What Comes After

May 24

Another day off from school, but it's resuming tomorrow. I guess everyone is pretty shaken up by everything that has happened.

May wanted to go out with her friends to see what town is like. I wanted to tell her that there wasn't anything special in town, but I decided not to. Mira woke up for a bit to move some boxes around to make space for all the random stuff that we bought from the supermarket, but she went back to sleep in the afternoon.

I was pretty bored. I wrote a note telling Mira that I left the house and placed it on the table. I walked outside. There were people hooking up generators to their houses while other people were just lounging around. With all the power out, no one can do much work anyways, so people are taking some time off. If it wasn't for the disaster at the beach, everything would look normal.

But the sharp smell of salt water broke the illusion. The ocean was so close to our houses now. The twenty foot tides pushed the waves a quarter mile inland, and the smell of brine and seawater was stronger than ever.

I wonder what happened to the people on the beaches. The waves must have rushed in, much faster and much stronger than our typical high tide and swept people away into the deep ocean. It must've been terrifying, feeling the cold water rush over you as you got dragged into the abyss, disappearing into the deep blues of the ocean.

I think that some people must've survived. We all took courses in swimming and floating. But Dad looked so freaked out that I feel like my optimism has been misplaced and that almost everyone died.

I don't know if I want to go to school tomorrow. Everything seems so depressing.

May 25

They were holding memorials in school today. There were pictures of students with wilting flowers and other little trinkets scattered around their bases. Tear streaked students were up there reciting speeches about how they thought that their friend always lit up the room with their smile and how they were always a source of positivity.

Only the popular people seemed to get this treatment. Some of the memorials under the loners consisted of plastic blossoms and cigarette ends. Some of them didn't have anything. I picked a dandelion blossom and placed it at the base of a picture. I didn't know who that person was, but I wanted them to know that someone still remembered them.

There were lots of substitute teachers in class. Finals are in another week, but some teachers have already cancelled them. There will be no history or literature finals to give students time to grieve for their loved ones. And best of all, there won't be any math finals since my teacher left school to take care of family on the east coast. I hope they're okay.

I don't think anyone was really doing anything in class. Most people were charging their phones since school was one of the few places still left with electricity or chatting with their friends. Even the substitute teachers didn't care. Some of them just left class in the middle of the period. I don't think anyone was in the mood to work.

Occasionally, in the middle of the period, a group of students would pop in to remind us about the charity donations for people who were affected by the flood. I know we have plenty of spare clothes, but I don't think Mom and Dad would allow me to donate them.

But I asked them anyway. "Do you think we could donate some spare clothes to some of the people who lost their homes during the floods?"

Mom sighed. "I think that it's good that you're looking out to help other people, but I think there are people in other communities that were less affected that could help more."

"I agree with your mom," Dad said. "Other people will be able to help them better than us. The city will probably move them into new homes, and they'll pay for everything."

"But what about the other people?" I asked. "Like down in Mississippi or Florida that got hit pretty hard by the floods and their governments are pretty much ruined."

"If we were in a different situation," Dad said. "I'd donate to them. If the electricity came back on and everything went back to normal, then I'd give away a couple of spare jackets or blankets. But not now."

"Okay," I said and went to my room. I don't know about Mom and Dad's choice not to help other people. I feel guilty about thinking that maybe Mom and Dad are right actually. Other people might be better equipped to help than we are. But just thinking about that feels wrong.

May 26

We got an announcement that tomorrow was going to be the last day of school. Not like it was going to make much of a difference. School is already pretty much over.

They said that there was declining enrollment, and that teachers and students were simply not showing up. Most of my teachers cancelled their finals except for chemistry. She scheduled it for tomorrow, but I already have a 97 in that class, so I don't really need to study.

I've got As in the rest of my classes except for Math, but I got almost an A, so the school is going to round it up. Charles and I said our goodbyes. He wasn't going to school tomorrow. Our friendship is mostly confined to school, and we don't usually see each other during the summer. "I'll see you next school year," I said.

"If there even is one," Charles said.

"I'm sure that they'll figure something out," I said. "You doing anything interesting?"

"I don't know," Charles said. "We'll see."

"I thought you had your summer planned out."

"Well the whole thing with the Moon blew everything apart," he said. "So I'll figure something out."

"And if not," Charles added. "I'll just tell colleges that I'm applying to that I was in a disaster, so there wasn't much that I could do about it."

"Okay," I said as we approached his house. "Bye."

"Bye," he said and went into his house.

One more day of school left before freedom.

May 27

Goodbye school. I'm not sure how school is going to be next year. They're putting up posters for the start of school since no one has electricity and access to their emails. I think they're assuming that everything is going to get better in time.

I just realized that they probably cancelled school because of power issues. I guess the city wanted to save power for more essential places like the hospital or the police station. But honestly, who cares? I'm done with my sophomore year of high school!

The bad year of high school is coming though. Hopefully, I'll do well (or pray that it never comes).

May 29

Summer feels different with the power being out. No playing video games on the computer or scrolling through news articles online. Most of the time, I'm just laying around doing nothing much.

I know I should be doing something though. Anything really. Don't colleges want you to spend your summers volunteering or working at some job? That's a pretty stupid requirement. We should spend our summers destressing, not slaving our lives away.

Mom and Dad are really emphasizing the idea that college is coming up and now, it feels closer than ever. They want me to be prepared, but all I feel is stress and anxiety.

May 31

There was a newspaper on our front door today. It was from a small local paper. Normally, everyone in my family just ignores them because it's easier to get news online than on paper. But I was extremely bored today. Nothing to do at all, so I picked it up and began reading.

There was a section about our town. I mostly skimmed the article. There were quotes from the head chiefs of the firefighters and police along with some statements from the council people and the mayor. But what hit me the most were the images.

There were drone pictures of the before and after. In the before picture, I could see everything that made our coast our coast. A little wooden pier at the edge of the beach that we all had to visit for our annual 4th grade end of school year field trip. The big mansions that lined the coastal area— the ones that the extremely rich people at our school had that everyone was envious of. The small park that Dad made me play tennis in. The small marts where we'd buy erasers and other supplies for middle school. The rows and rows of houses filled with people that I talked to, but never actually knew.

And then I looked at the after photo. Everything near the beach— the mansions and piers— were gone, leaving only tips of roofs with thin necks of palm trees sticking up. As you move away from the water, the houses gradually appear, more roofs showing, some more walls, maybe even the driveway. But I could see the damage done by the ocean, and now this disaster feels more real than ever.

"Will they ever fix this?" I asked Mira.

"Maybe," she said. "But there's no point. Seawalls won't be able to stop anything."

"So we should just leave them there?"

"Yeah," she said. "They're going to be able to fix it in the future."

"Do you think they're building sea walls around your college," I said. "I mean there's a lot of people liv—"

"Look, Neal," she said. "Can we not talk about this?"

I can see the worry in her eyes. "Okay," I said.

We sat there for a couple of awkward minutes before I left. This silence was unbearable. I could almost hear the roar of the waves.

I cranked on the radio and listened to the anchor talking. Rescue options are limited due to the intensity of the disaster and protests are breaking out everywhere because people are saying that the government is helping the richer people rather than the poor majority. More flooding, more deaths, more lives lost, more houses destroyed, more children orphaned.

Is this all there is to life anymore?