[ WP ] It started to rain , and it never stopped .

On Monday, they said expect a light drizzle. On Tuesday, they said bring an umbrella. On Wednesday, they said the boat left at 12 o'clock. Today, I'm sitting down at a lunch table in an unfamiliar cafeteria, on board an unfamiliar aircraft carrier, on an unfamiliar body of water they just named the `` Great American Sea''. 
 
 When we were told to leave our houses, I had n't thought much about what to bring. Expecting it'd be only a few days, like all the other storms I had experienced, I'd only brought my phone, a charger, and my homework notebook. We had n't thought to bring that much cash with us because as dad said, `` There'll be an ATM. Do n't you worry.'' Sorry dad, but I'm starting to worry considering the fact that today we are sailing next to the tops of houses. I've started keeping a diary im this notebook because I do n't expect class will be in session quite so soon. 
 
 **Friday** 
 
 The sound of metal scratching against concrete awoke me from my uncomfortable slumber on the steel floor. The room we were in was crowded with dozens of other families. I had thought dad's military connections would allow us to get excellent service on board the ship. Today I found out dad's service was the only thing that got us onto the ship. The cafeteria ran out of bananas today. Mom says there'll be more soon, but I do n't think so. 
 
 **Saturday** 
 
 I was sitting in the main hall of the ship on my phone, half paying attention to the news blaring from a tiny tv some fifteen feet away. One particular sentence caught my attention, however. `` She's underwater.'' the voice of a shaky news reporter said. Who is underwater, I thought. The program slowly panned out, as if the camera was stationed on a helicopter, and there in the distance was the torch. She was underwater. The waves had finally sunk the Statue of Liberty. 
 
 **Sunday** 
 
 My family is n't particularly religious but it seemed like everyone was now. The main hall was filled with the echoes of a thousand faiths and prayers. Calls for the rains to stop. Calls for our homes to resurface. Calls for the water to disappear. As I looked outside the grand windows of the main hall, I sighed. Whether it was the antenae just poking out the water next to the ship or the heavy, black clouds that made me solemn, I finally began to realize something: the rain was n't going to stop. 
 
 **Monday** 
 
 While eating lunching with my parents, the intercomes of the ships began blairing important information. I was more concerned with getting down today's slop than listening to the warnings. Finally, looking up from my plate my father's open mouth signalled to me something was dire. According to my father, the airforce had sent several high flying planes up into the sky, hoping to get above the clouds and see when the storms would end. Apparently, the planes sent one transmission before disappearing off of the radar. The transmission read `` Endless. They are endless.'' 
 
 **Tuesday** 
 
 People are losing it. I mean really losing it. Whether it was yesterday's transmission or the fact that we ran out of clean water this morning, people have begun acting like animals. My mother ushered me away from the windows because no longer was my view of the vast, blue horizon of water. The mirrors now became front row seats to suicide after suicide. 
 
 **Wednesday** 
 
 The boat's population seems to be growing thinner and thinner, as does my father's head of hair. My mother has been yelling at night, yelling for the rains to stop, yelling for my brother who was at soccer practice when the sirens blew for the boats to leave. They seem like they are going mad, like everyone else on this boat. As for myself, I'm all out of pages.
