It was a dark and stormy night. The wind blew my hair behind me. Behind me was a place I was still unwilling to look. What had happened to me was terrible – too terrible for words or even pictures to describe. I wiped the water droplets off the face of my watch. I had a few hours until the game started. I settled into a slow jog. The rain started slowly, but by the time I reached my destination, my hair dripped like honey does from a child’s mouth. I was wet. Too wet for words or even pictures to describe. The door creaked as I entered the common room. The stale air of the dorm forced me into a fit of coughing. I took off my bag and coat, made a bowl of popcorn, sat down, and picked up the television remote. But something wasn’t right. The batteries. The batteries were missing. I got up to ask my roommate if he had some spares. But our room was empty. It was quiet. Too quiet for words or even pictures to describe. That was the moment I realized I was the only person in the building. I shouted, helpless and alone, for what seemed like hours on end. I was breaking down – I needed comfort and pity. Trembling, I fumbled for my phone. There was no dial tone. I laughed through salty tears at the irony. I’m Amish. And a day student. I needed batteries. Boarder or not, I was determined to watch the game. I did a barrel-roll into the hallway and back into the rain. The downpour was torrential, and I opened my umbrella. As a print of the Mona Lisa unfurled across the waterproof canvas, I slowly dragged one foot in front of the other. Walking has been hard for me ever since the accident. I arrived at CVS in seven and a half minutes. I felt strange when I realized that yet again, I had not seen one person on my walk into town. I could not dwell; I had batteries to purchase. The rows upon rows of electronics intimidated me, but I quickly found what I was looking for: a cornucopia of multi-colored batteries in flashy packages. The bag holding my purchase as I walked out of the store was as heavy as a six-pound watermelon. The trudge back up the hill took an extra minute or two. I called everyone on my contact list, but no one answered. I was getting scared. I’ve seen more believable Twilight Zone episodes that what was happening to me. I sat on the steps outside Samuel Phillips Hall, letting the rain hit my face and soak my clothes, and I cried myself to sleep. I woke to the sound of footsteps all around me. As I rubbed my eyes, the figures of students swam into focus. I looked about. Children my age resembling my classmates rushed to and fro. I stopped one of them and looked him in the eye. “Where am I?” I croaked. “Um, Eli, are you ok?” said the stranger. His deep voice rang through my ears, pulling me from my deep sleep. “How do you know my name!?” I shouted as I whipped out my bowie knife. “Whoa, calm down. Hey man, be cool, don’t you have to get to Chorus? It’s like 6:30.” And then I knew. Emergency all school meeting! I had missed the emergency all school meeting! As the different clusters filed into the Chapel for the sixth consecutive week in emergency fashion, I had been absent. That was why I was so alone! It was so simple, yet so sad. I ran across the campus shouting with joy. I was not alone! Oh joyous day! And for the first time in a while, I smiled.
