With the light growing dimmer and the sirens beginning to falter, my anxiety began to creep towards me from the shadows. They were supposed to be back by now, I thought to myself. Mother and father had left to grab grandma Rosalie from the nursing home in the center of the city, they said that now was the time we needed to be together as a family. That was over four hours ago.

 A crying that started as a low babble and then turned into a high pitch scream echoed throughout the dark house. Quickly I got up from the living room couch and sauntered to the nursery. Sandrah was lying in her crib thrashing her limbs in the air while tears streamed down her face. Standing next to the crib was Andrew. Andrew was tall for his age and slightly more mature than he should be, but then again that might be from the circumstances we lived in. I picked up Sandrah with her blanket wrapped around her and began to sway back and forth, this made the screaming die down but not go away. I looked quickly at the hanging clock on the wall but it was no use; it had stopped working along with the clock on the oven and microwave a week ago, but from the cries I knew it was her feeding time. “Andrew go get the bottle,” I demanded while trying to distract the baby as I bounced her up and down. “There’s none, mom was going to bring some back,” he whispered with his head down. I nodded at the new information and carried Sandrah out of her room and towards the kitchen. 

When the power went out during the first wave of strikes we had tried our best to preserve the food that needed to be refrigerated with the hope that the power would return, but it never did. The remains of the fridge food sat in a cooler that was shoved under the kitchen table, though most of it had spoiled by now. Andrew, who had followed us to the kitchen, stood in silence as I handed him the baby. I pulled the cooler out of its hiding place, opened it, and fished around in the slightly cool water that had once been ice cubes. Finding the milk carton, I pulled it out of the water and opened the lid. I put my nose over the opening and instantly thrusted the carton away from me. The smell made my stomach roll and nausea filled my mouth. I abandoned the milk on the table and went back to the cooler. 

After searching and only finding moldy cheese, fuzzy bread and slimy meat I abandoned the cooler. I pushed it back under the table and turned to the pantry. As I rummaged through the leftover non perishables, a bag of avocados shone out like a beacon. I quickly grabbed one from the bag and pulled it towards the counter. The fruit was well past ripe and bruised where I grabbed it, but it was still edible nonetheless. Carefully I cut the avocado into small cubes before grabbing Sandrah from Andrew and placing her in her high chair and putting the avocado bits before her. The crying stopped as she ate the cubes. 

I left Andrew to watch her while I worked on closing all the curtains. Even though the clocks stopped working, I knew it was getting late. I looked out the window in the sitting room, the sky glowed a dark red of fire, the smoke blocking out the sky. Small pieces of ash rained down over the houses, covering our rose garden in a blanket of white. I could almost compare it to winter. When the snow fell thick along the ground, Andrew and I would race each other outside; the first to get there would get the best snow pile, and the snowball fight would commence. When either of us got too cold we’d head inside where mother would be reading in her lazy boy and father was making some kind of treat. It was usually pie straight from scratch, we had chickens and a garden with strawberries back then. But once the snow stopped falling and the rain moved to other parts of the country, the plants shriveled and died, and the chickens began to die soon after. There are no more winters now. 

As I went room to room, shutting all the curtains and blinds, I made a practice of not looking outside. It was too much to see the empty driveway, the ash covered houses and the distant  flashes of light. By the time all windows were hidden it had become dark and eerie in the house. I collected the scattered candles that we had been using for light the past nights and brought them downstairs to the living room. We had been sleeping all together for the past four days, our mattresses pressed up against each other and against the walls of the living room. Sandrah was the only one that still slept in her room, she wasn’t plagued by night terrors like the rest of us. The only space that remained empty was in a small area by the stairs. This was where we would play games before bed, we played monopoly first, then clue, and then an uno championship. There would be no games tonight.

 I spread the candles around the living room and kitchen before lighting them, brightening the rooms with the soft orange glow. Andrew cradled Sandrah in his arms as he sat on the couch, humming softly. We both knew what was going to happen, but we avoided the subject like the plague. “I think we should bring the crib down. It would be fun if Sandrah got to sleep with us.” For the final time. I added the words in my mind. Andrew smiled and nodded but didn’t speak. 

