May 20

School let out early today. We only had thirty minute periods and most of the time we didn't do much in class. More people were gone, maybe around twenty percent of our class was left. I guess everyone's worried about more flooding and decided to move away, possibly to higher grounds.

The gym was still filled with patients from the hospital, and temporary fences were installed all around the building to keep us out, though no one could resist gawking. Some of the classrooms were converted into shelters for the displaced families, so in some of my classes, we ended up sharing a room with another class. Everyone was pretty quiet though, so it didn't end up as bad as I had expected.

Charles and I took a detour when we were walking home today to see the flood zone. There was bright yellow tape around cones marking the borders of the danger zone. High tide was rising, and you could see the murky blue ocean water sweeping up the debris in the distance. On the other side of the border, the rows and rows of houses stretching across dozens of blocks were stained tan and the grass was soggy.

"Do you think it's going to be like this forever?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"That's a terrible answer."

"Fine. I do think it's going to be like this for a long time."

"Do you think the government is going to come and save us and maybe everything will go back to normal?"

"I don't think so."

"Some part of me is happy that this happened," he said. "Because now we've got a beach in our backyard."

I chuckled. I know I shouldn't have. Lots of people died from the flooding. But I think he was trying to lighten up the mood. "Wow," he said. "You just laughed about the death of thousands of people."

"Oh no," I said sarcastically. "I'm such a terrible person."

And he laughed, and then, even though I felt bad for making this joke, we were both laughing at something that wasn't even remotely funny because it's the only thing that we can do. We passed a whole line of cars and a horde of people by the gas station. Gas prices have risen already to nine dollars a gallon. I think all the offshore rigs got destroyed with the tides and most of the port cities are badly damaged from all the flooding.

I dropped him off at his house. I think he's getting worried about everything that's happening. This whole world around us is changing so fast. And it feels too fast for me to keep up with.

The power at home went out, so I couldn't open the garage door with my phone, but luckily, I had a house key in my backpack. There weren't any cans scattered on the floor anymore, and boxes seemed to be stacked neatly on the side of the house. Mira was sitting on the ground.

"Are you going back to college?" I asked.

"Mom wants me to stay," she said. "She's worried about all of us after what's happened, but I don't know."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You promise not to tell Mom and Dad?" she asked, and I nodded. "I have a boyfriend."

"Ooh, so scandalous," I said sarcastically.

"You know how Mom and Dad feel about dating," she said. "No college boyfriends!"

"Wait, didn't Mom and Dad meet in college?"

"Hypocrites," she said, and we shared a soft chuckle before everything became serious again.

"But I'm worried about him," she said. "Our college is a couple of miles away from the coast and I'm scared that it flooded. And with the power being out and cellular service down, I have no idea what happened there."

I didn't know what to say back to her, so I said the best thing that I could think of. "Hopefully, everything's going to be alright."

"Yeah," she said, turning away to push boxes. "I hope so."

May 22

I told Mom and Dad about the gasoline price increases, and I managed to skip out on driving lessons on the weekend. But now I'm stuck studying for the SAT subject test for math. Apparently, Mom and Dad think that even when the whole world is ending, studying for the SATs is somehow important.

We still don't have any power. It came on for a couple of minutes in the middle of the night, so everything began running and then faded away. We've got some solar panels charging in our backyard, but 32V of electricity isn't even enough to support a washing machine, let alone power an entire house.

But you know what's the worst part of losing power. It's not the lack of internet (though that's a close second)— it's that dang fire alarm that keeps beeping. I swear it's driving me crazy. I'm going to ask Dad to disable it tomorrow. I think I'm more likely to die of annoyance than from a fire.

Our governor says that he's working on fixing up the power system, so that everyone will have power by the end of the week. I doubt that's going to happen with all the damage to the oil rigs and ports. Maybe the government might finally start investing in solar and wind.

There's no school tomorrow. Mom and Dad are still going to work. They're taking Mom's electrical car. We've got a good amount of miles left on it, so I think we're fine.

I'll probably head to Charles' house tomorrow. There isn't much to do without the internet. Mom said to make sure to dump the laundry into the washer if the power turns on. I'll ask May to do it since she owes me a favor.

May 23

I biked to his house sometime this morning. Mira took the other bike to roam around town. She's worried about her boyfriend and I guess she wanted some time alone or something like that. Because of all these power outages, I don't think there was much for Charles to do. His house also didn't have power, so we decided to bike into town to see what was happening.

There were lots of people roaming the streets. I guess no one has anything better to do. All the cafes and stores were closed though, so no one seemed to be doing anything. There were papers fluttering through the air. I picked one up. It was a missing person sign. There was a young woman holding her dog and smiling like she had no cares in the world.

Charles and I looked at each other knowingly. "Do you want to head back?" I asked. "There's nothing much to do."

He shook his head. "No. Let's stay. We might be able to find stuff out."

"Okay."

I got off my bike. "I have to do something first."

