A sunny afternoon in a cul-de-sac in the outskirts of San Diego. A single brown car drives down the street, to a comfy house in the back.

“It's been a good day,” The man in car says to himself, “But, it'll be better when I see my little gal!”

Before entering the house he stops near the front door and creaks open a rusty mailbox attached to the wall.

“No mail today, huh?,” He utters.

The front door swings open. He stands awkwardly in the entrance for a minute.

“That's odd,” The mumbles, “I'd be hearing her giggling by now...”

Nonchalantly, he throws his keys onto a counter near the front door.

“Hey, Catherine! Isn't Sophia outta school by now?”

No answer.

He walks into the kitchen towards the fridge.

“Took her to the dentist, see you later hun!,” Reads a crudely written letter held to the fridge by a small magnet.

“Just great, oh well.

He stands next the fridge for a moment, then opens it and grabs a single beer bottle from the top shelf.

“Need to tell Catherine to grab another twelve pack next time she's at the Super,” He utters as he slams the door.

The man plops onto the couch in front of a flat-screen and twists off the metal cap. Years of losing bottle openers made him a pro at getting them open with his bare-hands...

After digging through the cushions for a minute, he finds the remote and turns on the screen.

It slowly boots up—the brightness shines onto him.

TTTTTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIII

“That's odd,” He says while dialing a couple more channel numbers.

Static.

He hits the input button on the remote several times, stopping at each video option for a couple seconds.

“Nope, nothing.”

Begrudgingly, he stands up and walks up to the flat-screen mounted on the wall. Kneeling down next to the set, he traces a hand on a thick wire running from the cable box to the side of the television.

“HDMI2,” He reads in small print.

Using the remote he changes to the corresponding video channel.

“This is some ass,” He slips out, staring at a static screen.

He spends the next several minutes changing the HDMI cord to different ports on the TV and checking the corresponding channel.

“No luck...”

He drops back onto the couch with a sigh and grabs the nearby bottle, “At least I still got beer.”

He takes several gulps and lazily spreads his legs while letting his back droop.

He looks over to the clock on the wall behind him.

“I guess it's still early.”

“Man no TV, no Sophia, no nothing,” He says, taking another swig, before setting the bottle on the carpet nearby.

“Crappy cable company, they're gonna be hearing from me,” He notes to himself angrily.

He looks around.

“And, this living room is a mess!,” He adds, “That woman shoulda cleaned up before I got here!”

“Arrrgg, whatever!” He says aloud.

“She'd never let you hear the end of it if you gave her any lip,” He quickly reminds himself, “You love her, so suck it up buddy!”

He feels his eyes getting heavy.

“Imma get a little nap then,” He yaws, “Catherine'll wake me up.”

And with that, he falls asleep.

***

He rubs his eyes and turns to check the time again.

“It's already quarter to six!” He yells, sitting up, “Catherine, you home babe?”

No answer. He puts a hand to his ear and focuses on sound.

SSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH

“Somebody is in the shower, come on Cat, speak up!”

He grabs the half-empty bottle and takes a drink while staring at the buzzing screen.

“Man, still no signal!,” He mumbles, turning it off with the remote.

“Ugh, fine, be that way Catherine!” He yells.

“Sophia, baby, come here please!”

He waits a bit, but there is no response.

Standing up, he shouts, “What's with everybody, today!?”

The annoyed man follows the sound to the furthest bedroom.

The door on the right hand side of the room has a creak of light underneath.

“I know your there Catherine!,” He said, tapping the door with his bottle, “C'mon, don't give me the silent treatment without even telling me what I did wrong!”

He reaches for the doorknob, when suddenly the earth shakes!

BBBBTTTTOOOOMM!!!

The sound and vibration from the sudden quake nearly topple him over.

“What the hell!!,” He shouts in confusion.

“Fuck this, I'm coming in!”

He grabs the doorknob and twists, expecting it to be locked, only to find out it isn't.

“Catherine, you in here? Seriously, did you feel that!?”

The hissing of water is his only response. The curtains are partially open.

His breathing picks up as his mind begins to worry.

He walks over to the shower.

Nobody's inside.

Quickly, he turns off the shower and flips himself around.

His nerves ramp up...Something is definitely not right!

The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end—there is a presence here, there is no denying!

Nervous eyes frantically scan the room for anything to use as a weapon.

Finding nothing worth using, he quickly turns his attention to his own hands.

The bottle!

Holding onto the neck, he fiercely swings it at a nearby magazine rack, shattering the glass bottom to pieces!

He brings the crude weapon close to his chest.

“L-Listen, I know someone is f-fucking here!,” He shouts in a jittery voice, “I h-have a f-fucking gun, and I'll start firing if I have to!”

BBBBTTTTTOOOOOOMMM!!!

Another quake, this time much closer violently destroys his balance.

He outstretches both hands to catch himself as his entire house suddenly dims...

He wants to know why it became dark but decides not to think about it since he has much bigger problems...

“Gaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!”

Both hands quickly snap up as he rests on his knees.

Deep within his flesh are shards of broken glass doused in alcohol and mixed with his own blood.

He bites his lower lip.

“Mmhhhhfffffff...”

Slowly, he lifts himself on two feet.

He inches his way over to the bathroom mirror and slides it to one side.

“I'm glad I remembered to put this back in here,” He tells himself as he grabs a roll of gauze.

Gently, he puts the crude shank into the sink, and slips the gauze between his teeth.

His teeth dig deep into roll as he pulls the shards out one by one. He wants to scream out in pain, but knows that would only alert the intruder in his home...although his outburst earlier probably did that anyway.

He squeezes out a bit of anti-bacterial soap onto a palm and turns the knob on the faucet a tiny degree. A mild stream comes out.

Subsequently rinsing both hands he removes the gauze from his mouth.

Then, with one hand he wraps the other, roughly ties a knot and tugs it tight with his teeth.

He repeats for the other hand.

With the glass bottle back in possession, he carefully walks out of the bathroom and softly closes the door behind him.