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You know those dreams you have about the end of the world?
You do a double-take in the morning then laugh about it later.
I will now tell you that it is no laughing matter.
And it’s not a dream.
It’s a nightmare.
One that should have never come true.
But I guess it’s a little too late for that.
Darkness enveloped the sky like a cape.
Explosions only made up about half the noise.
The other half were people’s screams of desperation.
Children’s screams.
Piercing your ears,
No matter how hard you tried to block them out.
Then, there was me.
In the center of it all.
Holding my breath.
Hoping . . . 
Praying that it was all just a very disturbing dream.
Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.
There was some kind of presence around us.
And no, it wasn’t God.
It was the complete and utter opposite.
It was the devil.
Wreaking havoc upon our not-so-innocent world.
I stared as buildings came crippling down.
I wished one of them would just collapse on me.
I wished I could just end this world of terror I had stepped into.
But no, the dead were the lucky ones.
The rest of us got to watch as the earth went up in flames.
I turned in time to see a huge black cloud hurdling toward me.
And only me.
I considered running for my life,
But I couldn’t move.
I wouldn’t.
I wanted my part in this to end.
I watched as the massive demon flew through me and took my life with it.
I fell to the ground.
A crying woman rushed over to me and looked me in the eyes.
The eyes that could no longer see.
She placed her hand upon my chest and frantically felt for a heartbeat.
For some sign of life.
For some sign of hope.
Yet, nothing was there except a heart that couldn’t love anymore.
Nothing was there but a big mess of death and lost hope on judgment day.

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