This was written by me yesterday, around 7:15 PM-9:00 PM.

Tick, tock. Another minute passed by. Still nothing changes.

Surrounded by darkness, I feel helpless and alone. I'm not used being left at home during a typhoon, much more, during a brownout. The candle beside me is nearing its demise and I've got only two left. Two more and I'll be in total obscurity. Hearing the loud palter of the rain, I become more and more anxious. Mama and Kuya should be home by now - but they're not. Ate is at work. Papa is disabled. The rain won't stop. The winds won't leave. I'm crippled by fear. I could not move. I could not blink.

I'm praying for what seems like an eternity. I'm losing hope. `Cause until now, the rain is still pouring, the winds are not ceasing and everything turns into black and white.

What happened yesterday is a first. I have never seen our village flooded before. I have never experienced brownout alone. I have never felt that terrified, to the point that I'm shaking and crying at the same time.

Good thing is that a few minutes after I prayed, the rain stopped. Kuya arrived home at about 9:30 PM. Mama came in next at 1:15 AM. And the electricity was back at 5 AM or so.

Seems like God really heard me but chose to wait. Maybe the same for the rest of us.