May 19

I woke up at five because I couldn't sleep. The damage was worse than everyone thought. By the time the tides had retreated, millions of people were missing with casualty estimates rising up to the hundreds of thousands. I felt like I should've been more sad or shocked or just felt something about this, but I just couldn't. It's like I still can't believe that this has happened to us.

Mom managed to get a call with her family back in Taiwan. They're a bit shaken, but they're all right. They lived high enough above sea level to avoid the worst of the tides, but who knows how bad it's going to get? Dad came back in the middle of the night pretty shaken up from what I've heard from Mira. I don't think they found anyone alive. He also tried calling his parents. I think he's worried. They live in Mumbai, which is right next to the sea. I hope they're alright.

No one knew what was happening with school. The power kept going on and off, and there was no new information from the school. "Do you think we're going to school?" May asked.

"Maybe," I said. "I don't know."

"We're going to school," Mira said and entered the dining room. "I'll drop you two off at your high school."

"Is school even open?" I asked. "It might be closed because they'll be using it for holding all the injured people from yesterday."

"Maybe," Mira said. "I don't know. I think we should go anyway, just to see if they have any additional information. The internet is down right now, and the radio is mostly focused on the national news, so it'll be better just to see what the situation is like. It's what Mom and Dad would want."

"What are they doing anyways?" May asked.

"They're sleeping," Mira said. "Dad came back late at night from the beach. He wouldn't talk to me about it, but it's bad."

May looked a bit shocked, and I pushed the cereal around in my bowl. There was this stifling, awkward silence that blanketed the room. Mira looked down at May. "Are you okay? Did— Did you know—"

"I'm fine," May blurted out. "I'm fine. Let's hurry up and go to school. I don't want to ruin my attendance record."

Mira looked at her strangely and opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but then kept it to herself.

Mira drove me and May to school. We didn't talk much. The radio kept droning on and on about the tides and the Moon and the deaths. She turned off the radio and when we reached a curb, took the long way around to school to avoid the houses close to the beach, but I could already imagine the destruction.

School wasn't any better. The principal was out there directing the students to get off at an alternate drop-off lane since the main one was occupied by ambulances, sirens blaring as people in gurneys were carted off into the main gym, now transformed into a makeshift hospital with white tarps and rows of emergency workers clad in scrubs. He also said that school was still open, which made sense because it was on dry ground and was something normal and stable, so Mira drove around and dropped us off somewhere a little less grim even though the sirens still echoed throughout the air.

In my classes, there were pockets of students that were missing. I wasn't sure if they decided to skip school today or if they got, you know, swept away in the tides. There were students in the corner crying, some were just sleeping, burying their heads in their arms. Most of us were just staring at the whiteboard, still in shock of everything that happened, as if it wasn't real. I stared out of the window, watching the flashes of the police cars and ambulances reflect across the glass of the building next to the emergency lane. We all just thought that whatever happened just couldn't have happened.

One of our guidance counselors came in and told us that her offices and all the offices of the guidance counselors were open if we needed to talk, and our teacher cancelled all our upcoming assignments. She tried talking about the event, I could see it in her eyes, but no words came out. She sat in the corner of the classroom, crying quietly, and I felt bad that no one was comforting her, but sometimes, it was better to leave people alone. When the bell rang, we all shuffled out and headed towards our next classes, trying to pretend that it was a normal day.

But from the quietness of the passing period, it seemed that we had failed that test, and I heard that apparently some of our teachers were gone too. Everyone seemed to be speaking about the event in low whispers and hushes. During second period, we got an announcement. "A tragic event has befallen our community. To commemorate the losses, let us hold a moment of silence for all those who lost their lives in this tragic event."

Most of the time, people just ignored those moments-of-silence announcements like the ones that happened every year on 9/11. But everyone was quiet this time. Maybe it's because something bad actually happened to them, not just on some TV screen. Our literature teacher tried teaching us for the rest of the period, but I don't think anyone was really paying attention, so we got the rest of the period off.

During brunch, there were vigils being set up in the central plaza of our school. Everyone was just wandering around like zombies, mindlessly tapping on their phones. I saw Charles by the library. "Everything alright?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Yeah," I said.

