Today in sixth period, my teacher stopped the entire class activity to pass out slips of paper that she said were extremely important.

I looked down at mine. It said:

I stopped to think. Well, it makes sense that the School Board is canceling school, but for how long? I mean, I'm assuming until the blackouts are over, but who knows when that'll be?

I decided not to answer that question for now.

Maybe I was scared of finding out the truth.

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The next day I texted Maxine on my SmartPad. SmartPads are clear screens made of a flexible, plastic-like polymer that illuminate to life when a small button is pressed on the side. They're pretty cool. They were created, for the most part, with many of the same applications as the old "smartphones" people used in the early 2000's. People did this so that we wouldn't have to adapt too much to new programs and features.

I opened up the messaging feature and turned on my one-handed keyboard. The keyboard is an ergonomic wooden board with keys on it, roughly hand-shaped, that makes it much easier and faster to type. I quickly tapped in:

In a couple of seconds, she answered:

Soon we had all met up at the park and were walking together in silence.

I looked over at Maxine, who I thought looked beautiful in the late morning light. The sun, now high in the cloudless sky, reflected on her wide-framed glasses and her auburn hair, making it shimmer. She was wearing a light, flowy tank top and a long, paisley-printed skirt. I put my arm protectively over her narrow shoulders and felt her cuddling up to me. I smiled and decided to break the silence.

"So... This blackout business has been pretty crazy, huh?"

"Yeah," Josh replied. "I mean, during the blackouts, we can't open our fridge too often, we can't charge our SmartPads, we can barely do anything!"

Maxine spoke up. "Exactly. And when we have electricity, we have to cherish it because we don't know when we'll have to go without it." She sighed.

"How many blackouts have there been in the past four days?" Hayley asked.

"Let's see." I started counting on my fingers. "One on the first day, another on the second -after school- and a third blackout yesterday. Three blackouts, each about an hour long."

There was silence again.

"When will this be over?" a concerned Amanda asked.

Josh shook his head. "I don't know. No one could possibly be sure. But all I can say is that the government is working to solve these problems. We'll just have to wait and see what happens."

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I was upstairs when I heard my mother unlocking the front door. I ran downstairs to meet her, but she was pale as a sheet and shaking like crazy.

"Mom! What's wrong with you?" I asked. I knew it sounded mean, but I was really worried. She didn't look too good. "Come in, sit down." I sat her down on the couch and handed her some water. "What's wrong, Mom?"

She stared at the blank TV screen and said, "Thank you, honey. But you know our neighbor, Mr. Thompson?"

I took a seat next to her. "Yeah. Of course I do. What's wrong with Mr. Thompson?"

"I saw him out front with another one of our neighbors. I think it was the lady that lives down the street. Mr. Thompson was holding a red container of gasoline." Her hands were shaking too hard, so she put her water down on the side table. "The lady seemed to be asking him for the gas, but he looked really angry, so I decided to hide in the bushes. They were arguing over the gasoline."

"Oh, that's terrible," I replied, the hurt lacing my heart. "But I guess it's everyone for themselves these days."

But my mother wasn't finished. "That's not even the worst part. She pulled it away from him with one mighty tug, but he had another plan. He took out something shiny from behind his back, and it took me a little while to figure out what it was. But now I know. Tyler, he took out a knife. It was a knife. The lady saw it, but she still didn't listen. She wanted that gas as badly as he did, and she thought he wouldn't do it. She thought he wouldn't kill her. I thought he wouldn't kill her. But we were both wrong. He took that knife and he - he just..." she trailed off, but I wanted to know more. "Mom... Are you sure that all this is true?"

"I wish it wasn't, but honey, it is. I just watched Mr. Thompson kill someone for a gallon of gasoline."