I didn't see the end of the world. But it ended. I know it; I feel it in my bones.
It was dark and I felt afraid. The night came and if you looked up you'd see no stars, just the black clouds in the sky. There was no one on the streets, all lights were out and there was no sound to be heard. I was all alone and cold - oh, the cold that night has brought me, I could feel it freezing my insides - and I wandered for hours, maybe days - it was night for so long that I lost track of time - through the woods and into nowhere.
Hungry and tired, I finally decided to go back home. I was lost and I saw monsters in the dark. I remember drinking a glass of cold water, the weight of a sword in my hand and the taste of blood on my lips and tongue. Then, I was on my bed, lying naked staring at the ceiling and scenting the ferrous fragrance of dry blood. Every bit of my body ached and there was an agonizing pain on my chest. I was staring up, but I couldn't see nothing, only dark. I didn't know if my eyes were opened or closed. I took my hands to my face and ran them through my eyes - they were open. They were open and I couldn't see anything.
I turned on my side and closed my eyes. Then, the faint sound of a tender song reached my ears - I opened up my eyes, but the song stopped, so I closed them again, and again that sound came. It grew louder and, in the end, I remembered the song: Happiness. As happiness played, softly dancing in my mind, with my shut eyes I saw the full moon floating in the gloominess. It whispered me a colorful dream that warmed me up through the night and the cold was gone.
Even though I was surrounded in the bliss of a dream in colors, I could feel that the world was ending outside in the meantime. I felt storms, with rain and thunders and fire and hurricanes destroying everything but me. But all that was muffled by the sound of happiness. When I unfolded my eyelids, a new day had been born. The sun shone in the horizon, but different from before. Everything was ashes; everything seemed painted black and white, except the blue sky. But I was dreaming still.
I woke up suddenly and it was still dark, it was still night. I peeked throughout the window and everything was burning, everything was destruction. But if you looked up you'd see no clouds in the sky, only a great white shining spot and its bright light illuminating the beauty of the end of the world.
Everything was gone, but there was the moon still.
Pedro Simão Mendes