Category Archives: Short Stories

Crystal Clear

December 27 – (7 AM) – The low hum of machinery outside the apartment building wakes me up from a restless sleep. The red glare of the sun is slyly peeking through the blinds. The sun is always red now, ever since it happened. Jake is still asleep and groaning as he dreams. He’s holding his stomach from the pain. I kiss him lightly so I won’t disturb him and then walk over to the window.

The drilling machines are here. I heard about them on the news, these special deep-sea drilling machines that are going to save us. They are going to use them to search for fresh water underneath the ocean floor. I don’t think they’ll find any.

(9 AM)– I am watching the news. Again. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. With everything that’s happened, you just can’t be too informed nowadays. There’s more talk about the water. It’s all they talk about. The water has changed somehow, not just here, but apparently all over the world. At first people said it was due to nuclear radiation, or an asteroid that passed too close or maybe it’s part of what the Mayans prophesied all those centuries ago.

A scientist is now on the news talking about how global warming could have triggered this somehow. “It’s a natural phenomenon,” he says. Global warming? Isn’t that just a myth? At least that’s what the gas companies say.

They were interviewing a preacher earlier. He ranted about this being only one sign of what he called the “end of days.” He held his head high with stupid arrogance and proclaimed, “It’s “God’s Wrath” due to all the homosexuals and the unholy ways. God don’t like sin!” I don’t really know what to think, but I doubt God would make people that way and then kill us all because of it. After all, don’t they say, “God doesn’t make mistakes!” I know it’s mean to call someone stupid, but that preacher’s arrogance isn’t going to help him in all this mess and just makes him look like a horse’s ass. Does God allow arrogant horse’s asses into heaven? Lord, I hope not!

I think no one really has a clue about what caused it. I do know, however, that someone had better find some drinkable water soon or we won’t be around long enough to argue about who is going to Hell and who isn’t.

(11 AM)– Jake is still sleeping. He clutches his stomach and moans. He drank the water. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know. I was watching the news when the emergency announcement turned the screen red with the flashing words, “WARNING! WARNING!” and the reporter stated that all city and well water in our area was somehow contaminated. It had become acidic. Not in the sense of acidic and alkali p.H. levels like in a pool, but as in deadly acid, hydrochloric acid, to be exact.

A few hours later, another reporter announced that it wasn’t just a local problem. They had reports across the country. The acid was in fresh and salt water, any water that wasn’t already bottled. It was diluted enough that no one realized it was there, at first. But people have died so it’s still potent enough to be very dangerous. I think Jake will pull though. I hope so.

(Noon)– Jake is awake. He’s a bit cranky but how can I blame him? He’s in the bathroom. No one should have to listen to someone vomiting. It always sounds so disgusting, like your insides are about to explode out of your mouth. At least he’s just making low gurgling belches now. I pray it’s a sign he’s getting it out of his system.

I pour us both a small amount of distilled water that we had in the fridge. It’s almost gone. I don’t know what we’ll do when we run out. It’s all the water we have left and there’s none anywhere we can get our hands on. Those damn thieves raided stores, restaurants, even people’s houses. Anything drinkable was taken. Someone has water, but it’s not us. I sure hope they find more water soon.

(2 PM)– Jake shuffles into the kitchen and tries to drink the water I poured, but he can’t keep it down. He takes a swallow and it comes right back up. He gags and chokes, then spits what looks like pink kool-aid into the sink. “Don’t drink anymore. You’re wasting what we have left,” I say. He mumbles something hateful as he heads back to the bedroom. I drink the rest of his water since he can’t. It was good, but it makes me feel so guilty.

(4 PM)– I am tired of watching the news. It’s the same thing over and over. “Our search is desperate!” they say with stern expressions. Yes, I get it already! It seems hopeless. They’ve even tried to neutralize the acid, but it just doesn’t stop working!

When it first happened, I thought to myself, “Why don’t they just import water from other countries?” It was the perfect solution! Hell no! They had already thought of that, but the death reports rolled in like a tidal wave before a deal could even be made. It didn’t matter. Yeah, those freaking Mayans knew what they were talking about. The world is in dire straits.

Scientists are saying that land animals are dying off too. Dumb animals won’t stop drinking the water even with all the dead fish floating belly up in it. Vegetation is also being affected. Trees are dying and smaller plants are shriveling up. Please, God. We need good water!

(8 PM) – I just drank the rest of the water. I couldn’t help it. I was so thirsty. I know Jake won’t mind since he can’t keep it down anyway. I look out the window and see the drilling machines silhouetted by huge spot lights. They remind me of strange prehistoric creatures. Even now there’s still a reddish glow in the sky. I pray they find water.

December 28 – (6 AM) I awoke this morning to the acrid smell of burned flesh. Jake is dead. His stomach burst open sometime during the night and the fluid spilled out, burning a huge hole in the mattress. I am still crying. I just wish he would wake up. This has to be a nightmare. But he won’t move. He’s with God now, so I guess I shouldn’t be sad. He’s no longer suffering. I thank God that I was sleeping on the couch when Jake passed. I could have died too from that horrible burning acid inside of him.

(7 AM) – I am accepting he’s gone and I have pulled him into the nursery so he can rest next to baby Jessica. They look so peaceful lying there together. I can’t help but smile.

(8 AM) -I turn on the TV and there’s no news. All that comes on is that test pattern, the one they use for the Emergency Broadcast System and the annoying beep that goes on and on. There’s nothing on the radio and no signal on my phone. I’m so thirsty but there’s no more water. I drank it all yesterday. Maybe the news will be on soon.

(Noon) – Still no news. Please help me, God. I’m so thirsty.

(3 PM) – Oh My God! I’ve figured it out! There’s no news because they’ve found water! They’ve found it! I know they’ve found it! That’s why there’s no news. The water is more important, not the damn news! They’re getting water to all of us! It’s being pumped into the pipes!

I’m so thirsty. So thirsty. There has to be water! I’ve turned on the faucet. Yes! The water looks so good. It’s good. It’s crystal clear and pure.

It tastes so good! Sooo good!

It doesn’t burn at all.

Yes! They’ve found water.

Jesus, I hope they’ve found water…