I took the missing person sheet to the wall. There was an old poster for the summer festival taped on the brick wall. I grabbed the piece of tape and taped the sheet onto the wall, letting the summer festival one drift with the wind. I doubt that we're ever going to have a summer festival. I might as well use the tape for something more useful. It's the least I could do.

We biked around town for a bit. "Can you do this?" he asked as he let go of his bike handles.

"No," I said. "Isn't that really dangerous."

"There aren't any cars around," he said. "I dare you to do it."

"I'm not taking your dare."

"Chicken."

"I don't care."

"I think you do."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You owe me."

"For what?"

"The deal we made on Wednesday."

"No."

"No? What's that supposed to mean?"

"It was for something of equal magnitude."

"Exactly, it was made for this."

"No. That's dangerous."

"Fine. I'll remember this forever."

"Blackmail? That's a new low for you."

"That's what best friends are for," he said.

"You're so annoying sometimes."

"Someone has got to push you to do something new," he said.

"Fine." I said. "I'll do it."

I let go of the handlebars for half a second. It wasn't long enough for him. So I forced myself to let go of the handles for five seconds and nearly fell on the ground. This is why you shouldn't have friends.

Most of the stores and cafes were dark, and as we passed strip malls and plazas, I noticed that most of the grocery stores had their windows shattered and were deserted, with the couple that remained untouched being heavily guarded by security guards and police forces patrolling the streets. But even those places were filled with shadows and unpowered by electricity.

I don't think anyone had power except for the places with backup generators like our school or the hospital. There was a memorial being held in front of town hall with flowers and candles strewn across the ground. There were lots of people sitting and crying and being sad. We biked away from town hall. It was too depressing of a sight.

We got hungry for lunch and since nothing was really open (except for a heavily guarded stand that was selling ice-cream and popsicles for 70% discount), I went back home while he went back to his house. May said that the power came on for about fifteen minutes, but it went away. We had to lay out the dripping clothes in the bathtub and the railings on the stairs. It was a big mess.

We ate some canned beans for lunch. The microwave wasn't working, but our burners still lit up, so we used it to heat the limp, gray beans. Today was our first day eating canned food. I don't think I'll ever get used to eating it.

"Remember that time when we wanted the world to end so that school could be canceled?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Any regrets now?"

"Nope. The apocalypse is pretty boring."

"Yeah. What type of apocalypse would you like?"

"Something like a zombie apocalypse. I mean it'd be a lot more fun to whack the heads of the zombies with baseball bats."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how it works."

"Who cares?"

She shrugged and left some beans in her bowl unfinished. "You're wasting food," I said, calling out to her as she walked away.

"It's not like it matters. The world's not actually ending."

She disappeared into her room probably to get away from me. I hope she's right though.

May 24

Another day off from school, but it's resuming tomorrow. I guess everyone is pretty shaken up by everything that has happened.

May wanted to go out with her friends to see what town is like. I wanted to tell her that there wasn't anything special in town, but I decided not to. Mira woke up for a bit to move some boxes around to make space for all the random stuff that we bought from the supermarket, but she went back to sleep in the afternoon.

I was pretty bored. I wrote a note telling Mira that I left the house and placed it on the table. I walked outside. There were people hooking up generators to their houses while other people were just lounging around. With all the power out, no one can do much work anyways, so people are taking some time off. If it wasn't for the disaster at the beach, everything would look normal.

But the sharp smell of salt water broke the illusion. The ocean was so close to our houses now. The twenty foot tides pushed the waves a quarter mile inland, and the smell of brine and seawater was stronger than ever.

I wonder what happened to the people on the beaches. The waves must have rushed in, much faster and much stronger than our typical high tide and swept people away into the deep ocean. It must've been terrifying, feeling the cold water rush over you as you got dragged into the abyss, disappearing into the deep blues of the ocean.

I think that some people must've survived. We all took courses in swimming and floating. But Dad looked so freaked out that I feel like my optimism has been misplaced and that almost everyone died.

I don't know if I want to go to school tomorrow. Everything seems so depressing.

May 25

They were holding memorials in school today. There were pictures of students with wilting flowers and other little trinkets scattered around their bases. Tear streaked students were up there reciting speeches about how they thought that their friend always lit up the room with their smile and how they were always a source of positivity.

Only the popular people seemed to get this treatment. Some of the memorials under the loners consisted of plastic blossoms and cigarette ends. Some of them didn't have anything. I picked a dandelion blossom and placed it at the base of a picture. I didn't know who that person was, but I wanted them to know that someone still remembered them.

There were lots of substitute teachers in class. Finals are in another week, but some teachers have already cancelled them. There will be no history or literature finals to give students time to grieve for their loved ones. And best of all, there won't be any math finals since my teacher left school to take care of family on the east coast. I hope they're okay.

I don't think anyone was really doing anything in class. Most people were charging their phones since school was one of the few places still left with electricity or chatting with their friends. Even the substitute teachers didn't care. Some of them just left class in the middle of the period. I don't think anyone was in the mood to work.