We stood there for a couple of moments. The wind kicked up a little and the smell of salt in the air became stronger. Charles turned towards me and turned towards me and was about to say something, but the bell rang, and we both said goodbye to each other and headed to our classes as sirens wailed in the background. However, the bell ring didn't seem to register for many students, and I saw some of my classmates just sitting under the mulberry trees either staring blankly at their phones or crying silently. Others just used the opportunity to ditch class despite the fact that the vice principals were patrolling the plaza, but even they didn't attempt to stop anyone from leaving.

When I was heading towards math, I could see lines of students being marched towards random classrooms as first responders began wheeling gurneys into our classrooms. If our massive gym had gotten filled so quickly and that was the backup, I can't even imagine how many people must've been killed and injured by the tidal tsunamis.

In the middle of math class, I got a note from the office, telling me that I had a doctor's appointment today. It was strange because I doubt that any of the hospitals would be open for routine checkups, and I don't remember any doctor appointments being scheduled today. But I still grabbed my stuff and left. Everything was too sad at school and the sirens were driving me wild. I couldn't stand being there any longer.

I went to the office. May was there too along with Mira and Dad. "What are you guys doing here?" I asked.

"C'mon we have to go," Mira said. "Get into the cars."

Mom was driving our small electrical car. Dad took the van. I went in the van with Dad and Mira while May went with Mom. "What's going on?" I asked. "You guys still haven't answered my question."

Dad's face was blanched white. He looked sick. "The damage... What I saw last night. We have to prepare for the worst."

Mira looked backwards from the front of the car. "Here's a list of all the items we're going to buy once we get to the supermarket. Dad and I planned out who is going to handle what. You and May are responsible for getting bottled water and other liquids," she said. "Mom, Dad, and I are handling the canned and dried foods."

For some reason, I started to smile. Mira and Dad weren't arguing anymore. Maybe disasters do bring the best out of people. "What's so funny?" Mira asked.

"Oh, nothing," I replied. "Why did we have to go to school if you guys were just going to take us out?"

"It's my fault," Dad said. "We should've been out by daybreak."

"But that would be before any of the supermarkets opened."

"I know," Dad said. "We might be too late."

"After I dropped you guys off to school, I saw the lines at the store," Mira said. "Everyone's panicking right now. It's pretty crazy out there."

"The news is saying that we might not be getting power or gas anytime soon," Dad said. "We have to prepare just in case whatever's being said on the news turns out to be true."

We sat in the car in silence. We passed by big supermarkets, all of them jam packed with hordes of cars and people. It was like a warzone, people fighting over shopping carts and cars nearly hitting each other. I don't think there was ever a time when I've seen that many people scared.

"If we're going to prepare for the worst, we're going to need medicine too."

"Good point," Dad said. "After you get ten crates of water bottles, head for the pharmacy section. Most people aren't thinking about medicine."

Some color had returned to his face. I think all this planning makes him feel safer for the future, especially considering what he might have seen last night.

"We need to grab Tylenol, ibuprofen, and Benadryl," he said. "Anything else?"

"Vitamins, soaps, toilet rolls, shampoo," Mira said. "There are just too many things to keep track of that we may need."

"First the food and water," Dad said. "Worry about the other things later."

We sat in the car as it rumbled down the road. The sky was gray. I think it was forecast to rain today, which is unusual for May. But then again, it paled in comparison to what happened yesterday.

I asked Dad to turn on the radio. The news station was reporting all kinds of damage around the world. The coasts off of Britain and Ireland were flooded because of their unusually large tidal boundaries. The Netherlands and most of Venice had vanished under the seas. Parts of Australia and Southeast Asia are underwater and most of the Pacific Islands have been buried under the blue ocean. That's all I heard before he dimmed the volume. I don't think he wanted to hear any more of the destruction.

Dad slowed down as we passed by a big supermarket. There were cars sprawled all across the cracked parking lot. Police sirens filled the skies with flashes of red and blue, as the patrol vehicles sped up and down the streets, some of them heading into that nearby supermarket. We passed another supermarket, but there, the police car's window was smashed, and the glass littered the asphalt. Dad swore. "Why the hell are there so many people everywhere?"

"That one doesn't have as many as the others," Mira said and pointed in the distance. "There's a spot."

"But what about Mom?" I asked. "Where's she going to park?"

"Don't worry about it, Neal," Dad said. "Right now, the priority is going into the store and getting food and water. We have to prepare ourselves."

