June 5

Mom and Dad exploded on us today for yesterday. "Why did you take them to city hall yesterday, Mira? We heard that there was a riot there. A riot. You could've gotten Neal or May hurt!" Dad yelled.

"Well, I'm sorry for looking out for our family," Mira yelled back. "Didn't you want to conserve our food if things get worse!"

"Well, someone could've gotten hurt, and god knows what we have done then."

"We got out before anything went wrong," she said. "And literally no one got hurt, so I'm not sure why you're making such a big deal out of this."

"Go to your room Mira," he shouted.

She laughed bitterly. "What do you think I am? Five or something? I'm twenty years old, not some little kid."

"You're in my house. You follow my rules."

"It's not like it's all your house. Mom pays for it too, maybe we should ask her about it."

I closed my eyes. The only thing worse than the sounds of people fighting are dishes breaking. "Can you guys stop it!" I yelled. "It wasn't Mira's idea to go there. It was mine, okay! So can you guys just stop shouting at each other and get together and start figuring out whatever issues that you guys have."

They both looked stunned. I walked upstairs and closed the door to my room and began writing in this journal. I looked out of the window. The moon was smack-dab in the middle of the sky, crowding out all the stars. I could still hear the echoes of shouting from downstairs.

If there was a shooting star, I'd wish on it to stop all this fighting. Why can't Mira and Dad just get along?

June 7

Charles came to my house today. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I got bored and there's nothing really to do. Do you want to go out somewhere?"

"Yes," I said. It was a good way to escape the stifling atmosphere at home, especially considering what happened a couple of days ago. Everything is just so awkward between everyone. Dad and Mira are still glaring at each other while Mom tries to play the peacemaker.

"Mira. May," I yelled into the house. "I'm going out with Charles."

"Don't die," May said. There wasn't any response from Mira, probably because she was in her room or in the garden fixing up the plants or something.

We walked down the cracked sidewalks, brushing past overgrown stalks of grass and bristly bushes. No one wants to waste gasoline to fuel up the lawnmowers and chainsaws because gas prices are up to fifteen dollars a gallon. Mom and Dad's workplaces are both shutting down by the end of the week because no one can afford to keep their place running on backup generators, though I'm pretty sure that they really weren't doing much at work anyways. Their companies said that they'll be rehiring when everything goes back to normal, but I don't think everything will ever be the same again.

"Did you feel the earthquake a few days ago?" I asked.

"Yeah. Turns out that earthquakes actually happen in California."

"They said it's because of the Moon."

"Everyone says that everything is because of the Moon."

"The tides were because of the Moon."

"Let's not talk about the Moon anymore. Talk about anything else."

"I wish that I could go to the beach."

"The beach? I thought you didn't like beaches. On our field trip, you literally just sat in the sand and did nothing."

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"So?" I said, shrugging. "Doesn't mean I have to go into the water to enjoy the beach."

"And plus," I added. "We can't even go to the beach since it's underwater. And you know why? Because of the Moon and our conversation is back about the Moon again."

"We can go."

"Go where? The beach?"

"Yeah," he said. "Follow me."

We weaved through the suburban sprawl and large oak trees. There were people with RV's out and other people were tying boxes to the tops of their rusting cars. I wanted to stop to see, but if I did then Charles would disappear.

"This is a terrible idea," I said as we reached the caution tape. "Let's do something that doesn't involve me dying."

"No one's going to die," he said, stepping under the yellow tape. "It's becoming low tide right now."

"Don't you care about your future!" I shouted.

He turned back towards me. "I'll care when we actually have a future if things ever get better. But for now, we should live our best lives possible. And that means breaking some rules."

"Dying isn't living our best lives. Dying is the end of our lives."

"We aren't going to die," he said, walking backwards, facing towards me. "Are you coming or not?"

Mom and Dad would kill me if they ever found out. "You're a terrible friend," I said.

"Is that a yes?"

"Whatever."

