A silhouette danced in front of the doorway, breaking mother’s attention from a gripping crime thriller. She paused the TV and sat up in bed, sighing.
“What happened now?” mom asked.
“Uh, I stepped in water when I went to get a soda… in the garage,” daughter said.
“A soda? Why are you drinking a soda at…” she double-tapped her phone. The screen brightened every inch of the gloomy bedroom. “… at 10 o’clock?”
“Ew, I meant La Croix, it’s in a can it just reminds me of soda, but anyway, there’s like water everywhere.”
“In the garage.”
“Oh, that’s your father’s thing. Let him know, he’ll take care of it.”
“He’s playing his game and can’t pause it.”
“So text him,” she resumed the TV.
“Okay, but it’s all on the floor!”
Mom sprinted from the bedroom and down the stairs. Daughter followed close behind, both shocked with the growing puddles they find seconds after opening the door to the garage. They backed away in disbelief.
“What happened?” dad yelled over gunshots from his game, craning his neck from the couch to see the commotion.
“We’re leaving. It’s time to move. Tell your brother!” mom yelled, her eyes possessed with fear. Daughter wrapped up her dance on Tik-Tok and went off.
Back upstairs, a cannabis vape pen hung out of mother’s mouth as she hurled luggage of various sizes out of the closet. One rolled across the floor and down the stairs into the living room, landing upright where father ended his round just in time to grab it and threw the console in. The family escaped not too long after, just as the garage filled with water of titanic proportions.
“Why are we moving?” son asked.
“The water heater burst!” mom yelled.
“Shouldn’t we call someone to fix it?” daughter asked.
“Can’t live there!” dad yelled. He put the pedal to the metal as he and his wife abandon home and responsibility.