[ WP ] 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... As the world ends , your life flashes before your eyes . Yet , it is n't the life you remember living .

*Slight variation of the prompt, still fits I think? First time writing in here so not sure* 
 
 
 He looks down. From up here, it suddenly looks a lot higher as he thought it would. The cold rain dripping down his neck keeps him awake, even though that's exactly what he wants to escape. While the rain slowly mixes in with the salt of his tears, he takes a deep breath. The muffled sound of sirens in the distance reminds him that this is the right choice. It's the only choice. 
 
 
 And then all the sounds just seem to stop. No more bombs going off, no more sirens, just the wind rushing past him as he realises the pavement is getting closer and closer. The years rush past him as he falls, his childhood, university, marriage, and then that dreadful day. That dreadful day the end of the world started, without anyone even really knowing. 
 
 
 As he keeps falling, out of nowhere a door appears in his mind. It immediately opens and brings him back to the first dreadful day. Many dreadful days had followed from there on. He sees himself, he knows what he did. He chose a leader for his nation. Still falling through his memory, the ink suddenly shifts place. 
 
 
 And with that, the future to believe in became history. More doors open, but all he can see is that ink shifting. He chose for this to happen, just as he now chose for this to end. 
 
 
 The final door makes place for the pavement he expected to reach so much faster. The pavement he expected to reach before he knew. 
 

