Ella

I wake up only to tap my wrist and see what time it is. Upon doing this, I find myself practically jumping out of my bed to rummage around for something to wear. For some reason, my alarm did not go off. With this, I have slept in an hour later than what I was supposed to. You would maybe think that—I don't know—my parents would have perhaps woken me up? Or my brother? I guess they thought I would get up on my own time as long as I wasn't late, and they wouldn't have to worry about me. Or my parents had to leave early to go to work. I know Dad would have to most likely leave early to get to the elementary school, but I don't think Mom would have to leave that early. I'm normally gone before she leaves, but maybe she got a call from the factory to come in earlier. However, Peter could have easily knocked on my door. He knows I'm always up and about before he even eats his breakfast.

By the time I'm dressed and my teeth are brushed and my hair is done, I have five minutes to make it to school. This is not enough time, for I live five minutes away when driving let alone walking or running. 

Hoping and praying that my Dad and Mom both used the same vehicle today, I dig through the drawer in the kitchen only to find the keys I'm looking for. This lets me know that they did only take one car. I know Mom will probably be upset with me later and give me a lecture on how her vehicle could get hit in the school parking lot, but right now I don't care.

Hurrying outside, I throw my backpack in the passenger's seat before getting in and quickly driving out onto the road. I'm not as worried now as I was when I first woke up. I'm still going to be late, but not as late as I would have been if they had taken both automobiles.

Driving past the one factory my mom works at, Acturpa, I can't help but think about how much she wants me to work in there in the future. Our town, Cheyanne—somewhere in the middle of where Colorado used to be—is home to many of the modern factories where things are made. Most of the factories make automobiles—like Acturpa—--but a couple of them also make items for everyday needs like clothes and other random things. 

Another story my grandmother would tell me, was about how the continent of America was separated into states, something that stopped when she was a little girl. The government decided they wanted the country to be connected as a whole rather than in parts, and that's when it just became America with towns and cities everywhere instead of states. I wish I could have seen what the country would have been like divided into states, or how nice it would be to smell fresh air instead of chemically enhanced smoke rising from the factories' chimneys. Maybe I should move to North.

I laugh at the idea, but I do wonder what another planet would be like.

Driving into the school parking lot, I watch in confusion as Dean runs outside and begins to scream at his brother. I can't hear him over the roar of the engine, but I watch behind him as the rest of the students pour out from the building. Looking around, I hadn't noticed how dark it was getting. I was thinking about the stories of how things used to be, that I wasn't even paying attention.

Rolling down the window to see what the confusion is about, I find myself watching everyone look into the sky. Deciding to look for myself, I suddenly feel my heart plummet in my chest as my eyes meet the reason for everyone's panic.

My mouth goes dry as I watch this giant sphere plummet from the sky directly towards me. My heart begins to hammer against my chest, while my eyes begin to water as I finally hear what everyone is saying. "It's an asteroid!" Over and over again, that's all that I can hear.

I don't know what to do. People continue to run past me, screaming and shouting things. Some tell me to drive away while I still have the chance, others try to force their way into my car, holding on to the hope that they could survive their fate ahead. I'm sorry, but we will not survive this. We cannot escape what is ahead of us.

Rolling up the window before anyone is to climb through, I back out of the school parking lot, and drive toward the elementary school. Mom has the other car with her, but Dad is helpless. I just have to hold onto the idea that Mom is getting in her car and driving somewhere safe. Just leave, I pray in my mind. Leave, Mom, while you still can. I can take care of myself and Dad, oh please, leave.

I wipe away the rushing tears and try to collect my breathing as I accelerate the gas and hope that I don't get into a wreck. That is the last I need.

There are cars everywhere. Horns beeping, people cursing, a Norovian punching a human in the jaw, a mass confusion of crying, and I can't get through. The best option is to travel by foot. If I push myself, I could get there in ten minutes, and hopefully, that will give me enough time.