Occasionally, in the middle of the period, a group of students would pop in to remind us about the charity donations for people who were affected by the flood. I know we have plenty of spare clothes, but I don't think Mom and Dad would allow me to donate them.

But I asked them anyway. "Do you think we could donate some spare clothes to some of the people who lost their homes during the floods?"

Mom sighed. "I think that it's good that you're looking out to help other people, but I think there are people in other communities that were less affected that could help more."

"I agree with your mom," Dad said. "Other people will be able to help them better than us. The city will probably move them into new homes, and they'll pay for everything."

"But what about the other people?" I asked. "Like down in Mississippi or Florida that got hit pretty hard by the floods and their governments are pretty much ruined."

"If we were in a different situation," Dad said. "I'd donate to them. If the electricity came back on and everything went back to normal, then I'd give away a couple of spare jackets or blankets. But not now."

"Okay," I said and went to my room. I don't know about Mom and Dad's choice not to help other people. I feel guilty about thinking that maybe Mom and Dad are right actually. Other people might be better equipped to help than we are. But just thinking about that feels wrong.

May 26

We got an announcement that tomorrow was going to be the last day of school. Not like it was going to make much of a difference. School is already pretty much over.

They said that there was declining enrollment, and that teachers and students were simply not showing up. Most of my teachers cancelled their finals except for chemistry. She scheduled it for tomorrow, but I already have a 97 in that class, so I don't really need to study.

I've got As in the rest of my classes except for Math, but I got almost an A, so the school is going to round it up. Charles and I said our goodbyes. He wasn't going to school tomorrow. Our friendship is mostly confined to school, and we don't usually see each other during the summer. "I'll see you next school year," I said.

"If there even is one," Charles said.

"I'm sure that they'll figure something out," I said. "You doing anything interesting?"

"I don't know," Charles said. "We'll see."

"I thought you had your summer planned out."

"Well the whole thing with the Moon blew everything apart," he said. "So I'll figure something out."

"And if not," Charles added. "I'll just tell colleges that I'm applying to that I was in a disaster, so there wasn't much that I could do about it."

"Okay," I said as we approached his house. "Bye."

"Bye," he said and went into his house.

One more day of school left before freedom.

May 27

Goodbye school. I'm not sure how school is going to be next year. They're putting up posters for the start of school since no one has electricity and access to their emails. I think they're assuming that everything is going to get better in time.

I just realized that they probably cancelled school because of power issues. I guess the city wanted to save power for more essential places like the hospital or the police station. But honestly, who cares? I'm done with my sophomore year of high school!

The bad year of high school is coming though. Hopefully, I'll do well (or pray that it never comes).

May 29

Summer feels different with the power being out. No playing video games on the computer or scrolling through news articles online. Most of the time, I'm just laying around doing nothing much.

I know I should be doing something though. Anything really. Don't colleges want you to spend your summers volunteering or working at some job? That's a pretty stupid requirement. We should spend our summers destressing, not slaving our lives away.

Mom and Dad are really emphasizing the idea that college is coming up and now, it feels closer than ever. They want me to be prepared, but all I feel is stress and anxiety.

May 31

There was a newspaper on our front door today. It was from a small local paper. Normally, everyone in my family just ignores them because it's easier to get news online than on paper. But I was extremely bored today. Nothing to do at all, so I picked it up and began reading.

There was a section about our town. I mostly skimmed the article. There were quotes from the head chiefs of the firefighters and police along with some statements from the council people and the mayor. But what hit me the most were the images.

There were drone pictures of the before and after. In the before picture, I could see everything that made our coast our coast. A little wooden pier at the edge of the beach that we all had to visit for our annual 4th grade end of school year field trip. The big mansions that lined the coastal area— the ones that the extremely rich people at our school had that everyone was envious of. The small park that Dad made me play tennis in. The small marts where we'd buy erasers and other supplies for middle school. The rows and rows of houses filled with people that I talked to, but never actually knew.

And then I looked at the after photo. Everything near the beach— the mansions and piers— were gone, leaving only tips of roofs with thin necks of palm trees sticking up. As you move away from the water, the houses gradually appear, more roofs showing, some more walls, maybe even the driveway. But I could see the damage done by the ocean, and now this disaster feels more real than ever.

"Will they ever fix this?" I asked Mira.

"Maybe," she said. "But there's no point. Seawalls won't be able to stop anything."

"So we should just leave them there?"

"Yeah," she said. "They're going to be able to fix it in the future."

"Do you think they're building sea walls around your college," I said. "I mean there's a lot of people liv—"

"Look, Neal," she said. "Can we not talk about this?"

I can see the worry in her eyes. "Okay," I said.

We sat there for a couple of awkward minutes before I left. This silence was unbearable. I could almost hear the roar of the waves.

I cranked on the radio and listened to the anchor talking. Rescue options are limited due to the intensity of the disaster and protests are breaking out everywhere because people are saying that the government is helping the richer people rather than the poor majority. More flooding, more deaths, more lives lost, more houses destroyed, more children orphaned.

Is this all there is to life anymore?