Blackout

Chapter I

In the distant, suburban city of Brea, California is where this story is set, where none is too foul and the rest is never too high. The streets were hardly quiet, but when it was, the pitch, black night was more calm than any other park or cemetery there is. Cars only crossed when the time came, and pedestrians were never rushed, so this concluded with a mutual relationship more than anyone has ever seen. Shops and stores were all black within, except for the ones that ran twenty-four hours, and those that were still alive had cars parked outside with very little people sitting and dining. Gas stations were still open, couldn't really see why they wouldn't, and surprisingly so were some of the clothes shops that had people, almost above or around mid-age, looking around. But then again it was only 11:10.

My driver slowed at a red light as I looked out into the black night, seeing only the black shops and the black figures wandering the night. This was truly, utterly peaceful, more peaceful compared to any other city I have ever lived in. Judging from what I can see, the Breains (I assume is what they call themselves) seem really friendly to each other. I was anxious to meet one of them, not that I think they're different from me, but I just haven't met people outside of Rhode Island or anywhere beyond the East Coast. I've been told that people in the west have those Western accents like those cowboys in those movies, but I was determined to find out for myself. I was excited. My driver appeared to be from Brea, but I was too nervous to talk to him. I stole a few glances at him every now and then, and I gather he's getting a bit awkward whenever he looked into his rearview mirror and saw me staring at him at the same time. I don't blame him, but he just seems really intriguing (not in a stalker-ish way at all).

"Any family members you're visiting?" My driver asked, looking into his mirror and finding me looking back.

"Hm?" I asked, distracted from my constant daydreaming.

"Is there anyone you're visiting in Brea?" He repeated.

"Oh, no. I'm just here to look at the city." My driver nodded his head and continued to stare at the road. "Are you from around here?" I asked, finally pushing myself to come to the question and feeling a rush of heat through my head and into my chest.

"Here?" My driver said, glancing into his mirror and pressing onto the gas pedal. "Yeah. I live on the outskirts. Right at the borderline of Brea and Yorba Linda."

"Really? What's that like?" I asked more interested in this conversation than anything else as I jumped from my seat and leaned against the back of his.

"Which one?"

"Brea, of course. What's this city like? Is there anything that would be interesting to my liking?" I said, daydreaming as I jumped back into my seat and pressed my hands against the window and stared out at the passing trees and cars. "Any historical phenomenon that involved this unknown city? Any scandals that would float this city into the media? Any news worthy events that that could possibly fill my heads with thoughts that can never be felt again?" I leaned back against the driver's seat to wait for his answer.

"Uh," he said slowly almost hesitating at first. "Recently that I know of? Our police department won a lawsuit for shooting an unarmed man from Yorba Linda. Is that what you mean?"

I sighed. "Not really. It's interesting, but not really what I'm looking for."

"Well, why are you here, then?" My driver asked turning right into a neighborhood.

"I just want a sense of adventure, something to grab my hands on, something to grip my teeth with, something to wrap my thoughts around."

"Say, are you with the media?"

"Me? No. I declined their offer after I graduated from Johnson and Wales in Providence. I didn't really feel media or newspaper were in my area. You see, I lived in Providence for high school. When I was a child, around elementary, preschool age, my parents told me that we used to live around here, but I didn't really remember much of it. I went through a car crash when I was about in junior high and lost most of my memories when I was a child. I only remember the gruesome parts about living here, never the good ones. So, I've sworn off coming back here until just last month. That's when People Magazine found me when they heard I was going to California. They wanted me to look around Brea once I got there and maybe drive off around in Orange County and maybe look around L.A. as well, but I wasn't into much of the whole walking around and taking pictures and getting information on useless things. To be honest, I don't really care about what's going on with our celebrities."