The world was ending. All life would perish and everybody knew it. The cause? A mega-asteroid NASA tracked to have come from beyond the solar system. Conservative estimates put it at a colossal 100Km in radius, traveling at an insane 200Km/s. Around ten times he average. Due to the speed and angle, NASA came to the conclusion there was no way to avoid collision. Some people believed it was a targeted attack, but most ignored them. It's the end of the world, who would actually care enough to argue?

  Ashton Michael Vern was spending his last moments sat at home drinking Hooch. He wouldn't normally drink alone, but the end of the world would do that to you. Taking another sip, he ruminated over his comparatively short life. He was only in his early twenties. Born in the UK to immigrant parents, Ashton was an only child. While his family was poor, he saw the effort his parents put in to raise him. The home-cooked meals, the sleepless nights when he was sick, picking up extra shifts; all to make sure he grew up with less difficulties than them. They even changed their surnames so he would have a better chance at getting jobs. Racial profiling's a bitch.

  'To this day, I never got why you named me Ashton. Such a pretentious name. You could have named me Asher, or just Ash, it's what you called me anyway.' He thought, glancing at a picture on the wall. It depicted a brown family of three. A mother, father, and their clear teenage son. Ash's mum was from Egypt and his dad from Botswana. His skin was a caramel colour in between his parents, however Ash got his fathers hair. This was something his mum would "complain about" saying that he "only" got her skin, even though everyone agreed he got his good looks from her. It didn't help when he started to grow dreads to be more like his father. He never stopped getting flack for that. A few of his friends even started calling him the ultimate lightskin.

  The picture was taken on the happiest day of his life; the day they went to Blackpool to celebrate his GCSE results. They didn't normally go places like these, but for all nines his parents would've taken him to the moon if they could. They spent the entire day going on rides, eating "good", and getting souvenirs. He even found out that he was gonna be an older brother. The picture was taken at the end of the day, after his father had recovered from the Pepsi Max. He screamed the entire way through.

  Tilting his head back to finish his drink, Ash spotted the aftermath of his saddest day – his wheelchair. Unfortunately, when they were on the motorway heading home, some fucker swerving between lanes swiped the front of their car causing it to flip and roll over multiple times. He was the only survivor, but he also lost most of his leg functions. After waking up in A&E, Ash devolved into a near catatonic state. He would barely respond to anyone or anything, stuck in his own head about that fateful day. What would have happened if he didn't want to go to Blackpool? what about if they left earlier? or later? what if things were-

  'No! I am not thinking about that right now. I managed to claw myself out of there, and not even the end of the world will drag me back. I'd have to die first.' Looking at his legs, he could practically see all the scars on them, even though he was wearing joggers. He didn't like looking at them.

  Shaking his empty can, he looked across his studio apartment into his kitchen, at his fridge; the keeper of his coveted ale. Glancing out his window, he saw the ever-growing "Death Star" looming in the sky. It looked to be heading straight for him, and considering the point of contact was the UK, it might as well have been. Looking at his legs one more time, Ash decided to attempt–no—complete a goal of his.

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  Ever since he started working on himself again, to not fester in his own despair, one of his goals was to be able to walk across his flat. It started off with 5 steps, then ten, but since then, there's been little improvements. He'd measured it out, the distance between his sofa and fridge was about 20 steps. If he could make it there, then he would've completed two of his goals; walk across his flat, and get his drink.

  Looking at the time, Ash had about ten minutes to complete his grand venture. The scientists at NASA predicted it would hit around midnight on May 29th 2030.

  Swinging his legs off the sofa, Ash shakily stood up. Getting up was way harder than staying standing for him. Once he righted himself, Ash turned towards his kitchen and took his first step. Then his second, third, fourth, all the way til his tenth. This got him to the edge of his living room; half way to his destination.

  "Why the fuck did I put my fridge so far away? Fuck." He was conveniently forgetting that was the only place it would fit. He got a bigger fridge so he wouldn't need to go food shopping as much.

  Stuffing away his complaints, Ash took his eleventh and twelfth steps, reaching his previous best. Normally his legs would be shaking so much, and he'd be in so much pain, that he would have to stop. Now though? He barely felt any pain. Maybe the alcohol was dulling his pain. He'd already finished a case. Moving slower, Ash took his thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth steps. Now he was starting to feel it, now he was in pain.

  His sixteenth step was shaky. His seventeenth? shakier. His eighteenth saw him stumble, and his knees were buckling on his nineteenth. A pair of boots, and a saying would come true. It didn't matter to him though, he was literally one step away. At this point it wasn't even about the drink, all he wanted to do was reach the fridge, to complete a goal, to leave this life with one less regret. And he did. It wasn't pretty, but he took that last step. He practically fell to the fridge, but he did it.

  Opening the fridge, Ash laid eyes on his hard earned reward, his last can of Blue Hooch. Taking it out and pulling on the tab, he heard the satisfying pop of a can being opened. Tilting his head back, he took massive gulps, as if this was precious lifesaving water.

  "I'd be so remissed if I couldn't get to you." He said, talking to the can. He then turned around and leaned on his, now closed, fridge to stare out of his window. Admiring the skyline, Ash noticed how much bigger the Death Star got. If before, it was a much bigger speck in the night sky, now it was a sizeable portion of the moon.

  "Holy shit! What time is it? How long did I take?!" Swinging his head towards his clock, Ash realised it was past midnight. "Hahaha, did I really take 10 minutes to take 20 steps? Hahaha. At least I did it. I'll treat it like a birthday gift."

  Sliding down to sit on the floor, Ash raised his can into the air "Mum, Dad, I've made it to 23. You don't need to worry about me anymore, I'll join you soon." Knocking his head back, he took another big gulp "What a shitty fucking birthday, happening on the apocalypse."

  Staring at his looming demise, Ash couldn't help but chuckling at how unserious the human race was. What other species would name their executioner after a fictional super-weapon.

  'Whoever named it that, this one's for you.' Ash thought, toasting the lunatic.

  1 minute later, the asteroid entered Earths atmosphere. The sky immediately turned an ominous shade of red. Almost instantly, it hit the ground, killing everybody in a 200km radius.

  30 seconds later, it burst out of the Pacific Ocean, further taking out parts of New Zealand before leaving the Earths atmosphere. Effectively becoming a cosmic bullet shot to take out the Earth.

  15 seconds after that, the Earth exploded, spelling an end to both it, and all life on it.

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