A punch in the gut, a pang in my stomach…. A small anxiety attack with it.
- 6:00 AM – I wake up and make my bed like I always do. My 5-year-old must be in the living room watching his iPad. I can hear him. I’m checking my phone and looking at my feed on Instagram. Strangely, none of my friends have posted anything (which is weird since some of the posts at least once an hour). I get up and go to the living room, my eldest daughter of 25 years old isn’t there, but her car is still here and also her electrical bike, so I assume she’s walking our dogs. My son askes where his sister is. I answer that I don’t know. I sit down and turn on my laptop. I watch some Netflix, thinking it’s just a normal day.
- 8:00 AM – I find it weird that my daughter hadn’t come back yet with the dogs. This is starting to feel weird. I send a message to my Whatsapp family group. Ok, Canada is still asleep at this time, but my adult children should be answering. My friends should be answering.
- 10:00 AM – I then hear the sound of my dogs barking downstairs. My daughter obviously didn’t go on a walk. I go down the steps and notice my dogs sitting in front of the front door. I go back upstairs and look out the window, and my daughter’s car is still there. All I can think about is where did she go? Why would she leave without her car? I then go upstairs and open her door hoping she is still home. She’s gone. I text her phone, “Where did you go?” waiting for a response. That’s when I hear the buzz from her backpack and I see that the phone is still in there. I then text and try calling my other son of 23 who lives down the street, but he doesn’t answer either. My nerves are getting at me, so I just pace around the house thinking about where she went and why my son wasn’t answering either. I calm myself down, saying everything’s probably fine and that I’m freaking out over nothing.
- 10:10 AM– I settle down and turn on the news. All I see is a message saying that billions of people have disappeared over the night and nothing else. I slowly start to cry realizing that I’m all alone. Was this the rapture and was I left behind I though? But the idea dies soon. The Rapture would see around a third of the population gone, not the staggering amount seen now. We still don’t know how many people are left, but
two thirdsis a hopeful wish that I suspect will be proven just that: a wish.
- 10:15 AM – After some time really thinking this through I start crying hystericaly… I just realize that… if this is true… I lost the people I love.
- 10:30 AM – I try to find an e-book online written by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross for dealing with loss and grief. Don’t think that I could get an actual book delivered anymore. More crying.
- 11:00 AM – I finally dry up my tears and get up. I’m still having a mental breakdown and barely functioning, but I have to start doing something. I have no idea if the power is going to stay on, so I charge up my phone (just in case) and go on my computer. I check twitter, talk to some people, but find no one from my town. Everyone else is just as confused and shocked as I am. Just yesterday, I ate dinner with my two other children, but today, they are gone. That is when I decide to leave the house with the dogs and my 5-year-old. Afraid that they too will disappear. Desperately wanting to find another living soul.
- 12:00 Noon – I don’t have a driver’s license (The only 40-year-old in town without probably) and decide to give my daughter’s car a try anyway, who will stop me? I put the dogs and my son in the car. With loads of healthy snacks, like it matters. We’re off. Before I get on the highway, I go to my neighbor’s/besties house and look to see if they are okay. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t see what happened to them. None of them are there. I felt relieved knowing that the kids were not left behind with no one to take care of them. Driving down the road and our town of 37,000 people looks completely deserted. Usually, I see a couple of dozen cars, pedestrians, and bicycle drivers on any given day. We live on a very busy street. But now it is just me, my son and our dogs.
- 1:00 PM – After an hour of driving, I see no one. I decide to just drive into the city of Antwerp, park the car near the central station and wait. There are 498,473 people living there and from what I could tell from on Twitter, 20 of them are still there. So I wait, hoping someone will pass by. There has got to be at least one person, right? I yell out waiting for a response. It never comes. I don’t even hear any animal sounds coming from the zoo next door. Thankfully my son and dogs were napping unknowingly on the back seat.
- 3:00 PM – I make the decision to just give up on searching. Driving home, utterly defeated, I sit down on our couch with our dogs and son at my side and open up a bag of chips. My son is still not worried, still very happy watching Larva on Netflix and giggling the whole time. I wait and hope that this is just a bad dream that I will wake up from at any moment. We shouldn’t have to be alone like this! I think. I spend some more time crying until I physically can’t any longer.
- 6:00 PM – I make our dinner of grilled cheese sandwiches and eat in silence. I decide that instead of sitting here, I’m going to make the trip to Brussels to look for more people. With a city that large, there should be a lot more people left. I might even see some others driving along the way. It’s about 45 minutes from my house to Brussels so I plan on leaving early in the morning at 6:00 am. I clean up the food, give my son a bath put him to bed and get ready for our big journey. Packing our bags, sleeping bags and a pop-up tent. Utilizing the power still working, I print out the directions and charge my phone. I set my alarm for 6:00 am.
- 7:00 PM – For the first time ever, I go to bed at 7 at night, hoping to get a long rest. Any other night, I would have been up until 12:00 am, but this wasn’t just “any other night”. My son is again sleeping in my bed, lying in the middle, making me have to lie on my side at the end of the bed. Our two doxies leap on the bed, comforting me so I can fall asleep. Thinking of my two precious other children. The sadness of our situation keeps me awake until I finally give in and drift off to sleep.
- 6:00 AM – Flipping the switch to turn on my light, I find the power no longer works. It now truly feels like we are in some kind of sci-fi movie. I make our beds like any other day, make a small breakfast for my son (who was very upset that his iPad’s battery had died during the night) and get ready to leave. Opening the door, I remember that I have to grab one thing. I run into the living room and hold on to the last photo I had of myself with my three children and the dogs. With the photo in hand and my son and dogs at my side, we jump into the car. I reverse out of the driveway and drive off, not knowing what will happen next.
This is based on a dream that I had recently.