I originally wrote this story during my senior year, as part of my school's course on creative writing. To date, it is the longest story that I am continuing to work on. After the class ended, I still continued to work on this story, which I hope to one day expand into something longer.

Miguel kept flipping the light switch on and off, as if the bulb would magically turn on by itself. He knew it wouldn’t work, nothing was working. He had lost track of how long it had been at this point, and he was getting worried that his old flashlight would run out of batteries soon.

Guzman slogged in, flashlight in hand. The light was dim, but was still wide enough to cover part of the room in a very soft, golden glow. He sighed as he dropped onto the bed. He lied there in silence, lost in his own thoughts, until he finally groaned, “How long have you been trying to get the lights on?”

“Not that long”, Miguel muttered in response.

“Sure, I totally believe that. Why are you even trying? Nothing’s gonna happen.”

As Miguel moved his hand from the switch, Guzman got up from the bed and went over to the dresser. He dug around in the top drawer, occasionally leaning in to get a better look. There was the sound of loose coins jingling and pencils rattling around on the wood.

“What’re you looking for?”

“The batteries.”

“There aren’t any, I checked already.”

“You checked all the drawers?”

“All of ‘em.”

“Are you sure?” Miguel paused briefly before saying “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

Miguel shut off his flashlight, using his brother’s to see the papers. He gathered the loose leaf, the textbooks, and his old notebook. As he looked for his pencils, the light suddenly disappeared from the room, along with Guzman. He heard footsteps thunder down the hall, followed by the sound of something opening and glass breaking. Confused, Miguel got up and followed the vague glow down the hall and into the kitchen.

The kitchen was small enough for the light of the flashlight to reach every corner. The smell of spoiled food filled the entire room, and he watched as Guzman desperately searched through the unlit fridge for something that hadn’t already gone bad. He held up a container of something neither of them could identify, only to throw it on the floor with the rest of whatever was in the fridge. Miguel looked on in silence. Guzman turned to see his younger brother staring down at him.

“Was that everything?” Miguel asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah… yeah, that was it. Unless there’s something else in the cupboards, but I doubt there’d be anything up there.”

Everything fell quiet again.

Guzman clenched the small carton of spoiled milk in his hands before he went over to the sink. As he poured out the milk, Miguel began to clean up the things on the floor. There weren’t too many, but Guzman had made more of a mess than they had realized. Some had spilled, a few had broken when they hit the ground, including a beer bottle that had fallen out of the fridge door. Guzman heard the glass and the broom against the tile.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m cleaning this up.”

“No the hell you aren’t. I’m cleaning this, move over.”

“I don’t get what you’re so upset about. It’s no big deal, Dad lets me clean stuff like this up all the time.”

Guzman glared at him before saying “forget what he said. I said no”.

“Then what am I supposed to do, huh? Since you’re clearly Dad now. What’s next, are you-”

“God, will you just shut up and move?” Guzman snapped without warning.

Miguel stood there and stared like he had seen a ghost. Guzman looked like he had just committed a crime, like he had done something absolutely unforgivable. The tension hung in the air like smoke in a burning room. Miguel was the first to try and force out a sentence.

“Sorry, I-”

Guzman cut him off. “It’s…It’s not your fault.”

They hesitated to say anything else.

Guzman took the broom and swept up what was left of the glass.

“Can you help me look through the cupboards?”

Miguel nodded, and they began opening each cupboard. Each one had almost nothing. Sometimes there were things like maple syrup, or some ketchup, but there wasn’t anything that could be an actual meal. They kept looking, until eventually Miguel came across a small, unopened box of white rice in the back of the last cupboard, collecting dust behind some bottles.

“I found some rice, but that’s pretty much it.”

“That’s gonna have to do for now. I’ll have to buy some stuff in the morning.” Guzman grabbed a match and lit the stove as Miguel took his seat at the table. Until then, neither of them had heard their father’s soft breathing from the couch.

“I don’t know how he could just sleep through all this.” Miguel turned back around towards the kitchen.

“Me neither. He’s been sleeping for a good 3 hours, maybe 4.”

“How many did he bring home this time?”

“You’re the one at the table. See for yourself.”

He searched through the papers for a while, before he pulled out a few small, colorful pieces of paper.

“Seven, I think. Maybe more.”

Guzman sighed. “I swear, he spends more on those than on-” Guzman cut himself off. “Forget it. Just put those in that box over there.”

He picked up a banged-up shoe box from underneath the table. It was full of lotto tickets just like the ones in his hand, scratched out and useless. Except one.

“Hey, one of these isn’t scratched out yet.”

“You might as well use it. He’s probably not gonna notice.”

Miguel looked around for coins before finding a nickel where he found the tickets.

“You got anything?”

“Ten bucks.”

“Wow, Ten whole dollars! Oh my God, we’re rich!” Guzman shouted sarcastically as he brought the plates to the table.

They laughed as Miguel crammed the ticket into his pocket. “I mean, it’s probably better than nothing. We could use it for food.”

“True. Or maybe you could use it for your college fund?” Miguel’s smile faded away.

“What college fund? It’s not like there’s enough for me to actually go anywhere good.”

“But it’s a start. Trust me, you’re gonna need whatever you can get. What are you studying, anyway?”

“Business, maybe.”

“Nice”, Guzman leaned in a bit, looking to hear more. “You can make a lot from stuff like that.” Miguel paused for a moment before he asked, “What were you gonna study?”

Guzman looked like the question had stabbed him straight through the heart. He sat there, too dumbfounded to make a sound. His brother was puzzled.

“Biochemistry.”

“What made you stop?”

“Ran out of money.” He rested his head on his arm. “I might as well have quit. Where can you even go with a Biochemistry degree anyways?”

“But it was something you liked, wasn’t it?” Guzman didn’t bother responding. Miguel changed the subject.

“I found out that I might be able to get a full scholarship for Canisius College.”

Guzman perked up again. “Is that a good college?”

“I think, but I need to check later.”

“Looks like you got it all figured out, huh? Good.” Guzman’s smile was surprisingly warm. It was as comforting as it was rare. Guzman had no idea how confused Miguel was, how scared he was. But his brother’s happiness about his “plan” was something he couldn’t take away.

The light above the table started to flicker with an unsteady but bright light, before it finally turned on completely. Just like that, the blackout was over. Through the window, you could see Kingsbridge light up again, you could hear cheering from downstairs. The clock read 11:09 PM.

“Great”, Guzman mumbled bitterly, “the power comes back on just when we need to go to bed.”

“I’m just happy it’s over.”

“At least the fridge is running again, so I can replace the stuff that went bad.”

Guzman pocketed the coins on the table and picked up the plates.

“I’ll wash these, you go to bed. You’ve been up for long enough.”

“I’m almost an adult, I think I can handle being up until midnight.”

“Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before he got into his bed, Miguel flipped the light switch, almost like he was checking to see if it actually worked. Sure enough, it switched on, just as it almost always does. His things were scattered all over the bed. His work was unfinished, but he decided that it could wait for a bit longer. He shoved it all into his bag before walking over to the window. He looked down into the still-open top drawer of the dresser to see old chemistry textbooks collecting dust, and a single small battery.