I wake up with sleep in my eyes. The rain is steadily thumping against the my glass window and I bury my head in my pillow, knowing my alarm will go off soon. I take a small moment of silence before the day, listening to my blood pumping in my ears, the quick breaths of my brother, and the quick taps of the weather outside. My silence doesn't last long, though. I can hear hurried footsteps going up and down the stairs, and I check my phone. As I pick it up, the alarm beeps, to which I hurriedly turn off. The time reads 6:30, and I get up and get dressed to inquire as to what's going on.
My dad is quickly shoving stuff into a suitcase, and my mom has her head in her hands over a cup of coffee, watching the news.
"What's going on?" I ask, but my question answers itself. I look at the TV.
"Mass rainfall over Canada. Meteorologists are stunned over why this has happened, and we don't know how long it will last. We're picking up intense flooding, and we're only getting more baffled by the day. Prime minister Aaron Clifton says to stay calm, and stay home. We're working on boats to come and pick you up. Stay home until this is all over." The screen cuts to a video of Americans holding up Canadian flags, "We have the support of the Americans. Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid. Don't be afrai-"
Static fills the screen. I can't really do anything. I simply stand there, in the middle of my grief and shock. I don't feel my face change. It doesn't seem real. It can't possibly be real, right? I'll look outside and the rain will be hitting the bare concrete, and my parents will laugh and say it was all a hilarious prank. And I'll get mad, of course, but one day I'll laugh as well. And that will be the end of it. I go to the window.
The flood is almost up to the window. We're on the second floor. I can feel myself hyperventilating. I can hear the static of the TV, my mom sobbing, the tears rolling down her nose and dripping into her probably cold coffee cup, my father wading through the torrent downstairs for whatever reason, and the thumping of the rain on the windows. I drop to my knees. I can feel tears rolling down my cheek, and hold my face in my hands. I can feel the heaving of my shoulders, pushing against the heavy air. The sounds of the world, the feelings, the colors, are just so, so overwhelming and suddenly I can't breathe, I can't think, I can't see, my face is wet with tears and I'm desperately trying to wipe them off but I'm only getting my sleeves wet, and I know I'm probably heaving huge ugly sobs, but I don't care. I choke in another breath, another breath, trying to calm down. I feel a small hand on my shoulder, and through the loudness of my mom weeping, the loudness of my own voice, the loudness of the rain outside, the silence of Dove's voice breaks through.
"Mercy?"
I can't answer, and he knows that, so he just hugs me instead. I can feel the pain of hearing die down a little, and my breathing becomes slower. I hug him back, and I calm down. I pull back. He glances at me concernedly.
"What happened, Mercy? You never cry."
I know I'm probably a ginormous mess at the moment, but I still smile.
"Dove," I try to find the words. Dove may be young, but he isn't stupid. "Things are going to be a little bit different from now on. Don't be afraid though, because I'll protect you. Now how about you get your bag ready for school?"
He studies my face for a moment, before giving me a smile and a nod. He runs up the stairs on all fours, and I turn to my dad, who's hurriedly trying to carry things outside.
"What are you doing?"
He looks at me, and gives a reassuring smile. Or, it would be reassuring if it wasn't so forced. "Get anything you want to take and put it in a bag. I'm getting the boat ready." He goes outside with the rolled-up boat canopy.
I want to question him, but now isn't the right time. I go upstairs.
"Hey, Dove! So, it turns out that school's cancelled today. And, we might be going on a boat ride too!" I go to him, and help him unpack his schoolbooks and projects from his bag. I select some good, warm clothes and carefully stuff them into his backpack. We're left with a little bit of space.
"Can I bring Casper?" He holds Casper, and tries to widen his eyes at me. I take a moment to consider it.
"Sure, why not?" I don't think we should waste space, but I want him to have some sort of item that feels like home to him. I make it so the floppy, soft toy has its arms tucked together by its body, and it fits quite well. I slide in my diary and pencil case in Casper's arms as well, sealed in a plastic bag.
I go onto my own bag, letting Dove help. I make sure we both have some sort of tighter clothes, in case we need to swim somewhere and thick coats aren't helping. I still have some space in my bag, so I look in my parents' room. My eyes trail to my mom's shawl on the end of their bed, and I pick it up and put it in my bag. She probably didn't have the time to think of this, since dad likely packed both of their clothes. She's had this shawl for years, since she was 8. It's somehow still in good condition after 34 years. I grab the sewing kit off the side of her dresser, and an old bible, and we go downstairs. My mom is still sitting at the table, staring idly into her coffee mug. I gently tap her shoulder.
"We have to go, mom."
She nods silently, and I guide Dove and mom to the stairs. I pick up Dove, and wade through the water, trying to keep him as dry as possible. My dad is soaking wet, but the canopy is up. We all quietly get inside. The inside of the boat is very muddy, with wet footprints all over the floor. A small towel was thrown on them to try and clean it up, but it did a horrible job. I put mine and Dove's bags with the other bags, and look around a bit more. Dad's old fishing rod is on the bench in the cockpit, and there are some bags with what seems to be cans and bottles of water.
I look at my parents. Dad has his head reared a bit, and he's taking deep breaths. I feel a pang of guilt when I realise it was probably from having to assemble and stock a full boat for four people, alone. Mom is just staring into the distance, slouched back. I've never seen her like this, never so... resigned? It scares me. I look at Dove on my lap. He's playing with a lock of my thick, brown hair. I touch his fluffy, blonde hair, and rest my head on the back of my seat. I don't know why I'm so exhausted. It could be change, it could be the breakdown from earlier. I'm too tired to play this blame game. I shut my eyes.
* * *
When I open my eyes again, Dove has fallen asleep next to me, his head on my lap. I blink sleepily, and rub my eyes. I look out the plastic window. The rain is so hard to see through, but I can make out my house. I can see the top window, but we're far above the second floor. My heart catches in my chest for a second as I realise what would have happened if we had listened to the news presenter. We would've drowned like rats in a hole.
I ask dad about our resources, out of worry. He said he got everything in the house that he could.
I carefully reach over Dove, and grab my Diary from his backpack. I open the plastic bag, and put pencil to paper.
October 19, 2027
Weather: Rain
I'm not sure what's going on. The rain is coming down so hard, and I didn't know rain could fall this fast.
The news presenter today was lying for some reason. They didn't send boats. At least, not fast enough to pick us all up. I'm glad dad got the boat ready.
Supplies list:
17 cans of food
14 full water bottles, 5 empty ones
3 plastic bags
Clothes, I didn't count
This diary
Pencil case
Casper
My mom's shawl
Bible
Fishing rod
A half empty bottle of sealer
Sewing supplies
I'm afraid for what might happen. Mom is just... quiet now. She's not herself. It scares me more than the flood.
Dad brought his Cross necklace. It comforts me, even though I'm not the one wearing it.
I put my pencil and diary back, and keep my eyes trained out the window. The rain continues to fall.