NaNoWriMo (Day 6 of 30) "Strangers in the Dark" (48,001 words left after I made some minor additions to previous days)

I hope everyone remembered to set their clocks back last night, giving you a whole extra hour to write today! I had some technical difficulties at first today. I took off my space bar to clean underneath it and then just tried shoving it back on. I thought I had it snapped all back into place, but my space bar was only working about half the time and allmy wordsstarted looking likethis!!! Turns out I bent the two tiniest little hooks underneath the key, preventing my space bar from fully being pushed down. So, I got a needle and lifted the first hook back into place. Then, when getting the second hook back to normal, I snapped the needle, lodging a piece underneath one of the snappy-doohickies that holds the space bar into place. So, then I had to get that out and still reshape the second hookie-thing again. FINALLY! I got everything into place after I removed three other keys and one of the snappy-dookickies (<--What a fabulous word!!!). Suffice to say, everything was fixed and this is what I wrote before, during, and after the technical surgery I performed today...

Strangers in the Dark

(Chapter One Continued)

The basement seemed to tremble as every bump upstairs knocked dust and cobwebs from the ceiling down onto my blankets. Dad reached for one of Jensen’s little league baseball bats that had been stored on a rickety shelf. When he grabbed the bat though, a box full of mitts and balls came with it, hitting the ground, signaling the people who broke in above us. And just as Dad positioned himself at the bottom of the stairs, prepared to protect all of us from anyone who dared come down to the basement, the familiar squeaky hinges on the front door sounded and an engine roared to life.

“Stay here,” Dad commanded, already a few feet up the stairs. He returned but a moment later. “We need to repack. Find anything we can use. And pack light. We’re walking out of here now.

The burglars had taken the packed bags we left by the front door. They contained almost everything, our food, water, warm clothes, kerosene lamp. Luckily, Dad brought a backup down into the basement with us the previous night. It would be enough for all of us for a few days, but the burglars also got Dad’s car keys, making off in it while vandalizing Mom’s to the point that it was impossible to drive. It would be harder and longer to get out of town.

With the backup pack now split between Mom and Dad, and Jensen and I both carrying a flashlight and a small back pack of just a few water bottles, a bit of food, and a blanket we walked out our shattered front door, leaving everything else behind for looters and squatters alike. We were homeless now, or at least that was the feeling. We made it to the end of our front walkway, before Dad made a b-line towards our neighbor’s house just to the right of us. It belonged to an old man by the name of Mr. Scrivener. I shined my flashlight ahead of Dad. It was still too dark to see much of anything. Mr. Scrivener’s door was busted open like ours. Dad asked us to wait while he went in to check on things. A part of me was getting really tired of waiting behind. I knew Dad was just trying to be safe, but this world was crumbling. I knew he wouldn’t be able to protect us from everything.

Dad returned soon enough with another bag. All of us stared, waiting for some clue as to what he found. He looked to Mom and shook his head. “I think he tried to confront the people that broke in. They pushed him and he hit his head. He still managed to drag himself to this.” He handed to the bag to Mom, who then opened it. It was full of food and juice boxes.

Mom’s eyes began to fill with water. “What is happening? Is it really that bad that people are killing and dying for juice boxes?”

Jensen and I both moved closer to her, me grabbing her hand and Jensen clinging to her sweater. Dad kissed her on the cheek. “Come on, Honey. We have to keep moving.”

Somehow, I felt like that walk to the border of the city was symbolic of my entire life up to this point. It began at our house, the only home I have ever known and grew up in. Then, there was following my parents out of the house. I idolized them and everything they taught me: love intelligence, strength, courage, and independence. Just a few blocks down from our house I could make out my old elementary school playground through the dim. It was empty for the first time. Even in the snow, kids would still try to swing or climb the monkey bars. Jensen had graduated from the fifth grade there less than a year ago and was half way through his sixth year, but he still visited from time to time, forcing me to come with him. I was five months away from graduating from high school. I couldn’t wait either. Then, the world ended and no more school. Jensen was crushed. He loved school and had so many friends. I, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to get out. They idea of leaving those teachers and the people in my school behind, then heading off to college, not too far from home, but just enough, was everything. However, at that point, I was pretty much convinced that college wouldn’t be an option anymore. And, as the bullet sounds began to ring through the air, a perfect symbol of the violence of this new world, I was dragged all the way up to the present in an instant.

(791 words)

Well, regardless, it was a pretty productive day. I also made a few MINOR additions to the previous entries like mentioning that Talis and her family live in a townhouse and that Jensen has shaggy blonde hair just to let you know. Until next time!