Spending the last day with Maegan Finn,*
who, turns out, prefers to be called Mae

11:35 p.m.

I burn the popcorn. Just the pieces against the bag's underbelly.
Like a nightclub bouncer, I decide which pieces to let inside
a white, ancient bowl. One, on which, a former roommate scrawled
"THIS MACHINE KILLS MUNCHIES" upon its side in red, permanent ink.
I never said the night would be

perfect. But when I walk into my bedroom carrying the snack fiasco,
I know Ms. Maegan Finn doesn't mind. Something between her vine-framed,
honey irises and my gaze, some mischievous energy, causes her to lower
her head. She allows a smile. She's sitting on my twin-sized bed. Her back to a pillow
to the

wall. An empty pillow beside her waits for me. With one hand she moves her hot chocolate
to the side, with the other she lifts my calico comforter for me to climb under. I never
said the night would be

perfect. But I know Ms. Maegan Finn doesn't mind. Because when I say, "I'm sorry. I didn't really plan for this," nervous laugh, "this is the worst final meal of all-time. You can leave if you want.
You don't have to go down with the ship."

She responds, "I don't mind," raises an eyebrow as she reads the bowl. Dismisses it. And grabs a handful of popcorn. On the television, a white-haired man with heavy jowls and tree bark wrinkles begins to talk.

...planet Earth will be recycled. The universe recycled.

"So, when does this guy think the world will end?" I ask.

"Midnight."

"Chris said two."

"Two p.m.? Like today? Like already past?"

"Yeah."

Maegan shakes her head,"Stupid *******."

11:40 p.m.

"So, if I hadn't botched dinner, what would you have chosen for your last meal?"

"Well, Joshy-poo, I'd have to say popcorn and hot chocolate."

"Seriously."

"It's salty. It's sweet. The temperatures compliment each other.
It shouldn't work, but it does. If the world wasn't ending,
I'd suggest you open a restaurant."

"C'mon. What would your last meal be?"

...with friends. Cling to your loved ones as the final minutes pass by.
The world becomes perfect. The calendar pages turn no...

"Do you remember Waffle Crisp?" she breaks gently.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Hold on."

"Any meal on the planet. Anything! And you choose-"

"Waffle Crisp."

"Oh, that terrible commercial with the grannies in disguise."

"Grannies and all," staring at the reflective surface of the hot chocolate,
she begins talking in distant pieces like reading off a teleprompter,
"Waffle            Crisp            reminds

me           of           my

              dad."

"I see."

A commercial is on for ******. I never said the night would be

perfect.

...picking the right moment is easy with...

"Why do you think of your dad?"

Maegan releases a deep exhale/tension-laugh.

"I don't know. I mean, I

guess it's because every morning -- well, before my parents got divorced --
he'd come down the stairs, mess up my hair -- God, I'd get so mad --, and
he'd say,
'Mae, may the world learn from your perfection today.'
He'd kiss my forehead. I'd eat Waffle Crisp. I remember the smell -- the shapes."

11:51 p.m.

...less than ten minutes. Go outside with your families
look to the

heavens...

"How's the world supposed to end? Has he said?" Maegan asks.

With a finger raised, I finish chewing my popcorn.

"The planets are aligning right?"

"Yeah, I've heard that. I've heard the Mayans just
ended their calendars on the

date. But I don't know how either of those scenarios make the world end, though."

"Exploding sun?"

"Maybe an asteroid?"

"Could be," I say.

Ms. Maegan Finn rests her head on my shoulder. "You should ask another question."

"Um, okay."

...Security Systems. Are your children safe?

"I got one," I grab the remote and turn down the television. "What is something you haven't told

anyone? One secret that otherwise would die with you."

"I hate the name Maegan."

"Why?"

"It's a terrible name."

"Is not."

"It is too. First off, not only did my parents indulge the cruelty of switching the 'a' and 'e',

but

then they went ahead and gave me the most common girl's name on the planet.
I don't stand out until I say, 'Excuse me, you misspelled my name.' It's not funny.
Hell, even when I say that, their usual response is, 'No, I didn't misspell your name.'
Because they'd know."  Flustered, Maegan puts the white, ancient bowl of popcorn on the ground. "And get this away from me."

