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By: Ayah Abdul-Rauf

Can you believe that? Absolutely impossible. The world ended three months ago. But if you think that’s why I’m in denial, you’re wrong. I simply can’t believe that a guy like that can even exist...

Okay, let me explain. After the world ended and all, (something to do with nuclear bombs, I don’t really care)... there were a bunch of survivors, and a lot of them were hurt (of course). So now it’s time for the REAL smart ones to actually take a stand and they’ve rounded up a horde o’ people and told them to go around curing everybody. Luckily, I’m not hurt. I forgot what country we’re on now, I just saw someone die, but aside from coming very close to going psychotic, I’m not hurt.

Or maybe it’s not so lucky. See, there’s this guy, he’s one of the people helping everyone and acting like a doctor, and you can tell that he’s quickly adapted to his environment. He’s already found his own sword to strap to his back-, and I have no idea how an oversized blade could manage to pull through a nuclear war thingy-, but that’s not the point. Maybe he wears it for protection; maybe he wears it to emphasize his striking good looks. I dunno.

Anyway, he’s also got these big black boots that probably weigh a ton each, and they’ve got those little belts on ’em like you only see hot guys wear in movies when they’re about to jump on a big black horse or rescue somebody or other. He’s not short on strength, either. I know this may seem a little rude, but I couldn’t help notice that he’s worked up quite a few layers of muscle that make him look like everything he does takes a lot of energy.

If you’re thinking he’s just some big oaf, you’re wrong on that, too. He’s got intelligent dark eyes and these eyebrows that always have one hard expression, which just goes to show you that he’s always busy, working, trying to stay on top of things just to help out other people. I’ve never seen him sit down, really! He’s always running, or standing, or talking-, did I mention his voice? It’s no squeak tube. He sounds like one of those guys from an action movie, and I’d give you an example, only I don’t like playing with copyright law, even if the world did in fact end.

I always get nervous about recopying any logo...

He’s got a pretty sweet tan, too, but not one of those fakey fake tans where some guy pays a thousand bucks or something just to get a few lame girls on him. This is one of those natural tans you get from working out in the sun all day, which I know he does, because the sun is getting real close to the earth-, (not that I even pretend to worry about all that global warming junk. It’s too late now).

Statistically speaking, he is probably one of the last males in existence. But if someone were to ask me what the last several males in existence would look like, I would never have guessed that this hunk would be one of them. I mean, he’s the manliest manly masculine young man I’ve ever seen in my whole life!!! He is the definition of the word: MALE.

Okay, well here’s the catch. (Yes, there always has to be a catch.) He doesn’t even know I exist. And if you think that’s bad, wait till you hear this:

I DON’T KNOW HIS NAME.

Yes, yup, yuppers, indeed, yap, that’s right. I DON’T KNOW HIS NAME.

I’ve made several guesses, though I’d rather not write them down cuz I’d sound ridiculous, and I can’t spell most of the names anyway.

So now I’m thinking, if it’s possible for the world to end, is it possible that he actually came from an unknown land where they breed beautiful guys so girls like me can analyze his every lovely feature???

Okay, now I AM ridiculous...So if you think this short little story writing piece type thing is about the end of the world, it’s not. It’s about me trying to survive by restraining myself every time that beauty walks past. I just wish he’d give me a break!

So here’s a better description of what’s happening: (I think it’s important to write all this down, right? It is, after all, the end of the world...)

The land here is coarse, not fresh, and every once in a while you see a big hill of dirt that I suppose was just kinda swept upward by the force of whatever and it makes it real hard to get around. It’s really wet here, too, cuz all the water from the oceans, I suppose, just went SWISH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And now the earth is really wet...

In case you haven’t noticed, my writing is getting all choppy cuz that GUY is now walking past me to get his PACKAGES which are probably so BIG and HEAVY that only HE can carry them coz he’s got all that MUSCLE...

You know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking that maybe he’d notice me if I hurt myself... his job is to cure people, right? No way, I’m not that pathetic! Not trying to be arrogant or anything, but I’m not that bad looking myself. And I’m smart, unlike them other cheap girls with too much make-up. They’re a dime a dozen.

Most of those girls are dead, now...

If he doesn’t notice me of his own accord, then that’s his loss. Still, as he walks past me to get some more packages, I can’t help but think that he really is better looking than I am. But I’m not pathetic. Hurting yourself is stupid. Besides, I can’t busy myself with being in love!!!! I’m busy with other things, like how I’m going to survive, or why my best friend died in the war, or how I can possibly write like everything’s fine and dandy when really the world has ended??!?

There must be a God out there somewhere.

It’s the next day. I can never pretend that what just happened didn’t happen.

Last night I was scouting around carrying nothing but my canvas bag, (which is all I have, anyway.) I was really hungry, and hadn’t found anything to eat. I was thinking solely about food. Did I mention that there were cannibals out here? It wasn’t safe, especially not at night. I’d rather die than eat another human, but on a certain note, I couldn’t blame them.

There are robbers out here, too. People had nothing. I had left the reservation area where I could do my writing, so it was dangerous. I shouldn’t have brought my bag. Any robber could tell I was one of the lucky ones. It was late evening, but they could still see me. I had been worried about getting mugged for hours, and I would have gone back, but I couldn’t find my way.

I was doing my best not to panic, cuz I knew that wouldn’t help. I was walking a little faster with my head held high, my way of telling all them robbers to back off. It was really hard to keep walking that way on an empty stomach, and I was trying not to think about the darkness and the hunger and the fear and the fact that all my relatives and friends were dead, which I must admit I had been doing a pretty good job of until that point.

Now this is the most scary and beautiful thing that ever happend to me. As I’m walking, I start to hear heavy footsteps behind me. I don’t turn around because I didn’t want to attract any attention, and you couldn’t see much in that dark, anyway. But the footsteps are getting louder and louder and next thing I know I’m pumping my legs as fast as I can to get away from whoever’s behind me, which still isn’t very fast because I’m starving so bad that I’m thinking of food even as I run, and I’m thinking that the person behind me is gunna eat me cuz they must be hungry, too, and then physics takes its toll...

I trip. I fall.

Terror is pumping through my veins and I scream as I feel some guy pull me up by my arm and I try to pull away but he’s strong. He grabs my other arm and turns me around. I opened my eyes and stopped screaming.

It was the GUY.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, “but you’re not supposed to be out this late. Don’t you know it’s dangerous?”

I try to stop concentrating on how close I am to his face and the fact that he hasn’t let go of me yet so I can answer.

“I was hungry...” I tell him in a small voice, feeling really embarrassed cuz now there are tears leaking out of my eyes.

“It’s okay,” he says, and lets go of one of my arms to pick up my bag (which I had dropped, of course), and swings it up onto his shoulder. “I’ll get you some food...”

But then he pauses, staring at the ground. I look down, too, and see what he sees. There was a small green plant where my bag had fallen. Small, green, but alive. Alive in this wasteland. This little green plant was hope.

He smiles, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him smile. It’s a beautiful smile, because I can tell he only saves it for special occasions. Then he looks at me, and he’s still smiling. He takes my hand and leads me back to a safer place and I can tell things are going to get better. He’s had losses just like me.

Now if you think this is just some sissy little tale about an overemotional girl who thinks that the only way for her to be safe from herself is for some perfect guy to come along and turn her world upside down, (which is impossible, of course, because a perfect guy would never like a dangerous girl), then you are dead wrong.

It’s just a story to tell that eventually, those weird fairy tale dreams can come true, even if the world has to end first.