Dad was acting a little paranoid, but I think he was right. With the tides and the waves being so bad, I don't know if life would ever return back to the way it used to be for a while. We're better safe than sorry.

Dad signaled to turn into the parking lot and Mira turned towards me. "Here's some cash," Mira said, handing me a stack of hundred-dollar bills.

'Where'd you get these?" I asked.

"Remember the earthquake kit you made in 6th grade," Mira said. "It turns out that there was a lot of cash left in there for emergencies."

The parking lot was a mess. There were cars sprawled everywhere as lights flashed and people shouted slurs and swears. Dad stopped in the middle of the parking lot. "Get out," Mira said.

"In the middle of the road?"

"Yes," she said. "We got to get a head start. Dad will be right behind us once he parks."

"Okay," I said and opened the door, jumping out. "Don't forget about the bags."

"I've got them," she said and held them up. "Let's try to find a shopping cart."

People were running all around us. Most of them were heading for the supermarket, but other people were desperately stuffing bags filled to the brim with fruits and vegetables into their trunks. I scanned around the parking lot and found two shopping carts half-buried in a dark green bush. "Over there," I told Mira.

We ran for the carts like our lives depended on it. One of the shopping cart's wheels was a bit flattened and the cart didn't roll well, but we had to make the best out of what we got. We navigated our way through the parking lot and found Dad. Mom and May were waiting there for us. "We've only got two shopping carts," Mira said.

"Your mom and I will take them," Dad said. "We'll need to get as much canned food as we can."

"Do you want me to come with you guys?" Mira asked Dad. "Or should I stick with Neal and May."

"We're not children," May said. "We can handle ourselves there. Plus, if things are as bad as everyone says they are, we're going to need a lot of food."

"Okay," Mira said and looked at us seriously. "Remember, do not get separated. Stick with each other."

May gave her a thumbs up, and we hustled to the entrance of the supermarket. If the parking lot was a mess, it was a small one compared to the anarchy inside. There were people crowded everywhere, trying to stuff as much food as they could into their shopping carts while trying to ram their carts out into the parking lot. May and I weaved through the crowds. The floor was sticky with egg yolk and orange juice and wine.

I peeked through the aisles. Most of the fresh vegetables and fruits were taken along with the junk food and candies. There were a couple of people in the canned food sections, but the shelves were less bare than the chocolates and chips aisle. I wasn't sure why anyone would be getting junk food (end of the world binging possibly) or fresh vegetables during this crisis, but people are weird sometimes, especially when they're scared.

We reached the far end of the supermarket, where the water was stored. There weren't many people there but that's because they were fighting over avocados and expensive chocolates, but the few that were there were dumping cartons upon cartons into shopping carts. The massive water section that was normally chock full of gallons of spring and tap water was quickly disappearing.

Unfortunately for us, the cartons they stored water in were too big and too heavy to fit into the bags, so May ripped through the plastic wrapping and started piling individual bottles in the bags. I looked around. There were people eyeing us and already, I could see more and more people heading towards the section. I was worried that they might attack us. Who knows what crises do to other people?

When we both had two bags bulging with water bottles, we both turned and began running to the entrance of the supermarket. A young woman with a child tapped my shoulder, grasping a couple of cans of vegetables. "Please, can you spare me a bag? I've got two young children at home."

I hesitated and nearly gave her my bag. She looked like she needed it more than I did. "What are you doing?" May asked. "Let's go."

I mouthed "I'm sorry" to her and disappeared into the crowd, making my way out of the supermarket. I think we were supposed to pay the cashiers, but there wasn't anyone manning the stations, and some of them probably started buying supplies too. Even if there was someone at the counter, they'd get long trampled by the mob rushing in and out of the stores. So we decided to save our money and leave the store without paying.

"Why did you stop?" May asked.

"She needed it more than I did," I said. "She said she had two kids at home that she had to take care of."

"She's lying," May replied. "Lots of people will lie to make you believe their stories. They're just like the homeless people that say they want your money for food but really they want it for drugs."

"But doesn't it feel wrong?" I asked.

"It's war in there," May said. "And she's the enemy."

"The enemy?" I said. "Really? This isn't a video game or something. This is real life."

"Look," May said. "I don't think the world is going to end, but Mom and Dad do, so if we go up to the car and tell them we gave away all our water, imagine what their reaction would be like."

