Lest Darkness Befall You

Anthony ate a bowl of cereal and hurled himself onto his bed. He searched the bunches and folds of his bedspread until he found his remote. "Gotcha bitch!" The light flickered. He flipped to the animation network, just in time for his favorite cartoon. Must be my night! He smiled to himself, still in awe, as the main character unknowingly drove his vehicle around the bend into a different dimension. The light flickered again.

He checked his phone battery. Fully charged. He toyed with the idea of grabbing the pillar candle Tiffany had bought for him for nights such as this one. He hated Sacramento in the summertime, the rolling blackouts were the worst. He had, of course, found his most comfortable spot. Snug as a bug in a rug, he was. He didn't want to move, but he didn't like the pitch dark. Despite his logical mind telling him, there was no difference other than light, there was something eerie about it. He had never admitted it to anyone out loud, but... it scared him.

He peeled back his warm, cuddly cocoon and nearly jogged to the linen closet. There it sat, with a pink candle lighter. He grabbed both and hurried back to his room. The flickers became more frequent. He locked his bedroom door and set the blackout kit on his nightstand. Feeling more secure, he climbed in bed and struggled to reclaim his sweet spot. He drifted off to sleep, convinced the power company will have solved the problem by morning.

Anthony's cell phone woke him up at 8:50 a.m. He yawned and hit the snooze button. Five more minutes, he thought and rolled over. When the alarm went off at 9 a.m., Anthony resigned to get ready. He first performed a few neck rolls. It was killing him as usual, he knew he needed a new mattress, but had resigned to first acquire the new PS5. He stood to stretch without opening his eyes, for this was his routine.

He peered through squinted eyes to trudge to the bathroom. He felt an eerie feeling wash over him. "Wait." He fully opened his eyes and felt flutters in the pit of his stomach. Something wasn't right. He opened his blinds. "What?" The sky was dark. "There must have been a power surge, messed up my phone. It couldn't be 9 o'clock." He retrieved the analog watch his father had given him. The golden hands were positioned to read 9:30.

"Can't be." He checked the clocks on the microwave and the stove, Both read the same as his watch. It was 10 past 9 a.m., and the sun, still, had not risen. Maybe it was 9 at night? That would mean he had slept for two days. Both his phone and computer indicated he was in the a.m.

He rushed to his television and stopped short. Maybe they were in the middle of a nuclear blackout? He panicked, In that case, broadcasting and radio would be knocked out...Maybe his electronics were wrong. He powered on the TV and was greeted with the sportscast. "Okay..." He frowned. Why the hell weren't they mentioning this mushroom cloud, or whatever it was? He watched a little while longer. Still no mention of the murky gloom just outside his window. He switched to another news station. More sports news, and a hot weather girl, but void of any news concerning the absence of sunlight. Was it just him? He grabbed his phone to call his parents.

“Your call cannot be completed as dialed...” A mechanical female voice ridiculed him.

“What?” Anthony hung up and tried again.

“Your call cannot be completed as dialed--” Anthony ended the call and checked his parents' contact information. It was the same number he had called just yesterday to wish his younger brother a happy birthday. He thought to call Tiffany, but...

“Fuck it.” He was beginning to panic. This was bigger than a breakup. He needed to hear a familiar voice; any voice other than his own.

The phone rang. “Hello?”

Anthony breathed a sigh of relief. “Babe, I know you're mad at me--” Tiffany's innocent giggle cut him off.

“J K! I'm not available right now, leave a message and I'll hit you up when I feel like it!” She laughed again before the beep. He had never heard that recording before. Then again, my calls rarely go to her voicemail. She must be really pissed. He thought for sure she would have picked up, especially during a time like this.

"Tiff, It's me. I was calling to make sure you're OK. Please, call me when you get this message, I love you." He hung up and peered outside. He was shocked to see shapes of people traversing the streets. Some were walking briskly, as if late for work, and some were casually strolling while sipping coffee. He even saw a few people biking. "What the hell?" He frowned. "They're all acting like this isn't even happening." He peered further down the street for any sign of at least one sane person who saw what he saw. He would have expected to see a hysterical mob, people screaming, crying out for answers, walking the streets with rifles. Fear. There was no sign of it in any one of them. They were all behaving as if this wasn't happening. "Maybe they're all in shock." It was the only logical explanation he could conjure. Or, he mused, Maybe he was the crazy one. Maybe he was dreaming, maybe that was it. After all, if the sun had actually gone out, the news would definitely have mentioned it. It would have been all they were covering.

