The acid rain had lightened but that didn't mean it had stopped. Just resumed to a bit of lighter rain. I walked up the short steps of what had once been an apartment building. There were several buckets and jugs collecting rain. If it was boiled the contamination could be reduced. We take anything we could get. The door creaked open as if ready to let others in both the good and the bad.

    I shut the door and walked up the creaking steps three flights.

"Hold it!", yelled a deep scruffy voice. I heard the click of the rifle. "Just me dad", I said removing my hood.

My father retreated, "Come on up", he said.

I did and he ushered me into the room closing the door. He was cold and I could tell he had also recently just got back. I set down my bag and took out the seven waters and two loaves of stale bread.

   My mother sat on the worn out and torn up couch at the edge of the wall. There was a refrigerator next to the door then a stove, but all were useless since there was no running electricity. We had running water in the bathroom but no one said it was clean, yet it was better than what most places had. There were five sleeping bags scattered around the floor. Nothing but a broken clock hung on the wall. There were two full windows who hadn't yet succumb to cracks.

    My father rubbed his hands together and breathed into them to keep them warm and then picked up a blanket putting it over my shoulders and I sat against the couch side holding it close to dry up and stay warmer.

   "Took another swim didn't you?", he chuckled.

I managed a smile, "Something like that", I said my teeth slightly chattering and held my knees close.  

    My mother read from the three books we had. Moby Dick was in her hands right now. She's probably read it over 1 million times by now. Including the other two. She never wanted to forget how to read and she loved reading.

   My mother was a strong minded woman, tall and lanky. Her hair was a deep dirty blonde and hadn't seen sunshine in days. It used to go down to her chin but to prevent lice we had all chopped off a good length and kept it so. The cut was never straight either. Some areas were shorter than others and pieces stuck out every which way. But those pieces were dark and grimey not having been washed for several weeks. She wore dorm up faded jeans and a navy sweater. She had a small Calvin and Hobbes handkerchief that she kept with her and had stitched it to a scarf to keep with her in one place. She was 64 now and her hands were rough and she had slight wrinkles. And her eyes held deep circles under them from lack of nutrition and uncomfortable sleep. But she always smiled. Her teeth were slightly yellow as ours since we had to conserve our toothpaste. Her bright blue eyes defined her old European ethnicity.
  
    In the back was a tiny room which was the bathroom. There was a bathtub, sink and toilet. Above the sink was a mirror slightly cracked in the top right corner. The tiles were white and some had yellow spots and were chipped off. There was a line of ugly pink tiles rotating around the square room which was 8 by 8 feet. The sink had running water most days, just not in the winter when everything froze throughout the month of February.

    I heard a knock on the door. A distinctive knock: three knocks then a five second pause and then a quick paced four knocks. My father opened the door, and in stumbled two people. My little sister and little brother. They were wet too from the acid rain. Their sneakers were soaked. Their backpacks and arms were filled with what looked like junk but to us it was useful tools.

  They dropped their things on the table in a pile and it all clattered making a loud noise. Metal pieces fell off the wooden table. We hurriedly picked the objects up as not to lose them, everyone did their share setting them all back up.
   After we had all stored and sorted through everything in cardboard boxes and then put then in the cabinets hanging above the counters.

    I sat back down still cold. The movement had helped get me warm just a little but without any source of heat right now there wasn't really any saving from the chilly bite.

  My father took my bag and opened it taking out each bottle totaling out it seven and then handed one to my mother whose name was Chloe, my sister Anna, brother Sammy, and then one to me with a smile. I took it smiling back. He took one for himself. But everyone only drank very little. We had to make a bottle last for at least three days.

  "You take a swim Lisa?", asked Sammy.

"A bath actually", I replied. "Shower and a bath all in one", laughed Sammy.

"Only thing that would make it better is if it were warm", said my father with a grumble, his name was Alex.

My father then looked in my bag again setting down the water. He had seen something extra.

   His eyebrows drew together as he looked afraid to pull it out. He reached his large hand in there and pulled out the cloth. At first came a blue bit with stars and then the white and red stripes. My father stepped back and unfolded the cloth.

    It was grime covered and filthy but we could all tell what it was. Tears filled all our eyes. I hadn't gotten a good look at it and had mistook for a big blanket. Now though, I realized it was much more.  After all these years it seemed we were done crying. But it seemed as if the tears were just saved.