I walked down the asphalt road and into the tidal zone. The dead looking grass was still damp and there were small salty puddles forming on empty patches of dirt. Skeleton trees lined the avenue, stripped bare of leaves and rotting planks and small items were scattered everywhere.

"Geez," he said. "The tide really ruined everything."

"Yeah," I replied. "I don't know how they're ever going to rebuild."

He pointed upwards. A very faint outline of the moon graced the sky. "Bad moon," he said.

I laughed and we walked down the avenues to the beach. I could hear the waves pounding the shoreline. With all this erosion, will there even be a beach? A seagull squawked and swooped to the ground, picking up something between its beak.

"What's the bird holding?" he asked.

"I don't know, and I don't care to find out. What if it's some child's finger or something."

"Well, I want to know."

He picked up a stone. "Don't bully the seagull," I said. "That's, like, animal abuse."

"Don't act so high and mighty. You probably broke the law by crossing the tape."

"We broke the law— not me only."

"Doesn't make you any less guilty," he said, kicking a piece of gravel.

The lawns and bushes were a mess. There were bits and pieces of kelp strewn on decks and porches with chipped shells and broken glass strewn on the asphalt. The road was dark, and the walls of the houses were water stained a deeper hue and the smell of salty air permeated through the air along with the smell of rot.

"The air stinks," I said. "Maybe we should turn back."

"C'mon. We're right next to the beach."

"Who cares," I said. "Remember, lots of people died over here. What if we see a body?"

"We're not going to see anything," he said. "Just trust me."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm heading back."

"Chicken."

"I'm not falling for your peer pressure."

"Coward."

"What did you say? I can't hear you," I said and muffled my ears.

I walked back down the moist roads. My stomach was churning, and I felt a bit nauseous, like there was a rat rolling in my stomach. I barely got fifty steps before I heard my name being called. "Neal!"

"What do you want, Charles?"

"Just come here."

"What is it?"

"Just come," he said, and I ran towards him.

"What do you want?" I said.

"It's a..." he said, and I saw it.

There was a body, bloating and muddied by the rolling waves. There were chunks of skin missing and scratching and bruising on their skin. But the worst thing was the smell, a strong, pungent odor of rotting carcasses with a sickly-sweet undertone. The nausea climbed up my throat, scratching and stinging me, but I forced it down. But Charles couldn't.

He vomited into a patch of brownish grass, spitting out bile. "Let's get out of here," I said. "Let's go."

He just nodded and we walked away from the rotting body. We didn't talk much after, only looking at each other, our glances conveying everything we needed to say. The most we said was a simple goodbye when we separated.

"How was your day with Charles?" Mira asked.

"Fine."

"Where'd you guys go?"

"Just around town," I said and pushed around some of my food.

Mira's eyebrows furrowed. "Is everything alright? Did you guys get into a fight or something?"

I plastered a smile on my face. "Everything's fine."

I'm such a liar.

June 8

I had a strange dream last night. I was trapped in a foggy labyrinth, but not the ones with squiggly lines and pathways— every time I ran, I moved nowhere. My feet sank into the damp sand, leaving deep indents in the tan beach, as the rumbling of the waves grew louder.

I looked down and seafoam curled around my ankles, and I tried running away from the waves, but there was no escape. It was a never-ending maze of mist and grey. When I realized this, that's when I saw it, the body from yesterday, on the sand as shallow water lapped around it.

I went closer to it (I'm not even sure why my dream self thought it was a good idea). The harsh rumbling of the ocean seemed to fade away into the background. Deep crimson tendrils surrounded the body like a halo as bits and pieces of torn kelp peppered the body. I could hear a soft sound coming from the body.

I kneeled down and placed my ear against its mouth. There was a gurgling sound coming from the body, an endless bubbling.

There was a loud cough, spewing water onto my ear. I leapt backwards, falling with my back on the sand as the shallow waves swept me up, covering my whole body. There was nothing but dark blue in my vision.