"I don't know..."

"Look," she said. "If it makes you feel any better, if she was able to convince you that you should give away your bottles, then there will be other people who would also feel the same way, and they'll give away their water. Not us."

Even after May's justification, I still felt guilty, but with all the chaos that was around us, I didn't have much time to dwell upon it.

Dad was next to the car, dumping cans of food in it. I spotted lots of cans of string beans and mixed vegetables and tomatoes. I didn't see Mira anywhere, but the trunk was pretty full, so she must've come in earlier. We dumped our water bottles in the trunk and watched them roll backwards and out of the trunk. "Shoot," I said.

May and I had to chase down the cans and bottles rolling around the parking lot. The wind picked up, and the bottles and cans scattered everywhere. We tried collecting as many as we could, but we lost a couple of them.

When we came back, Dad had built a barrier using the boxes that some of the cans came in to stop them from rolling out. "Dad, I don't think we're going to be able to get any of the water bottles efficiently because they're too heavy, and there aren't many people there, so May and I are going to go to the medicine section," I said.

"Okay," Dad said, and we scrambled back into the store.

There were ugly fights happening over meat and milk along with alcohol. The floor was slippery from the sticky residue of beer leaking from broken bottles and meat bits from torn meat packages.

"Gross," May said. "I'm going to need new shoes."

The pharmaceutical section was a bit more peaceful. Most of the medicine has been left untouched, so May and I began stuffing bottles upon bottles of everything: aspirin, cough syrups, anti-reflux medicine, Tylenol— anything we could get our hands on. As we rushed through the exit, I turned back and saw Dad fighting for some juice bottles. Someone had tried to reach inside his cart and grab them. The war inside had gotten worse as more people crowded around the entrance.

Mom and Mira were there in the car, stuffing in cans of sardines and brussel sprouts. "I don't eat those," I said as I dumped bottles of medicine in the trunk.

"This is all just in case," Mom said.

"There's not much food left in the supermarket," Mira said. "Most people are fighting over the good canned foods like tomatoes or pickles. Mom and I didn't want to get in the middle of those fights, so we took the less popular choices."

"But sardines," I said. "Seriously? No one in our family would eat those."

"We were just grabbing as much stuff as we can," she said.

"Are we just going to stand here and talk?" May asked, tapping her foot. "The medicine section doesn't have a ton of people, but it won't last for long."

"That's a good idea," Mira said. "Mom, you should stay behind to guard the car. People might start breaking into other people's cars to steal supplies."

"Not really sure how a five-foot two middle-aged woman is going to scare anyone," May said and shrugged. "But whatever?"

Mom ignored May. "Remember to make sure to get vitamins," Mom said. "All this canned food doesn't have the best nutrients."

"Yes, Mom," Mira said. "We talked about this in the car."

"Okay," she said. "I just wanted to be sure."

We turned to leave.

"Toilet paper too," Mom blurted out. "And band-aids and pads and probably a million other things. Just clear the shelves."

May flashed Mom a thumbs up, and we dived back into the chaos. The front of the supermarket was clearing up as the food quickly got taken, leaving behind trashed shelves and a food splattered floor. I stepped in a puddle of red. I hoped it was ketchup or pomegranate juice, not blood.

Mira, May, and I ran into the pharmacy section and grabbed vitamins and other medications and dumped them in our cart. Many of the people were starting to wise up, and the section began to crowd up as people began using their arms and just sweeping rows of random medications into their shopping carts.

When we came back again after dropping off the first round of medications to the car, the shelves were emptier. There were still a couple of bottles left, but Mira said that it wasn't worth it. Better for us to be safe than hurt. I didn't even know if the hospitals were still working. We moved on to the toiletry section.

The toiletry section was virtually empty. People so panicked about food and water and medicine that they weren't really paying attention to the other stuff like toilet paper or shampoo. We were able to grab a couple of big bunches of toilet roll and lots of shampoos and conditioners.

"Get benzoyl peroxide too," May said.

"We're in the middle of a crisis right now and you still care about acne," I said.

"Can't you get sick if you have too much acne, and it gets infected with bacteria?" she asked. "You know what, whatever?"

She turned to the shelf, grabbing a couple of bottles. "What else did Mom say we needed?" I asked May.

"Vitamins, toilet paper—"

"We already got that," I said. "What haven't we got?"

