ALONE

"Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say."

I repeat the phrase in my mind, playing with the next line as I wander down yet another empty street. "Nobody mentions the screams of those who are left behind... nobody considers the haunted wailings of the abandoned souls unlucky enough to be left behind..."

I feel a shiver go down my spine. I think that last one has a sort of poetic feel to it. Can poetry fit into a science fiction novel? I've been working on my novel for weeks now and can't seem to get past the first chapter. My brother always told me I overthink when it comes to my writing, and that's why I can't seem to finish any story I start. I think he's right. But I also think it's awfully hard to write a captivating story when you have nothing captivating to write about, and for the longest time I found nothing captivating in the busy streets of Honolulu. I'm not a people person. I like to keep to myself and I don't mind hours of silence. That being said, nothing about a crowded city much appealed to me. It was all so predictable. I narrowed people down into 27 categories by the time I was 16 and at the age of 19, I had yet to meet anyone who fell outside of my categories.

I pull out my phone to add the latest line to my novel and find myself staring at the lock screen. It's a picture I took of myself standing on the beach three weeks after the world ended. I felt it captured perfectly the utter emptiness I feel. I shake myself out of my thoughts and unlock the phone, which turns out to be even worse when I see the home screen. It's a picture of me and my younger sister Michelle. Seeing it reminds me of the day it was taken...

"Avaaaaaa!" Michelle's whine reaches my ears and I can't help but chuckle. "Stop laughing at me and help me!"

I run over to the bench where Michelle is surrounded by hungry cranes who have caught wind of the sushi in her lap. They scatter as I approach and I throw myself onto the bench next to my sister, still laughing. Upon seeing the birds retreat, Michelle hesitantly joins in on the laughter.

"How was work?" I ask, shoving a dragon roll into my mouth.

She shrugs. "Dallin got mad because I was late again, and he didn't think that my excuse was valid."

"What was your excuse?"

"Dad lost the car keys again so we had to hotwire the car, and then we hit traffic." Michelle shoots me a look, gently finishing her tuna roll like the kind and humble princess that she is.

I roll my eyes. "You have to admit, it does sound a bit far fetched if you don't know Dad."

Michelle nods, handing me a napkin to wipe my messy hands. "I'm honestly surprised he hasn't fired me yet. I probably would have by now."

I take the trash from her and we walk over to the nearest street can. "It must be your good luck." I give her a sly smile.

It's Michelle's turn to roll her eyes. "If anyone in this family had good luck it would be you, Ava."

"I'm not so sure about that. Dad seems to be making good progress with his latest theories on black holes."

"Right." Michelle chuckles, "Because everybody cares so much about black holes..."

I laugh and look at my sister, which turns out to be a mistake because it leads to me falling flat on my face after tripping over my own feet. Michelle snorts in an extremely unladylike manner and joins me on the ground, rolling with laughter. We lay there for a minute and Michelle takes a selfie of us. Once we regain our composure we race each other home-Michelle in the lead-only to discover that there isn't much left of it. Michelle screams as she's pulled towards the massive black twister that is tearing apart our childhood home and I simply stand there too stunned to move....

I shake myself out of my intrusive thoughts yet again, and continue walking down the once bustling streets, towards the empty wreckage I now call home.