandered down that road until it reached the school. I sat on a swing and watched as a line of red raced across the sky. I cried silently because I knew that this was the end. I was going to die. My heart thudded and my throat felt constricted as I held back the sobs. I didn't want to disturb the unearthly silence.

When the fire burned through me I let out a great gasp of despair. I closed my eyes but the light still burned through my eyelids. My body seared with heat then tingled then faded into nothing until all I had left was my mind, and even then I wasn't sure if it was completely intact. This was the stuff that happened in books or movies or video games when you failed to save the world. Not when you wake up on a Saturday morning, with the promise of eggs for breakfast, and the belief that when you finally swung your feet over the bed, today would be normal. I still don't know why I was the last one. Or even if I was.