September 27

This is all my fault.

I was sentenced to a whole day to sit in my room to organize old papers and books, sorting them into sentimental items and disposable, burnable items. Mom and Dad gave me a tiny box to hold all the things that I wanted to keep and a giant box for paper to be burned. Being a world class hoarder, this was the worst punishment that Mom and Dad could think of.

But nothing would prepare me for what Charles said after I heard his knock on the window. I looked out and saw him waving at me.

"What are you doing here? My parents would be mad if they saw you here."

"I've got something important to tell you, and I'll make it quick," he said. "I just need a couple of minutes."

"Meet me in the neighbor's yard, where we met last time."

He gave me a thumbs up, and I opened the door to my room slowly before closing it with the softest creak and snuck outside. Mom and Dad were nowhere to be seen for some reason, but my heart stopped for a second when I saw May.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Please don't tell Mom and Dad," I said.

"Why?" she asked.

"I'll do anything," I said. "Just hold off on saying that I went outside for five minutes."

I'm sure she knew that I was meeting with Charles and that her tattling on me to Mom and Dad would be the best revenge she could enact on me for betraying her on Monday. Much like when I held all the power to decide whether or not to burn the axe, she now held the power to decide whether I would get cut off from the outside world.

So it surprised me when she said, "I won't tell them. But I'm going to be cashing out on that promise to do anything very soon. And let's just say that it'll involve a lot of pain."

"Thank you. Thank you," I said and left the house. I ran sneakily through the yard and hopped the fence with the assistance of the chair. He was sitting on the bench and staring at his watch.

"We're—" he said, but I cut him off before he could even begin.

"I'm sorry that you had to hear that yesterday. I'll find some way to get you the cans," I said. "Tensions are pretty high at home, but once things cool down, I'll get some food."

"You won't need to," he said and looked down, biting his lip. "We're leaving."

"Leaving?" I said in disbelief. I couldn't form any words for a few seconds because I couldn't grasp Charles disappearing forever. "Like to the South?"

"Things are supposed to be better down there," he said. "And it's our only option."

"How long have you been planning this for?" I asked.

"A while," he said. "But I didn't want to tell you this because I didn't want to scare you and we were going to leave a bit later. But after some recent events, we had to change our timeline to the day after tomorrow."

I couldn't help but feel like the "recent events" had to do with me getting cut off from the cans after Mom and Dad's massive blow up. It's no coincidence that the day that this happens is the day that he and his family decide to leave here forever. But maybe I'm overthinking this because in the past few weeks, so much has happened, from the earthquake cutting off water to the breakdown in food drive negotiations. At the same time, Dad's words rang in my head from yesterday.

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"But what about fuel," I asked. "Or food or just everything you need—"

"We're fine," Charles said and looked down at his glass-stained boots. "We've gotten everything that we need for the trip."

I nodded because I knew exactly how they got everything they needed, from barren homes and possibly (but hopefully not) other starving families like his. "What about our bucket list?" I asked.

"That's what tomorrow is for," Charles said. "I know your parents have basically grounded you, but do you think that you could meet me in the morning by the train tracks at seven or so. You should also probably write a note to your parents to make sure that they don't panic since we're going to be out all day."

"How are we going to write a story in one day?"

"There's a bit of a workaround," he said. "We're not really going to be writing a full story per say, but we're going to be creating one from scraps of old things."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but it better be a good story," I replied.

"It'll certainly be a good one if you have to book your whole day with me," he said. "Get it? Book your whole day."

"That has to be your worst pun ever," I said. "If you were a character in a book, it'd seem like the author is just trying to inject forced humor into the story of our lives."

"Wow, that really hurt," he said jokingly, and we both laughed. "If I was a character in a book, I think I'd be everyone's favorite."

"Totally," I said, and there was a small lull in our conversation.

Charles looked down at his watch before standing up. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I said. "Good—"

"Let's save our goodbyes for tomorrow," he said, and opened the gate before shutting it close and leaving. And I hopped over the fence and sat in the backyard for the longest time before Mom and Dad started yelling about where I was.

"What were you doing outside?" Dad asked.

"I wanted some air," I said with a shrug.

"Were you seeing Charles?"

"No."

"I'm going to ask this again, and I want you to look me in the eyes. Were you talking with Charles."

"No," I said.

"We did this for your own good," Dad said, crossing his arms and looking down at me.

I started walking away. "Just leave me alone!"

But when I looked back, I saw Dad surprised, the sternness and coldness melted away for just a second. His eyes seemed softer, and he was almost slack jawed. Maybe he actually regretted what he said, and maybe he was going to give me a proper apology. Maybe I could continue gathering cans, and Charles and his family wouldn't have to leave.

"I'm sor—" Dad said before cutting himself off.

That half-cut off sorry is everything that I hate in Dad. He's so stubborn that he can't admit when he's plain wrong. It's like he doesn't have enough humility to spare a simple apology that costs absolutely nothing. It's all their fault that he's gone because all they needed to do was to just change their newfound beliefs for just one person, and they were too stubborn not to.

But maybe it's my fault too. I saw how May treated me alright today even when I ruined her life, and I wonder if it's because she heard the conversation between Mira and me. In the moment, it felt awkward and intrusive for someone to listen to me spilling everything and all the emotional honesty. Looking back on it though, I wonder if this was the turning point for May. If she never had heard our conversation, I don't think she would've spared me since she'd make me suffer alongside her too.

All of this gets back to Mom and Dad. I know that yesterday I said telling the truth would be pointless, but I wonder if I had opened up to them about my fear of losing Charles, that they'd have been more willing to help him. Maybe if I had told them that I'm terrified that once he leaves, I'll start forgetting him, like he was another relic of a past world that doesn't exist anymore, it'd convince them to continue to allow me to slip them food.

The sensations of going to school or riding a car are already beginning to fade from my mind, and as much as I try to preserve my memories, eventually, almost everything about my only friendship will fade away.

Because of this, for my story, I think I'm going to write about the story of us. I don't know how it's going to work but getting something down means that we'll at least be preserved on paper in this diary of the apocalypse. It's the only way to make this friendship permanent and everlasting.

Before today, I would've been stumped on my last item, but I've figured out what I'm going to do for it: complete honesty from the both of us. As much as I hope not, the rational part of me knows there's little chance that we're going to meet again. There's no point in leaving anything off of the table and no chance to regret everything unsaid.

This is the most terrifying item on my bucket list, but maybe that's the point. Charles' first item on the bucket list was to challenge me to get into the water, so it's time that I challenge myself to change.