“The asteroids are coming, everyone, the asteroids are coming. We’re sorry to bring you this horrific news, but it looks like we have about 7 minutes until our entire earth will fail. Some of us will be hit by the asteroids themselves, while others will get blanketed by darkness due to dust and debris, power outages, fires, I don’t even know what. Ya’ll, I wish I could be with my family right now, but instead it looks like I’m spending the next 6.5 minutes staring into this camera trying to be that calming voice as we all get blasted into the underworld. This is Ashleigh from Channel 9 News, and yes, it’s the end of the world as we know it.”
Ashleigh turned to look out the window at the darkening skies. She took in a couple deep breaths and pushed down a panic attack. Maybe the world wouldn’t end. Maybe it was just one of those things scientists got wrong. They got things wrong all the time, right? I mean, no, they really didn’t. She had been reading stories to her viewers for months about the global changes and projections for a large pack of asteroids seemingly coming toward our planet. They’d been right about the weird weather patterns, and the civil unrest, and now here it was, the last day on earth and she was sitting at the news stationed wearing a bright yellow suit jacket, her hair teased and curled like a Texas pageant queen.
News station. The realization of where she was and the camera’s green light reminding her the greater San Antonio area was watching snapped her out of her panic. They counted on her.
“Let’s do this, ya’ll,” she said, showing her heavily whitened teeth. “Let’s think of one last song to play, like one greatest end of the world jam.” She grabbed her phone and opened the news channel’s social media profile. “Post with me, friends, what song should be the very last song we hear before the world goes down in flames?”
The notifications started chiming in, many literally asking for end of the world titles. Some people wanted Britney Spears, or the Beatles, or Taylor Swift. They posted about their wedding songs and the songs they turned on when they were first dating their true loves. Their heartbreak songs. Their angst songs.
“We have 5 minutes left, world. Let’s see, maybe we should play something classic? Like an old country song? Reba? Clint? Dollie? It looks like Tallahassee from Cibolo is listening to Paint it Black by the Doors. Oh, Vanessa Carlton’s cover edition. Interesting choice from an interesting name, Tallahassee. No shame on the last day of life, girl.”
Ashleigh stole a glance out the window again, and then at the clock. She answered a couple of texts from her parents and siblings, saying she loved them and would hopefully see them in another life. She sent a message to her ex, telling him to go to hell.
She laughed at herself and then cleared her throat, remembering the camera.
“Denise is listening to Blink 182, and Carla has our favorite girl Selena on. Oh, Carla, what a wonderful choice. RIP Selena. Gone too soon. Though honestly, what the hell does it matter, because we’re all going right along with her. Friends, we have 3 more minutes. Did we pick the best one yet? Steve wants us to play Flo-rida, but we’re not gonna do that, are we Steve? We have some self respect, yeah? I know I said no shame, but we can do better.”
She continued to scroll through the posts, looking up at the clock, at her boss, and at the window, alternating a few seconds at each before moving onto the next. She thought again about her ex, and checked her messages, seeing he’d written her back: “I was in hell for 3 years, bitch.” Oh, she missed him so much. Why did he have to leave her when she loved him so much? She started to reply, when her boss yelled her name, motioning to keep rolling.
“Well, we’re down to about 2 minutes ya’ll, and we still don’t have a perfect song to play. A LOT of ya’ll are saying to play the latest Beyonce song, which I would agree is an absolute solid choice, and the good news is we can pretty much play whatever we want because the world’s going down so there are so legal ramifications for copyright infringement. Nothing matters anymore! My 3 year relationship ending in my ex banging his new coworker doesn’t matter. My best friend moving out without notice leaving me with an apartment I can’t afford doesn’t matter. This job doesn’t matter. Nothing fucking matters! You heard it here first, on Channel 9 News, NOTHING FUCKING MATTERS!”
Ashleigh stopped screaming and smoothed her hair, looking straight into the camera.
“In our last minute together, here we are, everyone’s voting for the last song they’ll ever hear before the world turns into a dumpster fire of death. Johnathan is asking for ‘Gold Digger,’ and Macie is wishing she could hear anything by Ariana Grande. Macon just doesn’t want to hear ‘any of that pop shit’ and Jason doesn’t want to hear ‘any of that country shit.’ My, my, ya’ll have a lot of opinions. OK, we’re counting down like it’s New Year’s Eve. And here it is, my song choice. I’ll play it for ya’ll as we count from 10…”
Those still in the room counted down as Ashleigh queued up her song choice. The room got to one, Ashleigh pushed play, and everything started happening all at once.
Booms, crashes, screams, eruptions of fire. Ashleigh, along with everyone else, fell to the ground in a grand loss of consciousness, her phone flying out of her hand, music blasting, but no one left to hear it.
Everyone on the earth died within minutes, but Ashleigh’s phone continued to play the Bluey theme song on repeat until the battery died hours later.
Shannon Ambroson 