"What would you rather be called?"

"Mae. Just Mae. I always liked it."

"Alright, Ms. Mae."

...hoisted unto judgement. Some without absolution...

"What about you, Mr. Josh? What's your secret?"

I take a sip of hot chocolate. I look at the bare wall behind the television, and wish I had
decorated it, but I

never did. The paintings are even in my closet. They just need to be put up.

"I love you."

"What?"

"I love you, Mae."

Mae smiles wide. Puts her hand on my shoulder, "Your'e joking right?"

"Nope."

"That's a bold secret to tell," she laughs.

"Not the reaction I was expecting."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just -- what happens tomorrow? When I have to see you again."

"I'm betting on the exploding sun."

"Or the asteroid."

"Or the asteroid."

11:59 p.m.

...a matter of seconds until we are cast like dice into the blackness of...

Mae takes my hot chocolate. Places the porcelain cups on the carpeted floor. With a "c'mere" she peels me off the pillow, off the wall. Moves the pillow to the head of the bed. She guides my body until I'm lying down. Straddling me, she leans down. Traces my shoulder blades, then softly latches on to them. She leans further.

...9, 8, 7...*

A kiss.

A long kiss. The weight transfers from my body into her, then is carried toward the ceiling by some mischievous energy. At the end of the world, Ms. Mae Finn kisses me. Kisses me despite popcorn. Despite hot chocolate. Despite love confessed too soon. Just when I never want that minute to end, it




ends.



12:00 a.m.
          
               But a new minute begins.

"That was perfect," Mae says.

I am Katniss Everdeen.
I volunteered for my sister in The Hunger Games.
I survived, so did Peeta.
I know the Capitol hates me.
I am a rebel.
I love Peeta.
I wonder if he is alive.
I am the mockingjay, symbol of all rebels.
I killed President Coin because she killed Prim.
I live in District 12 now.
I have 2 kids.
I watch them play in the meadow, the unknown graveyard.
I am Katniss Everdeen.

written by maegan cattermull

There was a young lady of Panem,
District 12 and had a sister named Prim,
She and Peeta won the 74th Hunger Games,
But she hated all the glory and fame,
Her name is Katniss Everdeen and she is the Mockingjay for the rebel's team.

written by maegan cattermull

If I ruled the world things would be this way:
The Hunger Games would be watched every single day,
Tomorrow When The War Began would be listened to and read,
While others choose to have the figurines next to thier beds,
John Marsden and Suzanne Collins would be the best known authors,
And mothers would go out to dinner once a month with just their daughters.

I would be a rich and famous actor and a poet,
Ellie, Julia and Taylor have talent and I know it,
I just need to figure out the best way for them to show it,
Maybe in acting, writing or singing,
I have no ideas for my bell they are not ringing.

I would stop all war and poverty,
And everyone would have the same amount of property,
I would even out the money for every country,
And have all my fruit and veg hard and crunchy,
Our world would be a multi-cultural, accepting all religions,
One day I would get rid of all televisions.

Swimming would be a sport at school as well as cheerleading and diving,
But everyone would have to take lessons in surviving,
And every day my hair would be curled,
All of this would happen if I ruled the world.

written by maegan cattermull

Is boredom a thing or a feeling,
That sometimes we don't like believing,
So is it a place,
Or even a race,
Or is it what happens when we are kneeling.

written by maegan cattermull

Poems are a way of expressing yourself in another way,
Without being punished for having your say,
There are lots of topics to write about,
And I say the without a doubt,
You may not be that good at it,
But everyone can do it,
Whether the age difference is big or small,
Or whenther you are short or tall,
You could write about being happy or sad,
Even depressed or glad,
Maybe you want to stick to the basic things like free verse,
If so you could write about a mummy with a curse,
But if you want a harder challenge you could write a haiku,
But it would have to be about a cuckoo,
But always remember the haikus rule 5,7,5,
So you don't look stupid if we're broadcasting live,
You could write about a monkey and his dream,
And he dreamt that he was finally clean,
Or what about a vegemite sandwich,
No, wait, what about a whole poem dedicated to language,
I'm not sure don't you see,
None of these appeal to me,
What about a poem where a girl's explaining a poem,
Yes, that's it, you have finally got me out of my thought pit.

written by maegan cattermull

Life is hardly black or white,
today it feels like the darkness of night,
for I am sitting here, in sadness and sorrow,
wishing there was a happy tomorrow.

wishing there was a clock to turn back,
to undo the pain that I have caused.
no clock could ever be this kind, as to be that best friend of mine,
when you try your best and its just not enough,
when you try your best and life just gets more tough.

