A Heated Argument.

October 14th, 2057. 

Dear diary,  

I had another fight with my parents. I know it’s not just their fault that the world is like this, but I can’t help but somewhat blame them, blame their generation. 

Of course, I feel bad about taking it out on them now. I always do. I know that they’re suffering just as bad as I am, really, we’re all in the same boat. But I just wish life was easier. 

Today, we all sat together around the table. We had potatoes for dinner. Again. I can’t remember the last time I had anything different. Nothing else grows here so it’s all we eat – it’s all we can eat.  

The TV was on in the background. It isn’t of the best quality, we don’t have a good power source in the house and we’re not even allowed to have the light on that much, mom says it’s too dangerous. We only really watch the TV when the news is on, because it’s the only thing important enough to sacrifice the power usage for. We always have to be alert; storms often occur and it’s dangerous if you’re not expecting it. Everything is dangerous these days. 

Anyway, my family and I sat on the small, uncomfortable, wooden chairs that surrounded the matching table. Our dining room is small, it’s not even a dining room, it's just the back end of the kitchen. Everything is small in this house and even then, we can barely afford it.  

We listened carefully to the news anchor as he spoke softly about recent topics. I zoned out during this while I ate the potatoes, because the man’s voice was unbearably boring. Until dad waved his hand in front of my face and told me to pay attention. And it’s a good thing he did so, because the next thing I heard was the weather report. 

“Extreme weather warning: huge storm on its way from the west. Prepare yourselves and take precautions.” 

I sighed in annoyance when I heard what the man said, this will be the fifth case of extreme weather this month. “This wouldn’t be happening if people like you took better care of the world” I muttered under my breath, it was directed towards my parents even though I didn’t exactly want them to hear it. 

“What?” dad asked angrily. I sighed again “All I’m saying is that I think you should have taken better care of the world back then.” I replied, looking down at my plate, already regretting what I said as I knew it was going to spark an argument. 

“Well it wasn’t just our fault!” mom chirped in “We’re only 2 people we couldn’t do anything significant enough to change the bloody world!” 

“Oh whatever. That’s what everyone says! You act as if there was nothing you could do when you know there was! You know there were ways to protect the earth! Saying that you’re only one person is just an excuse for being lazy and you know it.” I snapped loudly. 

 I don’t know what came over me then, but I had shouted this across the dinner table and now there was no turning away from the rant I had started. The argument sparked – as I had predicted - as we began shouting back and forth.  

“Natalie, would stop being so ungrateful? I’m sick of you putting all the blame time and time again, it’s all we ever hear from you!” Dad scolded me as mom nodded in agreement.  

I stood up angrily from my chair and it made a painful screeching noise against the wooden floor as I pushed it backwards.  

“You’re sick of it? I'M sick of it! I’m sick of not being able to go outside for too long because the air is too dangerous for us to even breathe. I’m sick of only being able to eat potatoes because that’s the only thing that grows in these conditions. I’m sick of preparing for life threatening storms five times every month, terrified that it’s going to kill us! !’m sick of the countless floods through the streets that stop us from leaving this broken, powerless house! This could have been prevented if you had just left your own bubble for long enough to notice what’s going on around you.”  

At this point I was in tears. All I want a normal life. 

The room fell silent. I knew I was right, and they did too. They didn’t have any arguments left; they couldn’t retaliate any longer. I sat down quietly and looked up at mom. She was crying, and I immediately felt a pang of guilt in my stomach. 

 “I’m sorry.” she whispered, as the crystal-clear tears spilled down her face. “You’re right. It was our generations fault. We could have- we should have tried harder to face it. But we didn’t.” I looked up at her face, her cheeks were red and her eyes were puffy from the crying, her expression riddled with a guilt that matched the one I wore. She continued her sentence, “And you don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve the back end of the economy we ruined.” everyone remained silent, once again because they knew she was right. “I’m sorry.” she repeated. 

I didn’t know what to say, she had left me utterly speechless. I opened my mouth to reply to her, but no words escaped.  

After about two minutes of silence I slowly got up from my chair and walked over to the crying woman sitting opposite me, a wrapped my arms around her as she cried into my shoulder. 

I hated making her cry. But when I get started on something, I just can’t stop myself, I need to learn when to shut my mouth. I’m still incredibly guilty just thinking about her as write this, I do hope that we both feel better in the morning. But now the crying and shouting has taken up all my energy, so I’m going to try and sleep now. 

Here’s to another eventful family dinner. 

Sincerely, 

      Natalie.