[ WP ] The four last people on earth decide to commit suicide one by one . The last man decides he can not bring himself to end his own life . Describe the remainder of his life .

It's been a year that I've lived alone. 
 Of course, I was always alone, even when they were still here, even when everybody was still here, but I was n't the lone inhabitant of the earth then. Just a lonely inhabitant along with my three companions. 
 They were never really friends of mine, and at times I abhorred them for no particular reason, but I was still sorry to see them die. 
 No, scratch that. I was sorry to see myself as the only one who lived. 
 
 I thought for sure they would n't go through with it, but once again they proved me dead wrong. 
 Ha, dead wrong. 
 Come on, you need to find humor in that somewhere. 
 
 One year ago today they were here talking to me, going on about something that I'm sure did n't matter, griping about the cold or how early it's been getting dark. Then, they got the idea, and once it entered their minds, I could do nothing to stop them. It was Mark who first came up with it, the idea of us offing ourselves. He lit up like a lightbulb, and both Carrie and Adam were totally sold. I guess you could say being the last four people on earth really had us depressed, because I do n't think there was a single opposition of the idea by my companions. I, however, thought they were all going to wuss out when it came time, so I did n't take it seriously. 
 
... that is, until Mark took out a knife and slit his own throat, right then and there. He dropped to the snow covered ground and turned white to red, and Carrie and Adam quickly followed suit. As for me, I was too stunned to think anything, so I tried to do the same thing, but my arms would n't move in the right fashion and I think I stood there, knife in hand for a good hour just trying to decide what just happened and what I should do next. I was still just so shocked at how abruptly that whole sequence had just occurred, at how they did n't even say goodbye. I guess when you're that numb, you do n't think about goodbyes. 
 
 So now I am here, alone and slowly being driven insane by solitude. Every day I pick up my knife and hold it to my neck, and every day my hand trembles and falters and I lower the knife down to my side, unable to free myself from this madness. Maybe someday I'll find the ability to, but until then, I'll have the empty streets, vacant buildings and open skies to keep me company. 
 
 I like them better than people anyway. 

