There he lay, surrounded by a pool of his own blood. I was standing there in front of him. A smoking pistol in my right hand. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream and run. I wanted to take back on what I had done but, all I could do was stand there and look at him with a dead, soulless glare.  

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  We all have ideas on how the world will end. Maybe a giant flood due to melting ice caps and global warming. Maybe a nuclear war causing a massive wipe out of all human and plant life. Or maybe a virus that causes the dead to live once again. I remember when I was just able to laugh and think about how dumb all those ideas were. Never in a million years would I have guessed it would all end with fire.