   My father a large powerful man submitted himself to fall to his knees. He held the flag to his face as if hiding his tears but his muffled sounds could be heard. "I thought they got rid of all of them", he whispered. He looked at the fifty stars and thirteen stripes.

He stood slowly.

"Let's clean it. It doesn't deserve this treatment", said my father quietly.

"I'll get the water", said Chloe my mother.

"I was able to get soap from Mr.Benton", said Anna. We each took corners of the flag and lay it on the table as to not let it touch the ground. Each of us got rags and began to slowly scrub careful to keep the parts in tact. Bit by bit the color grew sharper and bolder.

  As we each scrubbed and cleaned it seemed as if the memories of that day came back. That day it all started.

   It was the end of the school year in Texas and we were all standardized testing. I was a sophomore then my brother and sister in eighth grade. That sunny day we were kept in one room for four hours to test. That day it was the math exam. The one I normally struggled with. But today I felt prepared, perhaps I could get an A unlike my usual low Bs. Earlier I had spoken to my friends and we wished each other luck. My pencil had been writing down the number 667 to multiply it by 34 and then write the answer in logarithmic form after.

I never got to the answer though.

I never got to it because... well....

They all burst in. The man in their black uniforms and helmets that said FBI and SWAT on the back.

    They stormed in filling the room. The teacher, stood up and tried to ask what was going on. He was only pinned down and cuffed. Students were torn from their chairs and seats. One grabbed me firmly and I screamed afraid but was dragged out with all the rest of them. Teachers and administrators were pulled from their rooms and offices only to be put in a large van.

I managed to get glimpses within the classrooms and in four of them I saw a student or two not of normal status still in there all alone and seemingly untouched.

As I passed a room I saw a boy I knew and grabbed the door frame shouting, "Andrew! Andrew!". He jolted up dropping his pencil when he saw me.There were officers in the room though and I felt myself dragged out. I heard the officers in the room yell at him, "Keep working! You ain't done yet!" And the door slammed shut.

On all three levels some students began to fight back in fear. Future enlisted military seniors were swinging punches only to get crushed under three or more officers. There were police dogs barking and biting some unlucky rebellious students and did not release. Others screamed as they were dragged out by their arms and legs if needed. Several were cuffed and swearing trying to make as much noise as they could. Then there were those like me who were too afraid to do anything.

   I was shoved along to the front of the large high school and I saw a long line file down and around of hundreds, thousands of children. They were just normal people, it was branded on the files they held within their hands.
   There was a desk at the front of the school and each file was stamped over with large bold lettering that said "New World Citizen". It seemed to sink deep through the white paper.

     Some of them asked what was going on and I heard one officer reply, "they are illegal immigrants and did not obey the law".
  
   What?! I had thought. There must be a mistake! I've been a law abiding citizen for the past 14 years! I've been alive for 14 years!!!

    The principle, was thrown into a van brutally and the last I saw of the friendly man were his shiny shoes hanging limply on his motionless feet. I found myself ordered to get in another van as well. The door was shut in my face being the last to sit down. I looked at the people in there. The individuals were the same people who rode my bus this morning. But this was no bus. This was a dark van, and for the first time I wanted to be inside that horrid yellow rectangle rather than in here. This dark and desolate place.

     We rode in silence and were ordered not to talk, but to only get out when we were told to do so. And we were in there for hours. Long grueling hours I secretly kept track timing with my digital watch. The hours added up. 1....2....3....4.....5....6...7....8....and 8 hours it was. All of us were thrown out and then the van left. And the gate shut locking. Guards stood on the other side as I gripped the fencing watching the van disappear.

     I didn't know what to do. I was all alone. The students who has been with me were just as alone. I sat at the edge of the fence. I just waited. The scene stretched out before me. Southern San Antonio. I had been here many times to visit the Alamo. Broken, beaten and disintegrated. It was all silent the people were gone. Perhaps I just wasn't seeing them at all.

    The students sat with me but one by one they ran out of patients and left to try and make it on their own. Again I was more than alone. But I was determined to wait. I waited and by midnight in found both my siblings and parents come through that gate. But it was only shut before our very eyes. And over time it only grew bigger, more complex and dangerous.
   