He pinched himself hard. The pain told him he was alive. Common sense told him he was fucked. The world had turned on its ear, and no one seemed to mind. He needed to think. There had to be a logical explanation for this. He couldn't be the only one who saw it, but then again, why wasn't anyone else panicking? Why couldn't he reach his parents? He tried Tiffany again and reached the same fate as the last time. "Shit, Tiffany, call me back, babe. This isn't the time to be acting like this! I'm sorry, I didn't even mean any of that shit last night, just call me back!" He hung up and checked the time again. 9:50 a.m. He decided to try to call into work, not really expecting an answer.

“Hello?” Gerald's gruff voice answered.

Of course, I'd be able to reach him. Anthony thought, but he was glad to hear another live voice.

“Gerald, yeah, I was calling you to let you know I won't be in today, obviously... What do you think is going on?” Anthony attributed his supervisor's silence to shock.

"I don't know..." Gerald sounded flabbergasted. Anthony was happy to hear someone else as confused as he was. There was comfort in company. "I don't know where in the hell you get off telling me you obviously won't be into work today! I'll tell you something, guy: if I don't see you here within the next fifteen minutes, you'll be out of a job! The nerve!"

“Huh?” Anthony's eyebrows knitted together. Did Gerald not see what was going on?

“Huh?” Gerald mocked him. “What's so confusing about it?”

“Do you not see what is going on around you? We might be in the middle of some type of nuclear warfare!”

“You're gonna end up on welfare if you don't get your ass down here! I don't want to hear any excuses. Everyone else showed up to work, accept the shining star who thinks he can talk his way out of everything! The buck stops here. You've got 12 minutes, now, to get in here or get fired." The phone beeped four times. "What the hell?" Anthony stared at the phone for a few seconds, unable to believe what was happening. He tried his parents several more times to no avail, before collapsing onto his futon. "This cannot be happening." He sighed and closed his eyes tight. He just needed to breathe. He needed to think. He needed to figure this all out... but the more he tried to make sense of it, the less sense it made. He grabbed his jacket and his keys. He was going to drive to his parents' house. He knew his father would have an explanation. At least he hoped he would. He needed someone to make sense of all this.

His phone vibrated. It was a text message from Tiffany. He was surprised she hadn't called, but he allowed himself to exhale a little. He figured she was probably still pissed, but she would get over it. She had to. The sun hadn't risen that morning. He thought of picking her up on the way to his parents' home. Maybe we can put our heads together and figure this whole thing out, he thought. He opened the message:

Who is this?

Anthony lifted a brow. “Hmm?” His stomach churned a little, his chest tightened a bit. He began to type his response. What the hell do you mean,' who is this'? This is Anthony...

A couple of minutes went by, before she responded, Oh... what's up.

“'Oh what's up?'” He read the message out loud, more confused than ever. His leg began to bounce. He didn't know what emotion he was feeling. He had gone through so many, he had lost track. He couldn't let this one go, though. He called her up.

The phone rang for a while before she picked it up. It kindled his anger. He knew her phone was in her hand, they had just been texting. “Hello?” She sounded confused.

“What's with the act?” He spat.

“What act?”

"'Who is this'? Really? With all that's going on right now? I call to check on you, and you give me attitude? I mean, I know you're still pissed at me for the way I ended things, but... We can deal with that later. Right now we need each other." Anthony's breath was short.

Tiffany was quiet for a while. A long while. Anthony checked his phone to make sure she was still on the line. “Is this... a joke?” She laughed a little.

“OK, why-- how could it be a joke? What-- OK, I know you're mad. You have every right to be, but, really. You can't throw away three years, and pretend it didn't happen, just because you're pissed.”

“Whoa... I think you're mistaking me for someone else. Maybe you selected the wrong contact. Surprised you still have me saved in your phone. Sorted flattered.”

“Why would I delete you from my contacts? It's only been like 10 hours.”

“Are you OK?”

“No! The whole world is backward, and you wait until right now to pull this unbothered shit!”

“Anthony?” She softened her tone, not in love, but as though she were speaking to a small child. “We've never dated. We were just friends... a long time ago. Maybe you need sleep or something.”

Anthony was silent. He didn't know what to believe. Was she playing games, or... what the hell was going on? He heard a man's voice in the background asking her who she was talking to.

"No one babe, just an old friend." Her voice sounded far away and muffled, as though she had placed the phone under something. A fire grew in Antony's belly, as he listened to his girl submit to another man. “OK?” She returned, her voice was clear. It was crystal clear. It was clear to Anthony that what she had said was true for her. It was clear that something had happened to the world, and he wasn't in on the joke.

“I'll leave you alone.” His voice was flat. His ego was bruised. His head was spinning.