As I brought the crib downstairs I realized there was no room to put it, except the space reserved for our games. I entered the room and rested the crib against the wall and looked at Andrew. “Hey clear out the game space, we’ll put the crib there,” I told him while trying to catch my breath. Andrew didn’t move from the couch but his eyebrows arched lower and his lip curled. “Come on this is heavy, just lay her down in the center of one of the mattresses.” I reassured him and waited.

“No,” He replied with his eyes down.

“Come on let's go, you need to clear it,” I demanded, my voice getting louder

“No they’ll want to play games when they get back.” 

“They aren’t coming back!” I shouted, blood roaring in my ears and making my face flush.

“Yes they are! Yes they are! Yes they are!” Andrew shouted back. He looked up from the floor and I could see the tears streaming down his face. I stood, stunned by the strength of his voice when angry.

Sandrah, still clutched in Andrews' arms, began to cry, interrupting the silence. 

“They are coming back,” he whispered, before hugging Sandrah closer to him and rocking her back into calm. Tears ran freely down his cheeks and onto the baby, but she had stopped crying and began to coo while she played with his now accessible ears. I put the crib back into the kitchen before moving my mattress out of the living room and replacing it with the crib, there was no way I would be able to sleep tonight anyways. Silently Andrew placed her in the crib and sat next to it, rocking it gently as she settled down. His eyes still glistened but the tears had begun to dry and all that were left were the salt trails. I wish dad was here, he would know what to do, I thought to myself. Dad was the gentle one, he's the one that kissed the bandaid, made the food and sang while cleaning the house. It’s almost like my parents silently decide to switch gender roles. My mom was the breadwinner, she fixed the sink when it leaked, and would man the grill on sunny days.

While we sat in silence and listened to the distant bangs and booms of the collisions, my stomach growled and groaned, interrupting our quiet. Andrew laughed at the noise, clearing the fog that weighed down on us both. “I guess it must be dinner time then,” I grinned before getting up and walking towards the kitchen. “Come help me decide what to eat,” I called over my shoulder as I approached the pantry. Hearing the quiet steps of Andrew behind me, I began to unpack the pantry handing all food items to him to put on the table. Tonight we can splurge, I decided, there will be no use for this food come morning. 

Once the pantry was emptied, I turned to the table to look at our findings. There sitting on the table was a pack of saltines, half a sleeve of Ritz crackers, one can of tuna fish, a bag of avocados and a thing of instant rice. Compared to the last few nights, this was heaven. “Why don’t we eat downstairs tonight?” I asked Andrew with a smile. He nodded and grabbed all the food he could and went back to the living room. I followed him down, my arms equally as full, but with two water bottles and a jet boil. 

Once the rice was left to three bites, tuna gone and all but 5 and a half crackers eaten, we rolled onto our backs and let out a groan. We were far from full, but food was still food. 

“Mmm, Do you know what sounds so good right now?” Andrew asked with his hand on his stomach. 

“What?”

“One of those ice cream sundaes that Thomas used to make when it got too hot for anything but ice cream.” 

My mouth salivated at the memory of eating something cold, and flavorful. 

“Do you remember when he made all the plates for us and ended up forgetting about them?” We both laughed at the memory of the melted ice cream dripping all over the table.

Andrew struggled to talk in between his laughter, but still managed to speak. “And then, then we found the dog licking it all up.” 

“And then poor Maggy was sick for like a week,” I responded, and instantly we both fell into laughter again, our shoulders shaking and eye’s crinkled. “You know what we need?” I Asked while sitting up. Andrew shook his head, still laying on his back. “I’ll be right back.” I responded before bounding up and taking the steps to the upstairs two at a time. 

As I reached my parents bedroom and opened the door, my smile fell at the sight of their now empty room. I slowly approached the bedside table on the side where my father slept. Opening up the sticky drawer I reached in and grabbed the plastic bag full of bright colors. My father always had a sweet tooth, but mother disapproved of candy, so he hid them in his drawer. I had caught him once with a bright red sucker when mom was at the store, and begged him to share. 

