The city of Athens was never meant to be a battlefield. A quiet college town, amidst the rolling hills and natural beauty of the Appalachian Mountain range.

  And on the outskirts, an apartment. The home of Pete and Natalie Bishop.

  Pete came home first, that afternoon. Tossing his keys on the coffee table, he collapsed on the couch. “This freaking day.”

  By the time Natalie arrived, he was already watching sports highlights, lounging. “No fair, I want to be lazy!” She said, grinning as she walked over to give him a kiss.

  “How was work?” Pete asked.

  “Ugh!” Natalie groaned, heading to the bedroom. “Long. I’m swamped with lesson plans.”

  Married for a month. Natalie, a first-year schoolteacher. Pete, a case worker at a counseling office for families. Standing together, at the beginning of life’s next chapter.

  Unaware the calamity fast approaching.

  Pete tried to lighten the mood. “Welp,” he started, deadpan. “Gotta keep it together, babe. We need that sweet teacher money.”

  Natalie poked her head out from the bedroom doorway, curly hair hanging down. “Not helping.” she said, pretending to be angry.

  Pete smiled.

  She came out in her comfortable clothes, blue shorts, and an old sweatshirt. “All that teacher money.” she added sarcastically as she sat and kicked her feet up on Pete’s lap. “What do you want to do for dinner?”

  Pete picked up the cue and started rubbing her feet, his eyes back on the screen. “I don’t know. ‘Fend for yourself night’?”

  “Sounds good to me.” She said.

  Natalie noticed her husband had changed into his trademark white T-shirt, blue jeans, and a Yankee cap. Something she knew to be both adorable and a sign that he’d had a tough day as well. “Pete outfit, huh?”

  Natalie Bishop, ever insightful.

  “Yeah, I guess.” He admitted. “It’s just, I’ve got this family on my case load, and I know there’s drugs in the home, but…”

  He stopped abruptly, changing his mind. Angry he’d talked about work at all. “It’s… whatever.”

  Natalie looked at her husband with sympathy. Then climbed behind him on the couch. “Ok, your turn.” She said and started to rub his shoulders.

  “Hmph”, he let out as she pressed. “Thanks.”

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  Natalie smiled. “Sometimes me. This time you.”

  After a moment she changed topics. “I kind of wanted to clean out the closet in the spare bedroom. Would you want to come sit in there with me? Keep me company?”

  Pete chuckled. “Sure. Might as well check scores on the computer.”

  “Yankees, Buckeyes, or Browns?” She asked, listing his three favorite teams.

  “Go Yankees, Babe! World Series this year!” He replied. “Besides, I don’t have the energy to think about Cleveland.”

  Natalie shrugged, “Yay…sports?” She slowly put up her fist, in her best impersonation of an actual fan. It made her husband laugh again, and satisfied, she gave him one more kiss on the cheek and jumped up heading to the spare bedroom.

  A couple minutes later, she was already pulling out summer clothes from the closet and putting them in a plastic tote. Pete sat at the desk adjacent to her.

  “I had a student come to school, whose mom passed away two days ago.” Natalie said.

  “Are you serious? That’s awful!” Pete stopped to look at her. “How can that even be allowed to happen?”

  “Well, some of these kids, their home is just not a good place to be. This one just wanted to be at school.” She put a dress in the tote. “You know how it is.”

  Pete sat quietly, reflecting, and then agreed. “You’re right.”

  It was a difficult truth. So many kind families, so many hard situations, especially in southeastern Ohio, and especially for children. Pete dazed, thinking about how random life’s circumstances could be assigned. How hard it could be for some, how safe for others.

  “It’s weird.” Natalie continued, “How different your life can be just because of what you’re born into.”

  Pete’s eyebrows lifted, momentarily stunned. “Whoa!” He exclaimed. “How’d you… I was just thinking that exact same thing.”

  Natalie stopped and stared at the shirt she was holding. “I don’t know.” She started. “Didn’t you just say something like that?”

  “No,” Pete replied. “But I was thinking it.”

  Natalie’s eyes dazed as goosebumps briefly rose on her arms and neck. She shook the feeling away. “Psychic, I guess.”

  For his part, Pete laughed, watching her. And as he did he found himself marveling quietly at his romantic fortune. “What did I ever do to get so lucky?”

  The moment itself wasn’t long lived. And though (as a husband who loved his wife very much) he’d had similar realizations before, it would be this time, in particular, that would remain etched into his mind and memory. For the rest of his short life, in fact, Pete Bishop would always remember looking at her right then. The final seconds of their existence in a “normal” state. Sitting there, watching Natalie work. The quiet hum of the computer barely noticeable amidst the sound of folding clothes. And as he watched, a seemingly inane thought popped into his head. Like a lit fuse sizzling before the dynamite explodes. Nothing profound. Nothing suspicious. A simple, common, human notion.

  “She’s had those blue shorts for years.” He mused. Perfectly ordinary. A harmless thought. Gone in a flash. And then…

  He broke.

  Like a psychic bullet to the brain. Pete’s head fell, eyes wide. His jaw slacked, leaving his mouth open in a dead stare.

  Natalie’s back was turned when it happened. She saw nothing.

  Pete’s left-hand grabbed hold of the bottom of his seat, knuckles turning white from the strain. His right reached briefly toward the computer mouse and then fell. Halting spasms from a body shutting down.

  His awareness ceased. Perception, frozen. No sound, or light, no sense at all.

  Then, as if a tripped circuit being reset, his mind awoke, and in that waking, an unnatural, and horrifying realization was suddenly “hammering” into his skull.

  “Existence is a prison. You’re trapped forever. Death won't save you.”