“Cool. And, hey, can you not call me again, please? Thanks!” She hung up. Anthony's mind snapped. He reverted to his previous plan. Parents. That's all he knew. That's all he would allow himself to think. One goal: parents. He grabbed his keys and left.

He walked out into the endless night and opted to numb himself to any reservations of the dark. No one else seemed to notice. Society hustled and bustled as usual. People checked their watches, and smoked cigarettes, texted, talked on cell phones, blissfully unaware... or were they aware? He didn't know or care. He just hoped his parents were immune to this fog everyone else seemed to be flourishing in.

When he finally rounded the corner to his childhood street, he felt relief in knowing his family was near. He jogged to their front door. His longing for them grew with each step he took. He just wanted to embrace his father, and let the tears he had been holding back flow onto his mother's shoulder. He made it up the stairs, to the front door and inserted his key. The lock did not release. It would not turn. He double-checked to make sure it wasn't the one to his apartment. Nope. That one was silver. The one to his parents' home was gold. He inserted again. There was resistance every which way he attempted to turn the key. "Fuck this." He rang the doorbell, once, twice, and more times to count. He banged on the door. "Dad!" He screamed toward his parent's window. "Dad!" He yelled so loudly, his throat ached.

"Who's there?!" He heard a familiar male voice, but it wasn't his father. Who had come to the door? Had he done something to his family? Was he armed? He'd have to be to get past his dad. He would have had to have caught his father off guard and shot first. Anthony's dad was an army man who believed in protecting his family, by any means necessary. Anthony took a step back and searched for something hefty enough to double as a weapon.

The door swung open. The man was brandishing a rifle. He was a little over six feet tall, with a vaguely recognizable face. "Sam?" Anthony whispered.

"Who's asking?" The man pointed the firearm at Anthony. He raised his hands to show he wasn't a threat. He wasn't an enemy. He was his brother.

“It's me, Anthony.” He took a chance and advanced toward the man into the porch light.

“Anthony?” The man slowly lowered his weapon. “What?”

"Sam." Anthony fought back tears. He felt heavy. "I don't know man." He couldn't hold back any longer. He let the tears flow and fell into his brother's chest. Sam felt sturdier than a fifteen-year-old should feel. His embrace was reminiscent of his father's: strong, robust, comforting; no matter how weird it was that he looked, sounded, and felt like a grown man. His little twerp brother was a grown man, somehow. "Where's mom and dad?"

Sam held him a little longer before guiding him into their family home. "Have a seat." He helped him sit down on is mother's brown suede couch. He could have sworn it had been black, but it didn't matter. He was just glad to be home. "Have you eaten? I have some leftover pizza I can throw in the microwave.”

“No, I don't have much of an appetite. I just want to see mom and dad. I wanted to know what they thought about what the hell is going on out there.” Anthony pointed toward the front door.

“Yeah, man, it's great to see you, to see you're OK. I was worried, man.”

“I was worried too, I still don't know. But, it feels much better being here with you guys. Where is dad?” Anthony looked toward the hallway.

“Anthony... “ Sam's shoulders slumped a little.

"Sam? Where are they?" Anthony tried to stand, but Sam steered him back to the couch with a gentle hand. "I'll never know how you do it. Lord knows I wish I could, but..."

“What is it, Sam? Where are mom and dad?”

“Ant, they've been gone for years.” His face was stern. “They died when we were kids, man! Shit-- I know you don't like me asking you, but have you been taking your meds? I haven't seen you in years, and after the last stint, I thought... I thought I lost you too man.” A couple of tears ran down Sam's rugged face.

“OK, WHAT?” Anthony's eyes bulged. Nothing was making sense. “MEDS? I don't take meds! Am I dead or something? Like, is this hell? This can't be a prank... it would take too much to pull off.”

“What?!” Sam looked confused.

“What the fuck, man!”Anthony's voice boomed throughout their childhood home. “You're a grown man, my girl blew me off, the sun never came up, what on earth is going on?!”

“Anthony, calm down!”

“What the fuck is going on!!!” Anthony snatched away from his brother's embrace and began to pummel him. Sam grabbed Anthony and held him tight. His embrace was strong and containing. He held Anthony until he tired and slumped back into the couch, sobbing.

"I don't know what happened with your girl, but your brother is right here beside you, and I'll never leave. I got all night, let's talk about it." Sam put a burly arm around his brother's shoulder, "Is that cool?"

Anthony shook his head and mopped his nose with his sleeve.

“OK,” Sam straightened up. “Let's start with this, where do you think you are right now?”

“I honestly don't know, Sam.” Anthony wept.

"OK. You mentioned, 'earth'... Where is that?"

The End.