The Windowsill

Chapter IV: Into the Night

Day 1

THE HOUSE WAS EMPTY.

The life of an only child ensures an increased level of comfortability attributed to being home alone. The only other people in the house were your parents, your houseplants were your best friend and - if you're lucky - pets were your siblings growing up, including dogs, cats, hedgehogs, or even ferrets. Considering Rin already had her driver's license and basic college level cooking skills, it wasn't unusual for her parents to go on a 'Surprise! We're going on a vacation!' travel spree. She even developed a sense of personal space for when it's needed the most.

But no matter how much one is used to being an only child, it's safe to say that this was not one of those times and that being in absolute darkness is uncomfortable for anyone and everyone.

Here in her home alone Rin held in her hand a tote bag filled with two peach red bulls and a bag of kettle chips, and in the other hand, her three-liter water jug. Perhaps not the best selection of groceries during a block-wide power outage, but she did not doubt the electricity would return once the brisk winds die down.

Southern California has very few risks attached to its name - that is in terms of weather. There are no snowstorms, very few major earthquakes give or take, and no tornadoes. The only downside is that the SoCal region is a known powder keg of dry brush. In translation, California has terrible fire seasons which, in most recent years, have spanned the entire twelve months year after year. When the power goes out on a late windy summer evening that's usually the result of state mandated blackouts. Powerlines shut. Cell towers are down. No calls in or out unless your home miraculously held onto its old landline.

Now that Rin thought about it, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to convince her parents to go wireless.

On the bright side Rin knew that her parents kept their landline intact somewhere inside the one-story house. If only she knew where they nested it before they hitched themselves on a mini-vacation.

It couldn't be that hard to locate though, or so Rin thought.

She knew that her mother furnished the house to be accessible and minimalistic - very little to mess up meant very little to clean up - but it also meant that sometimes items were harder to dig up when you actually needed it for a change.

"If I were my mom and wished to keep everything organized, where would I store the landline?" Rin asked herself and turned on her phone's flashlight. Glancing at the battery symbol she rubbed her temples where a small headache began to brew.

"Okay, okay, don't panic." Rin said. "The dark is nothing to fear about. The power will return. First things first, find the landline."

With her battery nearly dead Rin couldn't rely solely on her phone. If she knew anything about her parents was that one of their mottos when they were growing up was always, trust technology when your life doesn't absolutely depend on it - if it does depend on it, just toss it. The best part about a landline is that it does not require electricity to transfer a signal, it connects via a main area telephone line from the cord and plug in the wall. Whereas a mobile phone requires electricity to do just that. In other words, keeping the landline was a safer move considering the circumstances Rin was under.

She took a deep breath in, not exactly pleased with her odds. She moved all of her things to the kitchen, atop the center granite counter.

Cold to the touch.

She moved her palms around the granite and felt the smooth surface. In order to keep electricity and gas bills low, her parents required that the temperature of the house remains below twenty one degrees celsius - both in summer and winter. Under strict guidance not to touch the temperature settings unless instructed to do so,