I look out of the windows, reminiscing about the old days.

For the past three long months, the window had been my only connection to the outside world. Without it, this house would probably have felt like a tomb. Already it's as quiet as a mausoleum. The phone doesn't ring anymore and the door stays shut unless the home nurse is making her call. Really, I want her to sit and talk, but I have nothing to say that would have interested her anyway. Sometimes I ask her to move some furniture or make some tea, anything to stop her from going so fast. I always see the slight look of frustration on her face, when I do it.

I don't care, though. It's the only company I have.

The rest of the day I stare through the rectangle of glass to the folks that walk by, the delivery trucks and the traffic that stands still much of the time. Once in a while, I'll see a neighbor, but by the time I've pulled my even consider saying anything to them, they're long gone. So, it's just me and the glass, clear or rain-splattered.

Not for long though, I thought grimly. Before this rain goes, I will be gone myself.

´You won't be the only one going´, I hear something in my head say. I try to ignore it. ´That won't work´, it says, again, in an almost musical voice.

I stop trying to distract myself and begin walking into the kitchen.

The house isn't big at all, so I quickly got to it.

I look around and don't see that many things. Money had been tight, for a long time, and I had been forced to sell most of what I owned, just to afford the house. I had been selling for so long, I only had the bare minimum left.

´Weren't you the one, telling him to not distract himself´, another voice says. This one, almost, sounding like a grown man´s voice.

“Oh, shut up”, I mutter. Won't they even shut up for my last few moments?

´You can't stop us, You can't stop us, You can't stop us´, many voices chanted in perfect synchronization. Some sounded like old men while some sounded like young girls. Every single voice had some uniqueness to it.

I sigh to myself.

“Let's just get it over with”, I say, with an almost sad tone.

The gas stove, that had been emitting a low screech for these pat twenty minutes, finally stopped, causing me to sigh yet again.

I pull out one of the chairs and sit down.

´Would you like a countdown?´, a sweet voice asked me.

I was almost alarmed by that.

“That's the first time, you guys have helped me with something”, I say, flabbergasted.

`And it will be the last´, the sweet voice replied.

I snort at that.

“You know what? Sure! Let's go from five”, I loudly say.

`Sweet. Five… four… three… two… one´

I turned on the lighter at two, and everything went up in a fire.

The flame burned with colors I never thought possible. With each flare, I knew another of my few possessions were alight. Even from all the way across the street it would have looked like a bonfire. I could almost imagine some kids throwing some potatoes in there in tin foil. But now, there was no celebration. This was the burning of all my celluloid memories and souvenirs and trinkets of a long life.

The wood was fast in becoming ash and the vinyl siding was sliding down like chocolate in the summer heat. The smoke was somehow being carried outside by the wind, allowing to see just a little.

I slowly began having trouble keeping my eyes open.

“Nice knowing you”, I muttered, as my eyes closed.

´You too´

And, so, this was the end for me.

Or was it?

When the fire department had arrived, in the span of an hour, they had successfully culled the fire.

When they searched through the house, they found nobody, or anything showing signs of anything having been living here.

They only find one thing. A golden lighter, unharmed by the fires. It was if it had never been burned.