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The alarm wasn’t supposed to go off yet. I couldn’t tell what time it was from the darkness, but the lack of sunshine told me it was still too early. Slowly rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I rolled over to check the neon green numbers and blinked. That couldn’t be right. Even in the dead of winter (two months away as of yesterday), the sun bathed my room in pale orange. Maybe the clock was brok… The time changed. 9:01, in acid green numbers against a background of nothing, showed it wasn’t frozen. The AM in the top left further enforced the time. Now my mind was catching up with my body. What was going on? Why was it still dark? My sleep addled brain debated for a second whether or not to leave the warmth wrapped around me, but logic won out. I had to see what was going on. I tossed my blanket off, goosebumps rising at the sudden cold air. Making my way to the window, it took a second to realize the specks of yellow dotting the sidewalk below were street lights. I was only three floors up, they should have seemed like luminous cones instead of distant stars. My eyes trailed up to the sky, still expecting to see the sun the same as it was yesterday, despite that being the reason I left my bed. Nothing. Not even a star dotting the infinite space above. Peering eyes widened as I registered the thought. Why did I expect to see stars in the middle of the brilliant city? Because there were no bright lights. No apartment windows were lit, though looking at the building across from me, shadows of people and curtains were moving in front of fuzzy gray backgrounds. But no lamps were turned on. Even if they were like me, and had focused on the lack of sun, there was always at least one apartment with someone awake, no matter when I stumbled home. Now, nothing. Mind racing, I lurched back and reached for the light switch. Hand fumbling along the wall in pitch black, the knob clicked up and down as I hurriedly tried turning on the ceiling bulbs. I blinked at the anticipated brightness, but nothing happened. An empty echo of the switch ticking radiated through the flat. Now my mind is awake, fear and shock working faster than a cup of coffee. I made my way through the apartment, tracing my path using what little I can make out in the murky gloom and my memories. My hand brushed past the few pictures hanging in the hall, slowly going around the black blob I know is my table at the end of the hall.&nbsp; My fridge is on. I paused at the thought before focusing on why I considered about it. The electric hum made its way to my ears as my eyes noticed the clock on my stove. 9:42. Time was passing, but no sun creeping into the sky. Opening the fridge, I instinctively squinted at a brightness that wasn’t there. The same inky filter that covered my room, but the low sound of power vibrated in my ears and the cold pricked my skin gently. The only thing missing was the blinding brightness I'm used to. Now I’ve become more confused. In a haze, I traced my way through the rest of the apartment, flicking switches as I felt them. The kitchen, my living room, the front hall, the bathroom. Nothing. No light, merely sounds. By the time I made it back to my room, my phone is buzzing. Messages from friends, family, coworkers all fighting for the top spot on my screen. The notifications were blocked as my mom called. “Are you okay? Do you have light? There’s no light here! Aunt Janet already called, they don’t have lights either. Thank goodness the phone lines are still working, but still. She said the kids tried flashlights and their phones. All these things, but nothing worked! And the sun! It should be bright in the sky but there’s no sun!”&nbsp; “I’m okay, mum. The lights are out here too, but nothing else. Take a deep breath me, please, okay? Have you checked the news yet? Maybe there's something there about what's going on?” I can hear her breath rattling through the line. She wasn’t old by any means, but I worried. “No, no, the TV isn’t working either. Your father pulled up the news on his phone, you know. With everything on the phones these days. But there isn’t anything new yet. Just a few articles saying the government is looking into it and not to worry. Like I won’t worry just because the news says not to. The radio seems to be working though. But no one knows what’s going on there, either.” I turn her words over in my mind, uneasy about their meaning. No sun, no lights, but the phones are working and cold air keeps blowing in the fridge. No TV, but the radio is fine. How? Why? My chest tightened at the uncertainty the lack of answers gave. “Mum, can you just stay inside for now, alright? Maybe try lighting some candles, see if that helps. Do you have enough food there? Or, uh, do you want me to try and come home?” They were a few hours away by car but I could get there if she really needed me. “No, no. You stay there. Don't you worry now. A few of us in the neighbourhood are going to stay at Marisol’s house down the road. I don’t want you trying to drive with who-knows-what going on.” I let out a relieved breath. As much as I love my parents, my heart raced at the idea of disturbing the stillness outside my window. “Um, okay, mum. You stay with dad, alright? I worry about you guys. Please, keep sending me messages. So I know you are okay, alright?” “Alright. I need to call your cousin, see what she makes of all this. She's ages ahead of us, likely been up for hours already. You let me know if something happens, okay?” Hanging up, I sit on the edge of my bed looking out the window. The curtains might as well have been closed for how much the outside helped me see. Cynically, I wonder how long before people start to take advantage of the darkness - imagining scenes from the start of apocalyptic movies, when people are running around, stealing TVs and jewelry, with bonfires made out of cars and buildings raging on the streets. I may not live in a bad part of town, but that doesn’t mean human nature will stay hidden behind polite masks when no one will witness. For now, the plan was simple. Stay inside. I was planning on going grocery shopping this afternoon, but I have enough to make a few meals. They won’t be the healthiest. But, it’s safer to keep an eye, or maybe an ear, on what’s going on.