Read Online Tonight The World Dies by Amber White - Free Book Online Page A

Lightning again- bathing the room in bright, pure white light, penetrating my closed eyes. I counted the seconds- three- until the next thunderclap. I lay there, tired, unable to fall back asleep. The rain eased back, turning into a steady drip; the thunder low and long. The objects around me slowly took shape. I looked to the window as light crept in. The longer I stared at it, the brighter it got. The rain picked up again. I could soon identify the contents of the room, still where I had left them when I went to sleep. I softly treaded back to the window. Looking out, I could see the trees and the grass. The clothes line sagged, sopping wet. It must have been around six AM. The others would be waking soon and another day of work would begin. If this kept up, I would be soaking wet within minutes of stepping outside. Smiling placidly to myself, I dressed, forgoing a sweater for a long sleeved shirt. No point in getting more things wet than necessary. I laid out an old tee shirt and sweats, lovingly adding a woolen sweater my mother had made for me to the top of the pile, all ready for me to change into when the work was done. I sighed, thinking of a warm fire and hot chocolate. Inexplicably, the memories of Christmases past popped into my mind. Snow, hot chocolate, eggnog, warm sweaters and socks; a brightly lit tree with ornaments older than I was. My happy family. Mom knitting by the fire, my tiny fingers trying to copy her speed as I made tiny angels and birds to add to the tree. Dad beaming at us whenever he looked up from his book. He was reading aloud A Christmas Carol- the full version- from an old leather bound book that always smelled a little musty. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I wiped them away as I pulled on my boots, making sure my face was dry before going downstairs.
    When I got to the kitchen, the storm had ceased, but black clouds threatened more to come. Elizabeth and Mary sipped coffee at the table, a strange expression crossing their faces as I passed.
    “Something wrong?” I asked. They didn’t answer.
    When Andy and Todd came in, the girls marched off, throwing me a dirty look.
    “What’s up with them?” I asked.
    “They’re just mad because they’ve been chasing after us,” Andy indicated himself and his brother. “And last night, we told them we weren’t interested.”
    “Ah, unrequited love. Something you know all about,” I said. Todd laughed.
    Outside in the mud, with rain clouds still looming overhead, I hummed to myself while I slopped a pig pen with Billie. Each of the boys had their own.
    “What is that song?” Andy asked from the next pen.
    “Black Clouds,” I said. “Why? You know it?”
    “No, that’s why I asked. It sounds so unfamiliar. Who sings it?”
    “Papa Roach,”
    “What’s a Papa Roach?” Todd asked. Billie giggled.
    “It’s a rock band from California,”
    “Never heard of ‘em.” Andy said.
    “What’s your kind of music, then?” I asked.
    “Toby Keith,” He said.
    My friends and I exchanged sideways glances at each other. We took turns boisterously singing each line of the first verse of How Do You Like Me Now? Todd and Andy joined in, earning us filthy looks from Mary and Elizabeth while they fed the pigs in the clean pens.
    They didn’t have much to complain about from where I was standing, which was ankle deep in mud and crap. Besides, they could have joined in if they wanted to.
    When we were done, everyone hosed off and went inside for lunch. It was dry and toasty warm in the kitchen, where everyone gathered for thick sandwiches full of meat and cheese and tomatoes. A pot of hot coffee and a thermos of hot chocolate made from powdered mix were kept in the center of the table, constantly being passed around from person to person.
    Just as we were finishing, the rain picked up again with renewed vigor.
    “You all get those pens cleaned up?” Brennan asked.
    We nodded, unable to speak around mouthfuls of bread.
    “Since all the animals are