If the Darkness Says We Can

It's day 2.

My computer is almost out of power. Soon enough I'll have no choice but to turn it off and never see it again. That's what I had to do with my phone, after all. That thing died right away, since it couldn't hold a battery for the life of it. It's still on my bedside table though, staring up at me with it's cold black face.

It's day 5.

I sit in the dark, staring at the ceiling. Since the lights died it's hard to stay up past nightfall. That means more time to sleep, mom jokes. But I liked the night. I liked staying up as late as I could, when everyone else was asleep. Now I just go to bed as soon as I can't see anything.

It's day 8.

I want to scream. I hadn't had any cold food in two days, not since our fridge went out. At least I know how to make a fire, and we have a old firepit out back. That doesn't make ice cream so well, though. Ugh, I want ice cream. Will I ever get ice cream again?

It's day 12.

I already hate this. The weather's already too hot, and now we don't have any air conditioning. Mom's gone through almost every book in our house trying to find something to do. Either that or she's been trying to find a job. It's hard to find a job as an electritian when the lights won't come on. Hopefully she finds something soon, and we can continue our lives. At least, if the darkness says we can.