&nbsp; First things first - getting dressed. The heat was on, but no sun meant no sunny warmth, and I wasn’t going to turn my apartment into a sauna just to combat it. Mom always said to put a sweater on before turning up the heat. A pair of pants and a comfy sweater were the outfit for the weather, I thought, not even bothering to contemplate dressing for the office. Trying my phone’s flashlight confirmed what my mom mentioned. I went digging in the back of my closet with my phone’s brightness turned up to help me see, pulling out the handful of candles my dad insisted I own. I left a small tealight next to my bed for later and headed for the kitchen. A screeching sound outside had me dropping the candles and rushing to the window. Two thin beams dimmed before my eyes, a car had crashed into one of the streetlights below. Something dark dashed in front of the vehicle, seeming like they moulded around the slender rays. A cat or a raccoon, my heart pleaded. Something else, my mind replied louder. The headlights faded to almost nothing, the street dim enough to notice the dash remaining faintly flickering within the dying machine.&nbsp; Shaking away the nervous energy hovering over my skin, I moved back to the kitchen and picked up the fallen candles. Narrowed vision searched the kitchen drawers for matches, setting up one tealight on the kitchen counter and a second in the living room. Out the window, other apartments seem to have had the same idea.&nbsp; Finding ways to spend time in the midnight-esque day was the hard part, my nerves not helping. I took the time to respond to everyone messaging me. No one knew what was going on or why. We just all wanted our loved ones to stay safe. By the time lunch came and went, the only messages coming in were small updates or confirmation that someone was fine.&nbsp; Checking the news sites on my phone only increased my anxiety with the lack of information. A handful of articles tell people to stay inside, not knowing when everything will turn back on or where the sun went - that was the biggest question everyone was asking, but one that didn’t have an answer yet. Social media was equally filled with a multitude of questions and few if any answers. Reading by candlelight hurt my eyes. The only puzzle in my home had a detailed design that looked pretty when I bought it, but would not be easy to do with limited vision. I sat on the sofa nursing a cup of hot chocolate, something sweet and warm to stave off the uneasy icy feeling settling in my bones as the day wore on, when one apartment across the street caught my eye. The curtain was pulled back and the window was open, revealing candles on every surface possible. The room was lit like nothing was wrong while a man worked on something at the table. I had to appreciate how they tried to make it feel like any other night amidst the strangeness, even at the cost of personal comfort. A shadow scampered in the alley next to the building across the street, eerily darker than the gloom attached to the apartment complex. The same one I had tried to convince myself was just an animal. Emphasis on tried, my mind helpfully reminded me, as my heart jumped, eyes peeled on the side of the building. My focus jumped as I would catch a glimpse of something, only for it to disappear, the movement drawing my gaze slowly higher up the building. I couldn’t make out what it was against the dusky brick, a moving shadow only a shade off from the background. I woke up to a different kind of inky blackness. An animalistic shriek came from the midnight mass, as it darted across the front of the building and into the bright room. A puff of air ruffled the curtains and extinguished the light in a single moment, sending a chill down my body and filling my throat with horror. My own candle flickered, despite the windows being closed.&nbsp; Then the sounds spilled from the apartment. Sounds of a man heaving, fighting. Crashing and breaking. The nails-on-a-chalkboard cry I had already heard twice today. Every sound dampened by my closed window yet echoing in my head. A shrill human scream, cut off by a deafening silence. The warm chocolate dripping down my sweater was the least of my concerns as I stood and moved forward to crouch under my window, my hand pressed against my mouth to stop a sob from erupting. What was that? And more importantly, was it coming towards my apartment? The hazy shine spilling from the surrounding apartments made the open window seem ominous, a black hole of horrors. With jittery movements, the black mass scurried out, circling the structure and blending into nothingness. I fell onto the hardwood, shuffling backwards into the sofa and pressing my spine against the fabric, my breath coming out in frantic huffs. Shaky hands fumbling with my phone before turning it on. A single message from my mom cut off the air supply to my lungs. Turn out the lights. She knew. Whatever it was, whatever it could do, she knew about it. Maybe she only knew as much as I did, but that was enough. Something was out there in the darkened day.&nbsp; I sent a quick message back, both to let her know I understood and that I was safe. I know. I waited one minute, three minutes. Time ticked in the upper corner of my screen, the brightness pulled all the way down. A read receipt appeared at the bottom and I took that as good news for now. Turning the screen off, I slowly crawled to my room. Grabbing a blanket and pillow from my bed, I opened the closet and shoved everything on the floor of the room. Just like a child building a fort in their closet, I laid out the blanket and pillow and shut the door behind me. Only this was not a game, no matter how much I wished to be hiding from mom or dad. Sleep came slowly, but soon the darkness all around pulled me under. The next thing I heard was my alarm going off. I opened my eyes to a different kind of darkness, the kind I was used to. The kind I loved when playing hide and seek with my parents. The kind that came with a thin golden line under the door. Opening the closet it was like yesterday never happened. Sunbeams entered my window, fighting with my ceiling light for who was the brightest. I sat in the closet, door open, just staring at the alarm clock still chirping at me. I watched the zero at the end tick to a 1. 9:01 AM. The rest of my day passed in a haze. Everyone was on edge and nervous but moving urgently to get essentials while the sun was still in the sky. The streets were disturbingly perfect, not a hint of cracks or broken glass that should have been there. Calls to friends and family, checking in on everyone. Even the people I hadn’t spoken to in years. As night came, I crawled back into my closet, the small safe space to sleep. Waking up to sunshine and birds chirping. Over and over and over.&nbsp; No more infinite midnight. No more shadows moving. No more lights dimming without an obvious explanation. Just a memory of the day of darkness.

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The Darkened Day

Zephlare

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The Darkened Day

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Emily

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