I woke like most days, hung over, sore in strange places, and hungry. Getting something in my belly was always top priority, unless my bladder decided to interject. I stopped for a moment, focused on my body, giving it a quick mental prodding. Nope. Pissing is temporarily offline. I can eat in peace.

My dirty feet squeak on the faux-wood floor of the hallway leading to the kitchen. Usually something easily annoyed chimes in right about now. Odd. So, I tried a little harder, dragging my soles against the synthetic. I didn’t care if anybody else cared, I had fun doing it. So I smiled and squeaked, and then arrived at the kitchen.

Not even a coffee pot perking. Just eerie silence. And then I noticed how dark it still was. I checked the time on the microwave, 10:37am. Hmm. Maybe it’s supposed to rain today. I just need food. I looked back at the time and noticed the numbers were blinking, like we had a brown out during the night. Again, I really don’t give a fuck. Just let me find some food.

Cabinets, cans and dry stuff. Fridge, rotten produce and spoiled milk. The fridge stank bad. I almost wretched before slamming the door shut while holding my breath and swallowing hard three times. I moved to lean over the sink, just in case. Once my breathing normalized I tipped my head up a little. The front window on the far side of the living room was cracked. I shuffled toward it, stumbling like I was in a dream. I was oddly reminded of Charlotte’s Web, but with a chill running up my spine. In the cracks of the glass was a word, three letters, D-I-E. I sucked in my breath so fast I almost fell backwards. Luckily the recliner caught me, but I fell back hard enough to kick out the foot rest. At least I was now comfortable while simultaneously being terrified.

“MOM! DAD!” It became my only mantra. I screamed those words over and over, in every room of the empty house that stank of rot. I screamed until my throat started to bleed. And then I just moaned and sobbed. Time became irrelevant until my undernourished body decided to pass out and try to recuperate.

I woke up some time during the night. I assumed this based on the fact that it was dark, really dark. Power was completely out. The constant hum of ambient electric noise was gone. My ears didn’t know how to process the over-abundance of silence. So they filled my senses with an echoing ring. Phantom noise for a phantom house.

Thank the gods the toilets still worked. And there was plenty of toilet paper. Yay. But I still had no food. I had to leave the house. I had to go out and see what was going on. I did my best not to speculate. But the mind will wander. So I filled my time with singing badly while washing and dressing. I kept singing random shit and verses of nothing right up until I faced the front door. I exhaled while wiping my sweaty palms on my dirty jeans. I undid the deadbolt, then the latch lock. I took another deep breath, held it, then turned the knob.