"Let me think," she said. "Oh, yeah. We're going to need band aids too. And pads. I'll grab that since it'll be weird if you did that."

May went into another aisle to grab band aids while I took my canvas bag and went into the band aid section. There was no one in that section, and I made sure to grab all different sizes of band aids. There were also those cloth strip bandages, and I stuffed a couple of them in my canvas bag. I knew that I was probably never going to use them, but it's good to have a backup, just in case.

We made three of these rounds before Mom decided that we were going to leave. "We don't have much space in the van," she said and looked at Dad. "You want to head home first?"

"Good idea. It'll take me a while to get everything unloaded," Dad said. "May, you're coming with me."

"No," she said. "I want to go with Mom and Neal."

Dad sighed. "Fine. I'll take the van home. Where are you guys going with the other car?"

"If everything is as bad as what you saw," Mom said. "We need to be fully prepared. I'm thinking about going to get some plants for our garden, maybe some batteries or matches because our lighter at home doesn't work well."

"That's good. That's real smart," Dad said. "You've got enough cash? I can make a stop at the banks if they're still working."

"I've got about four hundred dollars. May, Mira, and Neal have two hundred bucks each. We should be fine, and we don't want to risk the van getting broken into."

"What time do you guys expect to be back?"

"In a couple of hours," Mom said. "I'll check out the city. See if there's anything else we might need."

Dad and Mom said their goodbyes, and May, Mira, and I piled into the car, and we attempted to navigate our way out of the parking lot. Mom basically used Dad's van as a battering ram since people wouldn't move out of the way of a small car, but when faced with a van, with an especially irritated driver, then they actually listened. Dad spent the whole time yelling out orders to make people move, and Mom just chugged behind him, but glanced from side to side. I think she was worried about someone smashing our windows or something like that.

When we got onto the main road, Mom relaxed a little and loosened her grip on the steering wheel. "Where are we going next?" May asked.

"There's a little plaza a couple of blocks away," Mom said. "There shouldn't be many people there, and I think there's a little nursery over there."

There was silence in the car. We sped down the streets. All of a sudden, I just started thinking about the beach. I don't know why. It just stayed in my mind, and I couldn't help but to think about it. I thought about all the people that got taken by the waves and tides and how scared they must've been. I should've been horrified about pondering about the deaths of people at our school, but everything that has happened has just felt so unreal, like a bad dream, that it feels like it didn't happen at all.

"Was the beach that bad?" I asked Mom. "I know you weren't there, but Dad talked to you about it, right?"

Mom sighed. "We didn't talk much about it," she said. "If you want to know, you should ask your father about it."

Another awkward silence. Mira was staring at the clouds from outside the window, and May stared at the seat of the chair in front of her, thinking about who knows what. I cleared my throat.

"Can you turn on the radio?" I asked.

Mira fiddled with the knob to the music station. It blasted out some pop hits and for a couple of minutes, everything felt normal. Then, Mom turned into a plaza. She was right. It was mostly empty. "Who's going to go where?" I asked.

"There are a couple of clothing shops," Mom said. "May and I will go there. You can head for the nursery. We'll probably finish a little early, so we'll go to the convenience store. They should have some spare batteries and matches. We're going to need them if the power never comes back on."

"What about the car?" I asked. "What if someone breaks in?"

"We'll cover up the windows," Mom said. "I've got the sun-reflector panels. We can put them on the back windows. You guys go ahead."

Mira and I ran into the nursery. It was pretty devoid of people, though there were people speeding through rows of shelves, piling all kinds of random plants into their cart as fast as possible. The whole air was humid and there were plants dangling from hanging pots, lush and green. Blossoms overflowed from flowerpots and small butterflies flitted from flower to flower. "It's pretty nice in here," Mira said, her breath heavy from all the running that we were doing.

"Mostly nice and quiet," I said. "It's chaos everywhere else."

"Yeah," she said. "What should we get?"

"How much cash did Mom give us?"

"About five hundred bucks," she said. "More than enough."

We grabbed a cart and roamed the aisles, walking quickly to make sure we got everything before other people took it. We stopped next to a rack of tomato plants that only had a couple of flats in them.

"Tomatoes?" I said. "But May hates them."

"The end of the world is no time for us to be picky," she said and plopped all the flats of tomatoes and eggplants into the cart.

