This Is Where It Ends

by Marieke Nijkamp

So we run. Not just in circles around the track. We run toward all that is waiting for us. We run together while we still can.

The only things that give us purpose are the stories that tie us together.

Fear and survival are two sides of the same coin.

Terror is our strongest force because we’re only afraid when we have something to lose—our lives, our loves…our dignity.

This isn’t about returning fire or self-defense. This is about revenge. If this guy hurt my sister or anyone else, I’ll kill him. Slowly.

The only two people who matter now are in front of me—the boy who broke me and the girl who put me back together. I will not let him take her away from me again.

A shout swells through the parents, press, police, and I turn, almost missing his next words: “I’m so terrified to lose you.”

If she dies, I will never be able to tell her that she is the one who keeps me standing. That her lips taste like a promise. That she makes me want to be a better version of myself. If she dies, I will believe every ugly word Dad ever said about me.

there were two types of people in this world: those who belong to the soil and the good, rich earth, planting their seeds to blossom, and those who belong to the road and the endless horizons, carrying their home on their shoulders wherever they go.

Life turned Autumn into one of the wandering, and she was becoming restless.

“Autumn?” “Yes?” “I’m so tired.”

This is the first thing that has felt right all day. “Don’t ever leave me,” I whisper. “Not in a thousand years.” His words are warm on my skin. He leans in and kisses me again as if the world were ending. And actually, it has.

“And no one will ever catch me. Not even death.”

A current passes through the crowd with the news of each survivor. Relief and sorrow follow each other rapidly, because with the names of those who live comes the void of those who have not. Death brings life; life brings death. There are no words in that fleeting moment between hope and the knowledge. There is no way to express how a heart can burst and break at the same time, how the sun can cut through the darkness but will cast shadows everywhere.

You can’t always keep your loved ones with you. You can’t always settle your life in one place. The world was made to change. But as long as you cherish the memories and make new ones along on the way, no matter where you are, you’ll always be at home.”

The last thing I hear is Ty saying, “I just don’t want to be alone anymore.” Then he blows his brains out.

We don’t belong to the rich, good earth, and we don’t belong to the horizons. We are tied to Opportunity, and maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. We plant our seeds here to take root and blossom.

“We are not better because we survived. We are not brighter or more deserving. We are not stronger. But we are here. We are here, and this day will never leave us. Nor should it. We will remember the wounded. We will remember the lost.”

“We will remember the thirty-nine tonight. We will remember them tomorrow. We will remember them for all our tomorrows. And there will be many tomorrows; there’ll be thousands of them. So let’s make them good ones. We are Opportunity, and we will not be afraid. We are Opportunity, and we will live.”

The lantern gently tugs upward. It’s warm enough, ready to be released. I hold on for one more moment. Then, around me, other lanterns are released. They float over our heads into the darkness, toward the promise of a new day. I take a deep breath and caress the rice paper between thumb and finger. And I let go.