Opening the door, I take in a deep breath before I begin to push through the crowd. I'm elbowed and knocked around, but I keep moving. My legs begin to burn as I continue to shove through the mass of bodies. I won't stop, though, I need to make sure my Dad is okay.

My lungs hurt from crying, my head hurts from the noise, my body burns from running, but after what seems like a millennium, I make it to the school. From outside, it looks empty, and that makes me worry.

I try the doors, and they're locked. I don't have time to sit around and wait to be buzzed in when I can't even see anyone around.

Gathering up all the strength I can muster, I back up and shove my body against the glass door, shattering it into a million pieces and sending an ache up through my arm. I don't care about the pain, it's the least of my worries.

Rushing down the halls, I try to remember the class he's in. I haven't been in here for so long, last time I was in here was when we had to visit an art show for Peter. That was four years ago.

Oh my God, Peter!

"Dad! Dad, it's me El!" I scream as loud as I can as I run through the halls, the classes still going on as if they don't know they're about to be smashed into the Earth's dust. "Dad!" I yell before I hear his voice just a few doors down from where I just ran past.

"Ella?" He questions as he steps out of one of the classrooms.

"Dad," I cry as I run up to him and hug him tightly.

"El, what's wrong?" He asks gently. Looking over at his room, I see it's on the other side of the school, giving them a view of the other brick wall of the elementary school instead of the street. "Did you notice how dark it's gotten?" He asks as he strokes my hair.

"It's—it's an asteroid, it's coming straight for us—and, and the traffics all jammed so I had to run. I thought since Mom had the other car I could come and get you...Peter!" I cry into his chest, not even making sense. "I forgot about Peter, how could I? I only thought of you and Mom." Sister of the year award goes to...not me, that's for sure.

"It's okay," he says calmly, his voice shaking letting me know that it's not okay. "Let's get out of here, let's warn everyone."

"Bu—but if we warn them, how will we get out? There will be so many people and—"

"Look at you," he scolds. "You sound just like a Norovian. You don't care about all of these children?"

"Of course, I do," I snap, hurt that he would say that. "But pull the fire alarm or something, we need to get Peter and Mom. Besides, where are we going to go anyway? We can't hide from it, it's going to kill us all." I'm full on sobbing. I don't even know if he can understand a word I'm saying. I'm not a strong person, I know that, but I feel like I should be taking this situation better than I am. I do want to save the children, but I want to save my family as well.

"Okay, we'll pull the alarm. Go outside. When you hear the alarm go off, run home. Call Peter on your phone and see where he is." I nod at him, before hurrying out the broken door, mentally hitting myself for not calling him. When you watch your town slowly walk to their funeral, it messes with your mind.

I pull my phone from my pocket and dial. It rings once before he answers.

"Ella, Ella, are you okay? Where are you I searched the school and I couldn't find you!"

"I'm with Dad at the elementary school!" I shout over the sound of the alarm, my feet breaking into a run towards my home. "I'm running home now," turning my head, I watch as my dad helps kids out the door, before waving me to go on without him. More tears brim my eyes before I'm sobbing again.

"I'm home with Mom, she came and picked me up, we just got here."

"How did you get through all the traffic?" I cry, my body winded.

"We drove through yards," he laughs, his laugh not a happy one.

"I'm coming, I should be there soon. Dad—he—he waved me on. He was helping the kids out." I wipe my eyes with my free hand, only causing more tears to fall.

"Are you crazy?" He snaps. "Why would you leave him?"

"Why did I leave you at school? It's the same reason, I'm not thinking clearly, and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, you should be. I called you sixty times and you never answered, that just—" I hang up, not wanting to listen to anymore. I'm going to die, along with the rest of Cheyanne, and maybe even the entire country. The debris is so large, I wouldn't be surprised if it destroyed the whole planet. That thought sends me into another wail before I feel the push and shove of more bodies trying to push past and find a way to save themselves. I want to laugh at them, spit in their eye, punch them, and tell them they're going to die no matter how hard they shove past someone. We can't escape this, we won't make it.

