There are some, a minority, who can see and prevent the mistakes made by their predecessors, if it weren't for this minority, evolution wouldn't have occurred.

But sometimes, the minority can't speak loud enough, and the mistake snowballs until the majority falls on their heads and are confronted with the awful truth.

For the past few months, the only news that has been talked about is that of the ozone layer.

Naturally, the ozone layer regenerates, but since the stress of greenhouse gases was amplified by humans, it has been eaten away quicker than it can grow back.

Scientists predicted that on the 18th of January, 2041, the ozone layer would no longer be strong enough to shield us from the ultraviolet rays of the sun like it could for the past 3 billion years.

Today, it's the 17th , and the sun is sinking behind the horizon for the last time.

Everyone has been frantic, desperate to save their families' lives from the deadly sun that will kill them and every other living thing on this planet.

From what I have observed, me and my husband, Ash, are the only calm ones in this storm.

We had both protested since we were ten-years-old to stop using fossil fuels, using disposable plastics, and to stop wasting things unnecessarily in general. Yet, our cries fell upon deaf ears.

Eventually, Ash and I accepted that we would have to face the consequences of everyone else's mistakes, no matter how unfair it seemed.

Our great sadness is only for our daughter, Fleur, who will never be able to follow her dreams because society couldn't keep our world clean.

I gaze out from my deck to the darkening sky above. Inside, I can hear Fleur and Ash playing dolls in the loungeroom. Sadness wraps itself around me like a blanket of ice, making hot tears stream down my cheeks. I wipe them away briskly, and head inside.

"I need to be strong for Fleur," I tell myself while walking to the kitchen.

The pan sizzles with my home-style version of Bolognese. The smells of tomato and beef mince fill my nose and make my mouth water.

Spaghetti Bolognese, my family's last meal.

I prepare the food onto three plates and carry them across to the dining table.

Fleur jumps up from the dollhouse and runs at full speed over to her chair.

"We never have spaghetti, mum! You're the best!" she tells me.

I chuckle and smile.

"I wanted to make this night special." I give Ash a solemn look. He returns my expression.

"It's always a special night when you're here, Sierra," Ash tells me.

I smile weakly. The three of us begin to eat the dish. The juicy flavour of the Bolognese pampers my tongue. I look up from my food to see Fleur sucking up the spaghetti like a vacuum. Ash notices, and makes her burst out in giggles by putting a single spaghetti strand above his lips like an overgrown moustache. I laugh too, and the sound of happiness fills our home.

After dinner, I tuck Fleur into bed. Through her sleepy eyes, she tells me her plan for tomorrow, like she always does.

"Tomorrow, can we go to the park?" she asks me wearily.

I fight back the tears with all my strength.

"Of course, we can, Fleur, I'll see you tomorrow morning, and I love you so much," I tell her, smiling with my mustered strength.

I crash on my bed with Ash beside me, and plant my face into the mattress, allowing my emotions to collapse. Ash puts his arm around my weeping body and comforts me as the tears slide down my face.

"It's not fair, is it?" I whimper.

His fingers twirl through my hair in the dark. "No, Sierra, it isn't. But there is nothing we can do now, tonight was the last sunset for planet Earth - the last day of our lives."

I wake again. Surprisingly, I feel nothing but sheer calmness as I dress myself. The sadness I felt for Fleur seems to have suppressed itself deep down the rabbit warren of my thoughts. I head to Fleur's room, where Ash is fitting her in her favourite dress.

"Is it a special day, dad?" Fleur smiles.

"Yes, it is, darling. We have to go before we eat breakfast, just come outside with your mother and I, dear."

The three of us head to the door, sweat dripping off our faces from intense heat.

"Before we go out, take one of these."

I hand a sleeping pill each to Ash and Fleur. Fleur eagerly swallows her pill and before long, collapses into Ash's arms as the drug takes its swift effect on her tiny body.

I take in a deep breath before opening the front door and stepping out onto the porch.

Outside, the blazing sky has scorched everything before us. The grass has turned to charcoal, and massive cracks in the earth have appeared in our front garden.

I take Ash's hand and clasp it in my own before swallowing the powerful drug.

"I love you," Ash whispers.

"I love you too," I say, and together, we step into the sunlight.

My senses have begun losing strength from the drug, but with the reception they have left, the agonizing rays of the sun's mighty beam sizzle into my fleshy back. It feels like hours of agony before the sleeping pill finally takes effect and the world goes black.

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