As I closed the drawer I noticed a small bottle sitting on top; it was sleep medicine. They had told us it would be fast, almost no pain, but it would not happen quickly, there would be enough time to be scared. I opened the bottle carefully and peered inside. Instead of pills there were small gummies shaped like fruit. I read the instructions and pocketed a few of them. 

Once I reappeared downstairs, I emptied the bag of candy onto our parents mattress and watched Andrews eyes light up. “What! Where did you find this?” He asked gleefully. Smiling, I shrugged and began to dig in.

“Won't mom and dad be mad when they come back?” 

I shook my head in a no and placed a cherry flavored sucker in my mouth. Without another second to delay, Andrew began to unwrap a chocolate bar and devoured it like an animal. Sandrah, seeming to sense the excitement, began to wake from her short nap and started to babble. Standing up, I went and grabbed Sandrah from her crib. She was in a surprisingly good mood considering the rancid smell that came from her diaper. “Time to change you,” I muttered to myself before going back to the nursery, a flashlight gripped in my hand. 

Once she was changed I held her in my arms, rocking back and forth. Happy as ever she made attempts to grab at the sucker sticking out of my mouth, laughing when I pulled away and made funny faces. Andrew joined in by tickling her sides, and soon we were all giggling together. 

It must’ve been an hour that past before Sandrah began to yawn and the candy had run out. Once we put her back into the crib, we blew out every candle except one. We kept the one at the head of the bed lit, allowing us to see each other, but also inviting the dull red light from outside to filter in through the curtains. It would be soon now, I knew that, but I didn’t want to be alone. I hated myself for being so selfish; he doesn't deserve this, I thought to myself. Making up my mind, I quietly grabbed the gummies from my pocket and gave Andrew 3 of them, not enough to hurt him, they would make sure he slept soundly tonight. “Here, these are special,” I whispered to him as he took them from my palm. His eyes shone as he ate them faster than the other candy. Without a word we laid down and I wrapped my arms around his small body. He was shaking slightly, from fear or crying, I couldn’t tell. “Hey bud everything is going to be ok.” I whispered to the back of his head, my voice catching on the last syllable. He nodded his head in agreement but the shaking continued, I quickly grabbed mother and fathers comforter that they had brought down along with their mattress and put it over us, enveloping us in the smell and comfort of childhood.

“Hey, how about tomorrow morning I make pancakes, those were always your favorite.” 

After a few sniffles Andrew muttered his response.

“Only if you add chocolate chips like dad does.” 

“Of course I will.”

Smiling faintly, I started to hum and stroke Andrew's hair as he drifted closer to sleep. 

It didn’t take fast for the sleep medication to kick in; soon his shaking stopped and his breaths evened out. Now the only sound that filled the room was the noise of outside. There were no birds anymore, just the distant booms and vibrations of debris hitting the earth. Once the consistency of the impacts became more regular, I knew it was going to be soon. That's what they said on the tv before people rioted. They said that the governments of the world had failed at destroying the meteor, the only thing they managed to do was break off small chunks that would begin to rain down and destroy cities in the coming days. It would take approximately 8 days for the meteor to reach earth. I remember mother and father clinging to each other as the broadcast announced the life expectancy of every living thing on this planet. Today was the 8th day. 

I knew how it would start: first it would hit, causing a shockwave to rock half of the planet, everyone would feel it. Cities would crumble as fire and dust launched into the air. “We are lucky,” Mother would say “we are in the close zone, It will be fast.” I knew this was true, because if you were unlucky enough to escape the initial wave of destruction, the impact of the meteor on the tectonic plates would be disastrous, causing most of every volcano to reach eruption, filling the sky with ash and fumes. Soon all natural food sources would die out and all that would be left was whatever food you had stored, Thus leaving you to die of hunger or thirst.

I braced for the final impact for what felt like an eternity, but one cannot rush death. I let my mind wander to where mother and father might be, what happened to them, and why they didn’t come back. They were supposed to come back. I thought angrily as finally the flood gates I had kept closed for days opened and spilled over my cheeks. I felt it first, the ground shaking and the whole house seemed to sway, Sandrah woke from her sleep and began to cry. There would be no use in comforting her now; it was too close. I squeezed my eyes closed and hugged the child in my arms closer to myself. Mother and father would be proud.