"Eggplants? They're pretty gross," I said.

"Same thing for you. No more picky eating," she said. I put two flats of zucchini and a flat of cucumber into the cart, but then I decided to add five more of each. More food is better, and our car had a lot of space since the cans were in the van. Mira came back and dumped onion and garlic flats into the cart while I picked up a couple of bell pepper and strawberries flats.

"We should grab some seeds," I said. "Just in case these plants don't make it."

"Good thinking ahead," Mira said. "I'll grab a couple of packets. The cart's pretty full. You can probably start heading for checkout."

She ran and disappeared behind a column of plants and ivies. I pushed the cart slowly towards the checkout and paused to grab a couple of pots of fresh herbs. Canned food is probably going to suck. Hopefully some fresh basil or thyme can make things better. I went to the checkout line, but I had to wait because Mira had all the money. "What are all these for?" the checkout guy said.

He was pretty young, probably a bit older than me and in college, with brownish hair and bluish eyes and looked pretty bored but nervous. He kept looking down at his watch, probably checking the time till he could leave, even though his manager seemed to be nowhere. "Summer gardening," I lied.

I knew that everyone else was panic buying, but I still felt a bit guilty about it, and I guess I was worried that I'd be judged for it. The radio kept talking about how we were supposed to remain calm and stay at home and not hoard, and I felt bad for breaking this rule, even if it was just a recommendation.

He nodded skeptically before turning to me. "Is it really as bad as the radio is saying? I've been stuck here all morning, but I've heard that stores are burning down and being looted and that all the beachfront houses are gone."

"Yeah," I said. "It's bad."

"Have you seen my manager?" he asked. "Tall, grayish-blond hair."

"I think he left."

"Oh," he said and sat back down before standing up and pacing. There was no one else in the nursery anymore, so we just awkwardly waited, no one saying a word until Mira came. She paid for the flats, and we left the store. "Good luck with the garden," the guy said and flashed a nice smile before hanging up his employee apron and grabbing his car keys. "Thanks for shopping here."

We went to the car. Mom was already there. She had a bunch of sweaters in her arm and was trying to dump them into the front of the car. May was next to her fuming. "It's the end of the world," she said. "Might as well buy actual good clothes, not whatever these are."

"We're not wasting money on expensive clothing," Mom said. "Even if it's the end of the world."

"I thought you didn't think the world is ending," I said to May.

"Well. I've changed my mind," she said.

"Okay," I said. "Whatever you say."

"Hey, Mira," Mom said. "Can you go to the convenience store to get some matches and batteries and whatever you want."

"Sure," she said and left for the small corner store.

Mom looked at the car and sighed. "How are we going to fit everything in here?"

Fitting everything in the car was a nightmare. The middle seat was taken up by the mountain of sweaters and socks and shirts and all the other pieces of clothing. Mom dumped some of the shirts and socks on the floor of the car. "Please don't step on them," Mom said.

"We're going to wash them, so it doesn't even matter," May said. "And also, they're cheap, so it's not like it matters if we ruin some of them."

"Well, it should matter," Mom said and muttered under her breath. "Spoiled kids."

"Hey," I said. "I'm not complaining."

The plants were a complete mess. Mom tried to fit them side by side in the trunk, but it was pretty clear that there wasn't enough space, so we had to stack them on top of each other. Mom accidentally knocked a whole flat of vegetables down, and dirt scattered across the floor of our trunk. Mom inhaled sharply. "When this ends, this car is going to need a car wash."

Mira came back with bags filled with batteries and matches. She even got some candy because we were all tired and could use an energy boost. "Getting these things was embarrassing," Mira said when she reached the car. "The lady at the counter thought I was a smoker or something. She was giving me some serious side-eye."

"Maybe 'cause you're actually a smoker," May muttered, even though as far as I know, Mira's never touched a cigarette in her life.

Mom grabbed the bags and stuffed them in the pockets behind the seats. "You can't get through life without being embarrassed a little," she said.

"Woah," May said sarcastically. "Look at Mom's super wise wisdom. I can't handle it."

"Thank you," Mom said. "Get in the car. We're leaving."

That was when I thought of something. Power is going to be an issue, so what if we generate our own power to supplement our loss. "Mom?" I said.

"Yes," she said.

"Can we go and buy something else?"

"We don't have any more space," she said. "So it better be important."

