Kendra Watkins lives in the East Village, a neighborhood that borders Church Row and the Warehouse District. She has three siblings, two brothers and a sister. Her mother is a stay at home mom and her father works as an administrations assistant at Schmidt & Siefker, an insurance firm in the Business District.
It was early on the two hundred and fifty second day, a Saturday.
“Kendra.” Her mother knocked on the door as she pushed it open. Her daughter was lying on her bed with her new headphones on, eyes closed, arms at her sides.
“Kendra.” Jaclyn Watkins said louder. She then made a face and sat down on the bed next to her daughter. The shift in motion alerted the girl to her mother’s presence.
“Hi mom.” She said, taking the headphones off, trying not to wince as the noises came back. Her mother’s cellphones, the house’s televisions and computers. Their voices flowed in through her open bedroom door and mixed with that of her mo