Claire+Sentilles

Memphis: 2051

 The date is March 31, 2051. It is the 13th day of flooding, and my brother is dead.

As my mother and I whiz over the Memphis streets on our aerocars, suffering people fill the remaining dry lands. Some are drowning, some are sick, and some are on the verge of death. Unfortunately it is too late to help any of them. If my mother and I cannot reach the safety of the ginormous buildings in East Memphis, we will die.

Luckily, my father’s office building soon emerges in the distance. My father works for the USCO, which stands for United States Census Offices. The USCO building is the largest building in Memphis, one square mile wide, and over a hundred stories tall. Since Memphis's quarantine on the 10th day of flooding, the USCO has been in charge of the entire city.

When my mother and I reach the USCO, my father is waiting outside. His usual calm expression has turned into a frightened look of despair, and it looks as if he can barely keep his eyes open.

“Tim!” shouts my mother, as we are about to land. It is impossible to hear his response over the sound of the surging flood waters which can be heard from miles away. When my father sees us, he beckons for us to come quickly.

My mother and I dismount our aerocars and leave them sitting in the parking lot, ready to be demolished by the floods. As we run into the building, sirens begin to blare outside. It is dark, and the surging water is getting louder and louder.

We run up all one hundred flights of stairs, because the televators are broken due to the lack of resources in the entire country. When we reach the top floor, I am exhausted from the ten minute climb. I look around. The top floor is chaos: people running all over in search of family members, intercoms blaring in every room, and government officials trying to keep everyone calm. It seems as if half the city of Memphis is there. Immediately I begin to recognize people: my 1st grade teacher, some younger girls from school, and even the mayor of Memphis.

“Where are we going now?” my mother frantically asks my dad.

“Don’t worry, Kate,” he reassures her. “There’s a special area reserved for families who work here. Follow me!”

We walk as briskly as possible through the dense crowd. When we finally reach the reserved area, I cannot contain myself any longer. I break down crying for two reasons: I am both extremely frightened about the floods, and also elated to finally reach safety.

Father scans his hand on the I.D. panel above the doorknob, and we walk in. There are giant T.V.’s surrounding every wall, and the news is playing on all of them. We collapse on one of the couches and begin to watch the news.

“Floods on the banks of the entire Mississippi are destroying the nation,” warns the broadcaster. “If we can’t get help soon, the entire country may become submerged. So far, Memphis is worst off, and more cities will be quarantined by morning due to diseases caused by dirty water. If citizens can’t escape soon, they will be left to die in the city.”

A loud gasp echoes throughout the room as the T.V. immediately shuts off.

//Be brave, //I remind myself, but it is hard to be brave when even my patient father is beyond exasperated.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;">“We will have to escape,” my father says gravely. “Follow me.”

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;">We follow him to the roof exit of the building. “Wait here,” he tells us. “I’m sure help will arrive soon.”

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;">Unfortunately he is wrong. We wait for ten, then twenty minutes, and when we have given up all hope, a security guard walks toward us.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Where are you four supposed to be?” the guard asks gravely. He is dressed in a white bodysuit and face mask to prevent him from getting sick.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;">I have given up all hope, but my father has not. He knows the guard. “It’s okay, Robert. I work here. I’m sure the planes are on their way to pick us up now," he tells them.

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;">“I’m sorry,” said Robert, “but by this point it’s either death by drowning or death by the disease. The USCO is being taken over by government-appointed guards such as myself.”

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;">My parents and I are stunned. My father tries to stammer a response. “But…”

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 12pt;">Robert cuts him off. “I’m sorry.” He begins to walk down the hall. As his figure vanishes in the distance, I realize that this is our end...