Before the End [FFM 29]

She walked between lines of graves, a bouquet of flowers in her arms. Marigold, his favorite. As she got closer to his final resting place, she spotted an familiar figure standing there. Dan, his BFF. She had been sort of avoiding him since the funeral in August. There was no point to it now. He waved at her and she nodded, walking up to the grave.

“Hey there,” he greeted with that usual warm smile. A ridiculous yellow beard was printed on his shirt.

“Hey,” she replied. That was all she needed to say.

“It has been a month, huh,” he regarded his friend’s grave, hands inside his jacket pockets.

“Twenty-five days,” she corrected, putting down the bouquet.

“Flowers on his grave? He would think that they’re too sappy,” Dan stated.

“I know. They are for me,” she cleaned some of the shriveled leaves on the grave. “The dead can not feel. Offerings are meant to comfort the livings.”

“Perhaps,” Dan breathed on his hands to warm them up, “but I like to think that our loved ones are rooting for us in the afterlife.”

“If that helps you sleep at night,” the brittle grass crinkled under her jeans.

“What about you? What helps you sleep at night?” he asked.

“Does it look like I can sleep lately?”

He looked at the shadows under her empty eyes. “I guess not,” he shrugged.

They watched over the grave in silence for a moment, before she continued.

“How can you sleep at night, knowing that you will die soon?” she crossed her arms.

He studied in the wrinkles between her eyebrows and the trembling on her lips. “I have something I believe in,” he replied, pointing upward.

She glanced up at the crimson sky. “I don’t. I don’t believe in God, anymore.” Her fingers curled up over her chest. “I don’t even believe in myself.”

“Then, believe that I believe in you,” he put a hand on her shoulder. “The world might be ending soon, but I will show those bastards my best and final performance before that happens. I’d love to have your help, but I’m not going to force you into it.”

She stood up and dusted her knees. She did not wipe away her tears. They had all been dried up a long time ago.

“Don’t think you can be the tragic hero without me,” she patted him on the back. “Let’s go save the world together.”