As I pace back and forth, my mind is going a million miles an hour. Where is he? Did something happen? He is never late? I can’t do this alone. Why couldn’t we have died with the other ninety-nine percent of the world? Why did we survive? I feel myself starting to hyperventilate. My breathing becomes erratic, and my chest is getting tight. I let myself slide down the wall and I clutch my knees. As much as I want to cry right now, I can’t, I won’t. I reach for my neck and grasp my necklace. A delicate gold heart-shaped locket. The locket was a gift from my parents on my thirteenth birthday. It was my mother’s, and it was her mother’s. A dainty but potent family heirloom around my neck. Inside is a picture of my parents and me as a baby. It is the only thing I have that has any sentimental meaning or significance, and it’s because I was wearing it when it all happened. It happened all so quickly, it is hard to remember it clearly. I was standing in the kitchen going through my normal morning routine. The smell of coffee brewing wafted through the kitchen. I was reaching for my mug, and that is when it happened. The ground started to shake. I dropped my mug and it smashed into a million pieces. I was frozen. I had never experienced an earthquake before. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. The shaking continued and what followed was the loudest, sharpest noise I have ever heard. The sound was so intense I fell to the ground and cupped my ears for reprieve. I passed out from the pain. When I awoke, I noticed blood on the floor. I caught my reflection on the metal of my toaster that was now on the floor lying next to me. My ears were bleeding. I had a faint ringing in my ears that just wouldn’t stop. I picked myself up off the floor. My home was in total disarray. I tried to turn on the news, but the power was out. I quickly grabbed my keys and went into my garage and tried the radio in my car. The national emergency broadcast was blaring from the speakers, but no details on what happened. I guess I had so much adrenaline and cortisol running through my veins at that time that I made the bold move to look outside. It was a beautiful clear day, the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, but it was quiet. No birds chirping, no dogs barking, no alarms, no sirens, just silence. That is when I started to notice the blood. I felt my knees start to buckle. There was so much blood. It was dotted up and down my street like a bad rash. The warm acidic regurgitation made its way up my throat as I started to gag. That’s when I met Tom, he had just come out of his house. He ran over to me, and I was startled. I noticed the trail of blood from his ears as well. He asked if I was okay. I shook my head no. Tom helped me up. That is how our relationship started. Not the Nacy Meyer’s romantic comedy I had always hoped and dreamed for when it came to meeting my person, but the geomagnetic electrical storm that wiped out the majority of humanity was our meet-cute.