Black Sky

1.

In the beginning no-one suspecting a thing. No-one thought it was anything but 'climate change' or 'a trick of the light' and anyone who believed otherwise was deemed insane. There was no preparation for what was to follow, no signal, no warning. Just darkness.

It was second period maths on a Tuesday morning, I had a history test in the afternoon and my ponytail was pulling my hair uncomfortably tighter with each movement I made, nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary. Just the dry tone of the teachers voice and the tapping of overpriced trainers on grimy concrete. The first 'unordinary' event occurred just after the end of lesson bell had rung, just as the classroom erupted with noise and the teacher feebly attempted to get us to scribble down the last of the notes. There was a 'pop'. It wasn't a loud noise, it didn't make my ears ring or the glass windows shatter. It sounded more like the pop your ears make when an aeroplane takes off but I was sure everyone in that room had heard it, had felt it.

There was a momentary pause,time itself had stopped but then before I (or anyone else by that matter) had properly registered what had happened the room leapt to life once again; this time more hesitantly,people unknowingly taking care when lugging piles of folders and papers into their already over stuffed bags.

The second was the cold. The spine tingling chill that crawled down the backs of the room and send a collective wave of shivering across the classroom.

I should have got up and ran, I should have run far, far away but instead I stayed plastered in place. And then came the third event. The darkness. It wasn't obvious at first because the ceiling bulbs remained fully intact. We, the class, had by this time stopped packing away and were looking around the class in bewilderment and a select few had began nervously muttering, presumably attempting to make sense of the situation. The teacher had began pacing along the front of the classroom fumbling with her chalk and my classmates and I stood solid, frozen in place by an impending sense of doom. That's when I heard the footsteps, slow at first but then quickening, the squeak of plastic on concrete. Nearer and nearer until they were outside the peeling off-white door.

It's funny how in moments of immense emotion you can remember everything. Every detail. Every noise. Every sniff and tick of the clock. Every nervous tap of overpriced trainers on grimy concrete. I will never forget that sound. The frantic tapping. I hear it sometimes, when I am lying awake at night.

The door burst open and in fell a face I did not recognise; it was a face engulfed in emotion, fear, nervousness, excitement. The face glanced around the room, it's eyes darting from person to person. It took a deep breath and spoke. The words tumbled over each other, morphing into new words, slipping and slurring.

"It's gone dark"
The class sat in silent shock. Muttering. Tapping.
"No. Look. The sun, it's-it's gone"
Then everything exploded.