The End

A pulsating pain radiated through my stomach. I doubled over, clutching my midsection, then forced my head up, eyes darting around for a possible escape.

A flicker of neon caught my attention—an ugly, blocky sign that read Convenience. The irony not lost on me as I rounded the corner, silently praying to every god I knew that the place would still be open

Closed.

Panic streaked through my mind. I was about to give birth. Two burritos and a bag of chips seemed to be using my intestine as a race track. Would I have to soil my pants? No, I resolutely refused to ruin another pair of perfectly good underwear.

Profusely sweating, with my poop turtling in and out of my asshole, I circled the store as I clenched with all my might. Each second felt as if it could be the last.

But I held on. I persisted. And then, through the haze of my suffering, I saw a glimmer of hope—an open window leading to the bathroom.

With a deep breath, I told myself this was all or nothing. I stepped onto a dirty box just outside the window. Then, having never done a single pull-up—I summoned the strength of my entire future, hoisting myself up and through the window in a single swift motion.

Everything almost ended right then and there. I clenched every muscle in my frail body to prevent the escape of the prisoners I had jailed in my poor body. Pulling my leg up, I stepped onto the ledge and hopped into the bathroom. With a speed rivaling that of the Flash himself, I ripped my pants off and plopped myself down on the toilet. Breathing a sigh of relief, I dropped a nuke that i’m certain alerted the United Nations.

As a I sat on the porcelain throne contemplating my life choice, a strange realization crept over me—I had no memory of how I’d gotten there. Before the gut-wrenching pain hit, what was I doing? Where was I heading? And who was I with?

Just then, a heavy knock came at the door. I jolted upright, frozen like a deer caught in headlights. Was there someone here? A manager perhaps? Had I been caught? I stayed silent, hoping whoever it was would think I was just some raccoon pillaging the bathroom trash.

The knock came again.

And again.

Louder, and louder.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“ONE SECOND”, I yelled.

The door swung open. My whole body froze as the outside chilled winter air assaulted me in my compromised position. A surge of panic jolted my brain as I reflexively covered my inadequate privates. Stunned, I prepared to yell at whoever had the audacity to take a peek at the goods.

But as I came to my senses and got a good look at the perpetrator, every nerve in my body took a sigh of relief. In the doorway stood a familiar, smiling face—that of my little brother Max.

“Max! Can’t you let me finish shitting in peace?”

Max giggled.

“Drew come on, you’re taking forever. We gotta go!”

“Okay okay, close the door I’ll be right out”. I sighed as I pulled up my pants and quickly washed my hands.

I exited the bathroom and started to walk out with Max. Now that my body and mind were no longer in emergency mode, I shifted my attention back to the present, once against realizing that I seemed to have forgotten the time and place.

“Wait Max. Where are we?

Max swung his head around, paused and stared at me with twinge of sadness in his eyes.

“We’re on a trip, but you ran off track. We have to get back”

Trip? I racked my brain but couldn’t seem to remember what trip we were supposedly on.

“What trip? Where’s Mom and Dad?

Max didn’t answer. Instead, he ever so slightly picked up the pace. I watched as his irregularly shaped hair whorl bounced up and down ahead of me. In that moment, a wave of complicated emotions washed over me. A sense of nostalgia? Foreboding? Sorrow? I couldn’t understand what I was feeling—just a yearning for the past and a fear of the future.

Just then, like a movie reel from the 1950’s, a series of horrendous images played through my mind.

Smoke. Blood. A light blue Dodge Texan, completely crushed and on fire. A limp lifeless body, hanging out the window.

I stopped cold in my tracks.

“Who are you??”, I demanded shakily.

Max turned around, looking confused.

“Did you hit your head, Drew? What’s wrong with you? I’m Max, your younger brother.”

I stumbled back, nerves buzzing. I had seen far too many horror movies at this point to let myself become the idiot the audience screams at.

“Max is dead. He died three years ago. I remember it now. So again, who are you???”. I attempted to speak with confidence and authority, but had I not emptied the race track earlier—this pair of underwear would have certainly been a goner as well.

Expecting a creepy smile and possibly an exaggerated removal of a face mask revealing some sort of twisted serial killer, I put on all my weight on my back foot, ready to sprint away like the prey that I was.

Instead, Max’s face softened. His soft, round boba-like eyes started to distort as it filled with tears. He ran at me gave me a tight hug. His soft head reached barely above my belly button.

My body relaxed, but my mind remained racing in a state of confusion.

“W-w-what’s going on…” I stuttered.

Max pulled back and looked up at me, face streaming with tears.

“Yes, I died 3 years ago. I’ve missed you so much Drew.”

As I stared at Max, I understood. His soul had come to me. Welling up myself, I embraced him tightly in return.

“I’ve missed you so much Max. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you that night. I wish it had been me.” I meant every word as tears fell from face and onto his.

Both of us rubbing away the tears, we laughed. After a few soft chuckles and a slightly awkward silence, we got to reminiscing.

“Hey, remember when you stole my Pokemon gameboy cartridge and kept it for months without telling me?”, Max teased.

I scoffed. “Please, you were taking forever with it and Dad bought that game for the both of us”, I retorted.

Max laughed. “Yeah, but then you got stuck on the fifth gym and refused to hand it back. You lost like a hundred times. Gosh, you can be so stubborn”

I looked to the side with embarrassment, smiling to myself.

We continued to walk, reminiscing over the past—laughing and crying as if wading through a dream. Eventually, we made it over the hill and saw a peculiar sight.

In the dark night, a bright rainbow road made its way through the valley and off into the distance. As if breaking the spell of the isolated world we existed in, thousands of people walked single file along the road.

At that moment, my memories came flooding back and I understood. Panic started to surge through my veins as my stomach began cramping all over again.

I looked at Max and saw he was already staring at me with tears once again filling his eyes.

I turned to run.

“I need to go back to the bathroom”, I exclaimed.

Max grabbed my arm and shook his head.

“It’s time to go Drew”, he said softly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be scared. I went through this three years ago, it’s time to let go.”

My tears returned as his words sank in. I was too young. There was so much I wanted to do in life, how could this happen? I collapsed to the ground and sat there in a stunned silence.

Max sat beside me and put his head on my shoulder, not saying a word.

I watched as endless streams of people drifted past us.

An elderly couple walked hand in hand, laughing softly at the shared stories only they understood. A man in a business suit repetitively snuck glances at his watch, his hurried step having yet to understand the lack of urgency of his current situation. And further back, stood a small girl, too young to understand what had happened. Six or seven years old, she was no older than Max when he died.

The knot in my stomach twisted into a sea of sadness. My chest tightened. Life was so impossibly unfair. So many people had their lives cut short, their story ripped at the seams.

But as I watched them—every story, every fear, every acceptance—I finally understood what it meant to appreciate the life I had lived rather than lament the future I had lost.

I stood up and lent Max a hand. With a deep breath, we took a step forward into the afterlife.