[ WP ] `` When suddenly , the lights go out . Everywhere ''

“ You ’ re shitting me. ” 
 
 Brian sits back in his chair. He looks over his shoulder at me with a face full of horrified disbelief, then his eyes dart back to the computer screen. As I read over his shoulder, my mind begins to process the words I ’ m reading. 
 
 “ …thousands dead… ” 
 
 “ …riots in downtown… ” 
 
 “ …breaking into homes and killing… ” 
 
 “ …worst act of domestic terrorism in history. ” 
 
 “ …residents advised to stay indoors and lock doors and windows... ” 
 
 I feel sick. I almost collapse when Brian gets up and steadies me. His eyes lock onto mine and bring me back to reality. 
 
 “ Jen, JEN. Look at me. We have to check the house and make sure it ’ s locked. ” 
 
 “ Right, ” I say, “ Check the house. Right. ” 
 
 Brian puts on a strong face. “ Listen, I ’ m scared too. Honestly I all I want to do is crawl into bed and wish this all away. But first we have to check the house. ” He pauses for a moment, then adds, “ The attacks were mostly downtown, right? None of those guys have been seen around here yet. We ’ re safe. Too far west of the city. ” 
 
 Brian ’ s confidence melts away after he finishes speaking. He turns away, as if to compose himself. “ I ’ ll check upstairs, how about you look around down here? ” I ask him softly. 
 
 He looks at me and nods. I walk out of the den and into the foyer, up the stairs, where the bedrooms are. I look into our master bedroom. A quirky combination of messy and pristine depending on where you looked, as always. In the corner I see my guitar and Brian ’ s notebooks. Everything in its proper place. I walk over to the window. Latched. I give it a tug. Firmly latched. 
 
 Out in the hall again, I yell down to Brian, “ Everything okay? ” 
 
 “ Yep, ” he calls back, “ everything in order here. ” 
 
 “ Alright, be right down. Checking the guest room. ” 
 
 I walk across the hall into the guest room. It reminds me that Brian ’ s mother is due to visit next week. Or rather, was. I doubt she ’ ll be traveling near us any time soon, at least until things get under control. I pull on the first window. It creaks, a reminder of the house ’ s age, but remains in place. I walk over to the second window and pull it open. 
 
 *Wait, pull it open? * 
 
 My eyes widen. 
 
 “ Brian? ” I call out. No response. “ Brian?! BRIAN! ” I call again and again, each time more panicked than the last. I fly out of the guest room and bolt down the stairs. I see the basement door open. He must be downstairs, I think, he must. I take a second to compose myself. I stand at the doorway to the basement. 
 
 “ Brian? ” I call again. I try to stop my voice from cracking, but that fails miserably. 
 
 After a moment, I hear a response. “ Jen, you okay? ” His voice. A wave of relief washes over me. 
 
 I take a deep breath. “ Yes, I ’ m- ” 
 
 “ -just fine. ” a soft voice responds from behind me. 
 
 My mind barely comprehends the words when suddenly lights go out. Everywhere.
