An Irish Goodbye

The 6:00 am alarm rings. Its ringing clangs against my skull and makes my brain hurt. Why does it sound so loud? I throw my pillow over my head to drown it out. The alarm continues. I sit up now very annoyed by this rude awakening.

"Mom!" I yell, not caring if I wake up my younger siblings. There is no response and the alarm continues. What the heck was going on? "Is this some kind of joke?" The ringing became to take on an eerie feeling. The sounds seemed hollow and echoed off the walls of the house. The walk to my mother's room seemed very long. I tentatively round the corner. "Mom...?"

Her bed was empty and properly made like she allows does before she leaves for work. I start to wonder whether she woke up earlier than her alarm and forgot to turn it off before leaving. I go over to turn it off. The ringing ceases and a heavy silence occupies the house. It becomes deafening. I can hear the rush of my blood and the pounding of my heart. Something just felt...off. I go to check on my sibling's room. I'm surprised they didn't wake up from all the noise.

I go into their room and don't find them either. My heart leaps to my throat and I choke back a sob. Something was most definitely wrong. Their beds were made the same as my mother's. Something they were never good at doing. This had to be a joke.

I head downstairs in hopes they are all waiting there for me. They'd see how scared I was and laugh. Maybe we'd sit down to talk about this memory when we were older. Or maybe they were gone and a note would be sitting on the kitchen table for me. Nothing to freak out about.

Again they are not there, and there is no note waiting for me. No amount of strength could have kept in my tears. I break down right in the middle of the kitchen floor and it is only 6:10 in the morning. This could not be happening right now. I scream for help, someone who might hear me and ask what was wrong.

The neighbor's dog starts to bark. I scramble to stand and rush outside. My hair was tangled, my face was probably red, and I was still dressed in my pajamas. The first time in my life I do not care who sees me like this. I bang on the neighbor's door and yell their name. The only response was the dog barking. No one seemed to be coming to open the door.

"I still must be dreaming. Yes, that's what all of this is. I'm dreaming," I say to myself. I was trying to rationalize the situation while calming down the panic that was kicking its way through my body. There was just no other explanation. I want to go back to bed. To wake up from this dream, but something keeps me from moving. There were no sounds of traffic. No sounds of a lawnmower, construction, or the possible chatter from early risers going for a walk. Everything was so quiet. The only sound was the barking of this stupid dog and the chirping of birds. I bang on the door again. Nothing. I run over to the next house and bang on that door in hopes of something. Any other human to come out and answer me. I try the door, but of course, it is locked. I check a window, but all the shades are down.

A ridiculous thought crosses my mind and I pick up a rock. The situation seemed dire enough to have reason to do it, so I hurl the rock as hard as I can at the window. It shatters and glass sprinkles on the grass. I wipe away the remaining shards and hoist myself up. The floor creaks beneath my weight. I move towards the center of the house and call out. The same silence I felt in my house settles over the room. I rush upstairs to check every bedroom. Each one was empty and all the beds were made.

I become blinded by fear and I trip over my own feet. I rush outside and start banging on every door not believing what was happening. But no matter whose house I went to there was never any response. I find myself in the middle of the street with all hope vanishing. There really wasn't anybody here, I was all alone.

I scream at the empty world.

...........

I mark off another day on the little calendar I keep with me. It's the only thing that keeps the insanity at bay. It is Monday, April 29. Today marks the 7 month anniversary of when I realized I was the only person on Earth. I have traveled through five states, and am more in shape than I could have ever wished for.

I grieved for a very long time. I would sleep in my bed and wonder why this happened to me. I would think of all the memories of my life and asked if this was supposed to be my life now. Living alone with no true path to follow? After almost a week of crying, I got up, and figured that even if this was my life, what was the point of wasting it in bed? I could do anything I wanted to, and I thought why not live it out to the fullest? I shaved my head, grabbed a few belongings, and a family picture. Then I headed out into the world. Every once in awhile I would knock on doors with the tiniest sliver of hope that someone was there. But there never was.

I think the only good thing about having no one else around was that everything was free. I took whatever I thought was necessary for my travels: food, water, hygiene products, this little calendar. I've had lots of time to think about how this could have happened. I thought that there was a mass alien abduction, and they just forgot me. I thought I woke up in an alternate universe. I thought maybe I was in a coma. Whatever it was, it was my life now.

I blast Rihanna's "Only Girl" on my phone. I only allow myself two songs every month to reserve the battery and thought today was a good day to belt out to a song. I shift my backpack to a more comfortable position and dance as I walk. If I was in any other situation, I'd hate that it was a Monday, but today was a nice day. The sun was out and a slight breeze was in the air. I was somewhere in Arizona looking at my surroundings. Empty cars and houses. Stray dogs and cats milling about who managed to escape the confines of their house. A few blocks ahead is a gas station and I think to stop by to restock my bag.

As I get closer to the gas station I start to think I am hallucinating because up ahead was the outline of a moving object. Fear floods through my body and I race inside the gas station. Was it a wild animal? An alien? My heart pounds in my chest and everything in me says to stay hidden. But curiosity gets the better of me and I dare to peep my head out the window. The figure draws closer and passes the gas station. I almost drop dead right there. It was no animal or alien, but in fact... a boy. He had dark sandy hair and beautiful tanned skin. Was there a chance I wasn't the only one? Or have I really lost my mind? My legs seem to move on their own as they walk me out of the gas station and make me run towards this mystery boy.

"Hey!" I yell.

The boy jumps and whirls around holding a long knife in his hand. His eyes widen and his mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He puts the knife away and squints at me like he doesn't quite believe I'm real either.

"Are... are you real?" he asks me.

Tears spring in my eyes and I rush to embrace him. He returns the hug and we both stand there crying and laughing at this miracle.

"I thought I was the only one left," I say. I wipe at my eyes and look at him. I've never been happier in my life.

"Are you kidding? I thought I was the only one!" he says. "I've been walking around the whole country for months hoping to find someone." He looks at me and smiles. "And I finally found you."