Sometimes, I look out my window and believe that the world is ending. I hear sirens, and I hear dogs howling with the sirens, and I close my eyes and think, "This is it." I imagine that those sirens are all heading to some catastrophic event. I can almost hear the dispatchers trying to remain calm as they relay details to officers sweating in the drivers' seats, whispering, "Dear God…"

It doesn't frighten me. I usually let the curtains fall back into place and walk away to go lie down. I close my eyes in complete darkness, and if I feel anything at all, it's relief. I feel relieved that no one I love will feel any more pain. I feel relieved that my sins won't be passed down to my children, my grandchildren. But most of all, I feel relieved that I don't have to fight anymore. I can finally rest.

Shadows press in on me as I lie there, still and silent. The dark is comforting, most likely because it is familiar to me. I remember fearing it at one point, just as I feared the end of the world. Both fears have since died, and I welcome the dark as an old friend. There was a time when I believed the dark wanted to claim me, but I'm wiser than that now. Darkness does not claim humanity; humanity claims darkness. There is a darkness in all of us, and we choose whether or not to nurture it.

And that is why I am not afraid. If the world grows too dark, it will undoubtedly end. If that time of darkness is now, so be it. I am ready.

When I'm in the dark, sometimes I place my hand on my chest, just to feel my heartbeat. Sometimes, that's the only way I know for sure that I am alive. I breathe slowly, taking deep breaths. I fill my lungs till they can't hold anymore, and then I let the air spill out into the shadows, marking this darkness as my own. I can hear cars passing by on the street, tires crunching and spitting away gravel that has strayed onto the pavement.

I knew all along that the world wasn't ending. To be honest, I don't even believe the end will come during my time. Sometimes, it's just easier to imagine the end than to imagine the uncertainty of another tomorrow.