Maegan,James I miss you so, please believe my painful woe.
Life is a journey that turns and bends,
but never lets you make amends.
sorry can be said but rarely herd, and often too late to to be observed.
Please know that dad is here, whenever you need a laughter and cheer.
I love you both till the end of time, please please please think of me in time.

I am not the person you now believe, I am the person who loves and grieves.
please know this heart loves you, I swear this day it is wholly true.

Dad

I am curious.
I wonder if the living dead can hear me.
I hear their wails and moans.
I want to help them find their way.
I am now one of them.

written by maegan cattermull

Waiting in the dark. Just waiting.
I can't sleep. I will wait until morning.
I just can't risk having that dream again.
That one dream. The dream that changed my life forever.

I dreamt that I was running so fast that I felt like I was flying.
I felt amazing. Smiling, laughing, feeling the wind blow through my hair.
As I approached a house, I saw it was on fire.
When I moved close, I saw that it was specifically my father's house.

"No," I said. Then I started screaming.
"No no no no NO!" I was starting to hear screams.
It was her. Alyra. She came running out of the house as if she was on fire. And she was.
Her pink-white shirt got caught on the door and she was stuck.

I tried to run for her. I did. I really tried.
But these hands grabbed my waist.
I looked back, and could see a boy. Blonde hair, but the face was blurred.
I was so mad that he wouldn't let me get her. I punched him and kicked him, but he just wouldn't let me go.

All he said was "I'm sorry."
Throughout my dream there were so many people whom I loved that died.
Alyra, Molly, my mother, my father, all my close family members like young Isabel, Rose, and T-J. Lilly, Maegan, Mahali, and SO MANY people died.
Each time I couldn't save them.

Then, at the very end of my dream, I fell into a pit.
Everyone who I couldn't save came and buried me alive. Each person giving me one shovel of dirt.
The list went on and on.
I woke up sweating and thrashing about.

And this, is how I learned that I really should not make any more friends.
It hurts to care about people, it hurts to love people.
But there are some whom I just can't help myself with.
I hate caring about them, but it pleasures me to know that they are safe... Safe. Ha. Safety doesn't exist. And the sooner we figure that out, the better off we'll be.

I am the soldier of the 32nd Battalion.
I wonder if i will make it out alive.
I hear my friends dying around me.
Iwant to fight and win this war for my country.
I am the soldier of the 32nd Battalion.

I understand that i may never see my family again.
I say to others to keep fighting.
I dream of the triumph if we win.
I try to let out my emotions when no one is around.
I hope we all survive but i know it won't happen.
I am the soldier of the 32nd Battalion.

I prtend to be strong in front of others.
I feel so much pain.
I touch my leg and feel blood.
I worry i might not make it.
I cry for my loved ones.
I am the soldier of the 32nd Battallion.

written by maegan cattermull

I am me, wonderful and calm.
I wonder if the world is it's own.
I hear the laughs of my peers  around me.
I want to befriend those whom i haven't already.
I am me, pure and loveing.

written by maegan cattermull

A worldwide notion,
Sometimes doubtful in meaning,
I like Italian.

written by maegan cattermull

I want you to have something to remember me by,
When photos fade and memories leave,
Not what poeple shaped me to be,
NO, me, just plain me,
The me that liked going to the movies with friends,
The me that talked to you when i couldn't talk to others,
The me that loved sharing secrets,
The me that saw life form a different perspective,
The me that cherished every day that came,
The me that loved writning poems,
And more importantly the me that you knew,
So I'm writning this for you,
So you'll have something to remember me by,
When photos fade and memories leave,
Don't forget that there will always be our friendship,
So if you need me you'll know I'll always be there evn when I'm not.

written by maegan cattermull