My house isn't very far from the elementary school, which is convenient. It still takes a good fifteen minutes of shoving, running, and crying, but eventually, I'm bursting through the living room doors, and am met with a yelling brother. "What the hell, Ella?" He shouts, before getting in my face.

"Peter," my mom chides him, her voice rough from crying. "That's enough."

"No, Mom," he yells. "It's not. She didn't stay to make sure he got out, do you know how precious the minutes are right now? It could hit any moment and we could all be obliterated—"

"Are you hearing yourself?!" I scream back. "No matter where we go, Peter, we are going to die!" I cry, my tears burning my eyes. "We cannot escape this! He did get out, I watched him! And I should have stayed, but the begging in his eyes broke me, and I couldn't disobey him, I couldn't." My shouting has turned to a whisper.

"You couldn't disobey him this time? Are you serious? Every other time you would jump at the chance to disobey him, but when his life is on the line, you couldn't?" I'm not the violent type—unless your name is Dean—but I can't hold it in any longer.

My fist connects with his jaw before I even realize what I've just done. "Shut the up," I sob. "Don't you dare blame this on me you piece of—"

"Ella, that's enough," my mother growls, before helping Peter up off the floor, his lip bleeding.

"You little—" he begins but is interrupted by a scold from Mom.

"We are going to...end, and this is how you both treat your last moments? Fighting with one another? I can't believe the two of you, you never fight, not physically." Mom gives us both a look, and I realize how much the asteroid really is messing with me...messing with us. 

"He's blaming me, the minute I walked through the door, he's done nothing but act like a bastard! I couldn't take it," I mutter.

"Well, thanks to you I really am going to be a bastard now!" This time it's my mother who hits him. She's never hit any of us, but her palm connects with the back of his head, causing him to yelp.

"You, shut your mouth. Your father is going to come through those doors and we are going to try our best to survive what we know we can't. I will not watch my children be smashed to pieces in front of me. I don't want that." Just as she finishes and a tear escapes her eye, my father bursts through the front door, his suit tattered.

"Into the basement," he orders. We don't reply, we only follow him as we all make our way downstairs, my brother wiping away the blood from his lip.

"Honey," my mom speaks up after a moment. "Where are we going to hide?"

"In the storage closet. It's not very big, but it's the safest place in the house." In the basement, we have a spare bedroom and inside there are two closets—one for clothes and one that holds the power box. It's not very big, but the walls are concrete and it's the lowest place in the house, making it the safest.

Shoving out all the Christmas decorations and other holiday items that are stored inside, we pile in and close the door behind us, the room completely black. "It was like nighttime out there, I couldn't see anything. If it wasn't for the street lights, I don't even know if I would have found my way home," my dad mumbles. We don't reply, for how can we? Our planet is invaded with a large dome of mass destruction, causing both fear and darkness to creep into our world, making it hard to talk at all...so we don't.

We sit there on the floor, for what seems like hours. I have to pee, and my stomach grumbles with hunger, but those things are the least of my worries.

Tapping the band on my wrist, I check the time and see it's 6:53. Letting out a sigh, I rest my head against the wall, my heart is no longer beating as rapid as it was. I've been sitting here for hours, and nothing's happened. I know it's coming, but now that I can't see it coming, it doesn't feel as real.

That is...until it hits only a few minutes later.

The whole room shakes with the collision, resulting in us screaming out in fear. My heart is hammering in my chest, far more then it was when I saw it in the sky. This is actually happening, my world is exploding around me. Sorry, Dad, but I lived to see another one hit us.

I grab the nearest hand and squeeze it hard. The walls crumble down around us before small stones begin to pelt us. My mother pulls me into her chest, and whispers in my ear—"I love you." That's the last thing I remember before my conscious leaves me, and I'm floating into oblivion.

***
edited 1/13/19