12:00 A.M.
I scroll through Instagram liking random pictures as I go. One is someone's cat getting stuck in a ventilation pipe and another is a selfie on the beach.
Typical.
I sigh and close the app. I decide to get caught up on my favorite television series so I turn on the TV and open up Netflix. I switch on some show about 100 kids sent down to a radiation infected earth to see if it is inhabitable. I toss the remote onto the cushion next to me and recline back. My arms are folded under my chest and my feet are stretched on the coffee table in front of me.
I sigh and push a loose strand of my blonde hair out of my face. I pull the hair tie holding back my hair out of it and I sling it around my wrist. My hair falls down in a messy curtain, but stays in an upwards position. I pull my fingers through it and ruffle up the top. I figure it looks half decent now and pull my hand away from it.
I sigh and pull my legs under me as I rock back and forth. The show plays as I pick at my already-peeling nail polish. I hold my hand out in front of me and examine my short stubby nails.
"I need a manicure anyways.." I mumble as I haul myself off of the couch and stalk to the kitchen. I pull a tub of ice cream out of the freezer and snatch the biggest spoon I can find before waking back into the living room. I hum a children's song as I plop down on the couch with a huff. I shove spoonfuls of the sweet dairy delight into my mouth and moan with delight.
"Ice cream has never tasted as good as it does now, alone at 12 at night."
I giggle and continue my feasting. I feel something cold slipping down my shirt as I look down to see drips of ice cream now ruining my Marvel t-shirt. I grumble and set the ice cream down on the coffee table.
"Great."
I slink to my room and throw off my shirt. A new one replaces it before the dirty one has time to hit the floor. I have no time to waste. My ice cream awaits.
I half walk-half run back to the living room with my new Iron Man shirt with my kind-of-matching-gray-sweatpants to go with it. I fall back onto the couch and continue to scoop ice cream into my mouth when I hear a buzzing behind me. I jolt up thinking it's a bug, but soon come to realize it's the lights in the kitchen. They flicker one by one then simultaneously go out. I freeze where I stand and watch as the rest of the lights in my house go out except for the ones in the living room where I stand now.
The lights above me flicker on and off with 10 second intervals for about 5 minutes straight. I stare in horror not able to move my body aside from the fact that I haven't stopped eating. I start to tremble conspicuously as I lift a shaky spoonful of ice cream to my mouth.
Stress eating I suppose.
The lights suddenly stop flickering; stop functioning all together. The only light in the whole house is from the TV which has stopped displaying the series I had been watching and now shows one word.
One word that portrays so many meanings, but no context.
One that has me frozen in place, spoon stopped in mid air.
One word that has me scrambling for my phone and for my bag I had packed months earlier.
One word that drives me out of my house in the middle of the night with all the supplies I can carry and down the street.
One word, has everyone around me doing the same thing.
Run.