"I was thinking about solar panels."

"Go on," she said. 'That sounds like a good plan."

"I think that we can buy solar panels at camping stores. Most people aren't going to be there because everyone's so focused on food and water, and we've got one on the way to our house."

"And how do you know this?" May asked.

"I may or may not have been obsessed with zombie apocalypse books and done a little side research," I said.

"God, you're weird," May said.

"Not as weird as you."

"Says the weirdo."

"You guys aren't five-year-olds, so don't act like them," Mom said. "That's a great idea. The camping store has lanterns too and other supplies probably."

"There's no space back here," May said. "I've got barely enough room for my legs."

"We'll make space," Mom said. "Or I'll kick someone out of the car."

There was a moment of silence after that. "That was a joke," Mom said.

"Not funny Mom," I said. "Not funny."

"Kids these days, so hard to please," she muttered and turned into the parking lot.

We stopped at the camping store. The parking lot was somewhat full, but that's because there was another brawl at the supermarket next door. Mom and Mira went into the camping store while May and I stayed in the car because it was safer. "Should we get more food?" I asked Mom before she and Mira left.

"No," Mom said. "There's a good chance that most of the supermarket is empty, and it'll be dangerous. Just wait in the car, and we'll be back soon."

"Okay," I said and stared out of the window. Looking at the sun, you'd think that it was a normal pre-summer day, but if you took a deeper glance, you could see the soft outline of the Moon in the background. Everything seemed to change last night, and nothing feels like it would change back for a long time.

Mom and Mira came back carrying two solar panels cases and a crate of lanterns and miscellaneous items. "Were there more?" I asked.

"Yeah," Mira said. "But they're limiting the amount each person can buy to two only."

She grabbed a lantern. "But we were free to buy as many lanterns as we wanted to, and these solar phone chargers weren't completely restricted, so I got a whole bunch of them."

"What are we going to do with— How many of them are there? Five? Six? Seven?" I said.

'We'll figure it out," Mira said. "Better safe than sorry."

"True. True," I said. "The big question is how are we going to fit in the car."

May and I were forced to sit together on one seat. The seat belt would fit around the both of us, but I was sitting by the door while May sat closer to the center, so if we got into a crash, I'd crash into the seat in front of me while May would fly out of the front window. "If I die," May said. "I'm going to come back and haunt you guys forever."

"Whatever you say," I said, and May shot me a quick glare.

"Don't worry, we're driving slow," Mom said.

We drove slowly and cautiously. Some of the traffic lights weren't working, so everyone had to take turns. It felt like a solid half an hour before we reached home. It took us even longer to unpack everything. Cans kept spilling out of the trunk and some of the flats spilled over and dumped dirt in the car.

When we came back home, Dad had finished dumping all the cans into random cardboard boxes that were laid in our garage. Everyone was so tired today that we didn't bother to sort out the cans. That was a problem for later. All we did was take out the flats that had spilled soil everywhere in the trunk and tried filling the soil back in.

There was no dinner today. Mom went to sleep early, and Mira and May soon followed. We still had to go to school tomorrow, which was unfortunate, but Mom was insistent on that. "No skipping school, ever," she said.

"School might not be open tomorrow," May retorted.

"Well, you two are still going to get dressed for school," Mom said. "It's good to have some normalcy in your lives."

Before I went to sleep, I went up to Dad's office. He was probably working on something important. "Is our house safe?" I asked.

Dad turned towards me in his swivel chair.

"It will be safe," Dad said. "We're more than thirty feet above the sea level and the tides are not going to rise higher than that."

"But what about storms or full moon high tides or—"

"Everything's going to be fine," Dad said.

"But you were so worried about the tides this morning and—"

"Of course I'm worried, but that was before," he said. "We've got food and medicine now. We're better prepared and ready if things go bad."

"What I saw on the beach... The things that I saw on the beach were things of nightmares. I can see the images replaying in my head over and over again. It's why I was so shaken up in the morning," he continued. "But we've got things under control right now, well the best control we could possibly have, and all we need to do now is to wait and hope things get better and if they don't, we have a backup plan."

"Okay," I said. I didn't fully understand what he meant, but I think I understood the point of his ramble. Actually, thinking about it, I don't really understand it at all, but I get the spirit of his answer, lodged somewhere in between hope and fear.