Both sides lost that day, they lost everything and the opposition doesn't even know it.

  Today on both sides the more you knew the more power you had but the more dangerous your life would be, and those around you would also be in danger. But we kept everything to ourselves and within our own family. If anything got out there's no telling what desperate thieves would come. It's been twelve years like this now. One would think a resistance would form to try and rebel.

    But when this happened people, men women and children took medication from pharmacies within this southern portion and took as many as they could. Many grabbed the wrong ones and  got the worst side effect. Alcohol is scarce now because everyone began to binge drink claiming to have fun in the last days...or to just forget. But no one ever took into consideration how much one would forget. An entire nation's former history. Just gone with the cries and the gun shots.

    There are those of us who remember though. Those of us who won't forget. Who can't forget. Who know forgetting isn't an option. Because forgetting all that, means forgetting who you are and where you came from. I guess some people are ok with that. But I'm not ok with that. None of those here within this small room are ok with forgetting.
We won't even forget the little things. 

    After it was clean my brother Sammy and father twisted it above a bucket out on the steps to be sure the excess water would get out and to perhaps use it for a bath to clean. The three week mark had come.

   The shower was turned on and the soap water bucket was placed next to the bath along with the small bar of soap which would not be touched. My sister went first, then my mother, father, Sammy, and I went last insisting I do so.

    I switched with Sammy as he came out. I hated this part. Everytime the water shot out it felt as if it was going to freeze against my skin. So I took a rag and rubbed the soap water against my body and rubbed the dirt from my legs and neck then my hair I got out of there as fast as I could since I hated the cold firing against my back.

I dried myself as best I could with the two towels that we had: one for the floor under our feet, and the second a body towel. It was already pretty damp and heavy. I put back on my heavy sweat pants and sweater, then my rain jacket. I tied on my laces.

    I stood and realized the entire time I still had the necklace on from that man. Hope is a fragile thing today. It is in a sense non-existent here. I can still remember when churches filled almost every corner. Fliers and billboards and posters dotted with quotes from the bible.
Now they are no where to be seen anymore.

   We all sat on the ground since the table was occupied and used the little we had. Only an eighth of one loaf was used and that was all we had.

Anna looked around silently at us. "Do you guys want to know what we found?", she asked after a bit of silence.

"I thought we had already gotten all of your findings?", asked my mother.

"Well this one's for dinner", said Anna scrambling through her pocket. She pulled out a jar of jam. Strawberry jam.

     I looked at the jam. It had been a long time since I've had something sweet. It wasn't Sammy or Anna's thing but they knew it was Chloe and mine. But in these times they ate anything. Having spoons we began to smear it on our pieces. Even my father ate it.

"We're lucky again today", he said.

    My mother put her hand on his squeezing it. I ate slowly savoring the sweetness. We wouldn't have this for a long time. It was like once in a blue moon, and blue moons don't exist, because we can't even see the moon or stars anymore at night.
"Tomorrow it will be dark again, do we have enough flint and wood?", asked my father.

"I recharged the flash lights with whatever light there was this morning before the rain rolled in", said Sammy.

"Alright, we'll have to be extremely careful as usual", said my father.

He looked at us three. He knew we weren't going to stay inside. But he was 69 and we were all in our mid twenties. Young adults now. We could've left but with no form of contact or communication in this world, it's best to stick together. We may lack in numbers, but in the will to survive we make up for it.

"Alright, I'll take first watch. You guys go to bed", said my father.

   Knowing objecting would not be an option my father took his shotgun and sat down by the closed door and took an old blanket cloaking himself with it. He loaded it and leaned it on his lap just waiting and watching carefully. The candle was blown out and night took over the room.

    I slipped into my sleeping bag cuddling against it. The chill was still there, and just was every night I realized how dark it actually was. Tomorrow even throughout the day it would be the same. For every day we got, there were two days of darkness, and we don't know why time had flipped so awkwardly. Here in today's era it seems like anything abnormal is possible.

    I just lay there silently, there was not a single sound. No crickets as it was once said to be. There was no  cricket's lullaby to play you to sleep. In fact here, there were no animals of any sort other than monsters.

    So I....closed my eyes.