I arrived home from college to find a familiar looking land rover parked at my gate. Dad's springer spaniel Jasper sat on the back seat, wagging his tail at me. The rest of the land rover was full of baggage and possessions. I didn't feel especially good about the situation but gave Jasper a quick wave and went into the house.

It could have been mistaken for a war zone by the things being shouted across in the kitchen. I could hear mum's voice raised and dad's familiar boom. I stood at the door, ear pressed to the wood, listening. Greg cut across the argument as I started to pick up on words.

"Look," he said, "You can't just come waltzing in here after all the time you've been away."

"And who do you think you are?" Dad said. "You're not her father."

"Are you?" Greg said. "You've hardly seen her in ten years. You don't support her. You rarely even call."

"She's my daughter," Dad said. "And she deserves to be given a new chance away from all this?"

"For Christ's sake Paul," Mum told him. "Do you really think it's any different in New Zealand? Even if you get into the country, it's just going to be the same problems. Nowhere is getting through this. The world's changed, Paul."

"You and your defeatist bullshit," Dad said. And as Greg protested, he cut across. "This is all the fault of our government. It's not as if oil prices went up that much. They're just using the opportunity to raise taxes and limit our freedoms, as usual.Me and Emma have had enough. Mia's coming with us."

I listened with horror at the door. They wanted me to go to New Zealand? I mean, no offense to those down under but I rather like it here! I started to open the door, ready to storm in and join the argument.

"I wouldn't love." I turned to see Uncle Andy standing at the foot of the stairs, looking down at me.

"but they want to send me away!"

"I don't think your dad's going to win this one, love. Come on." He walked past me and into the kitchen. I followed him in. My dad and his new wife Emma stood at one side of the table. Mum was sitting down, cradling a cup of tea. Greg stood near the stove, a glowering look of anger on his face. It was the most expressive I'd ever seen him.

"Mia!" Dad came over to me, arms wide, an unnaturally large grin on his face. His hair was cropped short and it made him look very different, much older and more careworn than his old shoulder length hair. His clothes were less hippyish too.

"Hello dad," I said, giving him a reluctant hug. He stood up and smiled.

"we've got some exciting news," he said.

"No," mum cut across, glaring at him, "we don't."

"Come now," dad said, "don't be like that."

"Paul!" Uncle Andy, who'd been pretty much ignored since he entered, thrust himself across the room, shaking dad's bewildered hand. "How are you doing? So did you sell the house and the farm then?"

Dad looked uncomfortable, and squirmed. Emma, a younger wife with one of those faces that looks like it's smelled something bad, looked even more affronted.

"No," Dad admitted. "Not yet."

"Couldn't find a buyer, huh?" Andy said, still shaking Dad's hand. "I suppose you're planning to sell it whilst you're out in New Zealand?"

"Of course," Emma said. Even her voice was haughty. "We know some very reputable Estate Agents that assure us house prices will have stablised in a few months."

Greg all but snorted into his drink. Andy's smile grew wider, in direct response to my dad's face growing ever more nervous.

"And New Zealand's just going to let you in?" Mum said.

"We have a lot of friends out there," Emma replied, making it very clear that we were not considered friends in quite the same way. "My father has already moved out there and he's making arrangements."

Arrangements sounded like it involved a lot of money. When Emma was involved it usually did. Mum always said Dad ran off with her because he loved the idea of a young fling that paid for him to go on holiday with her.

"So the phonelines are working out there," Andy said, "What with the crisis and all? I mean, you do have a plan for keeping track of the seller?"

"We've got a plan," Dad said, but he didn't look sure. "We've got a place to rent in New Zealand, for me and Emma and Mia."

"But I don't want to go!" I said, feeling like the luggage in the middle of some vast tug of war game. "Don't I get a say in this?"

"I'm your father," dad said. "Your mother hasn't exactly been taking good care of you, has she? She's had to start sleeping with the guy next door just to find somewhere for you all to live."

"Paul!" My mum said. Greg put down his mug and drew himself up to his full height, looking ready to punch dad right that minute.

"So you're saying," Andy said, seemingly oblivious to the growing tension in the room, "That you're going to take Mia because you don't think we can look after her properly, that we don't have the money?"

"Exactly," dad said. "I mean look at you - you get laid off and come running back here to sleep on her boyfriend's floor? She deserves better."

"I agree," Andy said. Dad looked oddly at him, starting to notice that the biting sarcasm wasn't getting through.

"So," Andy continued, reaching into his pocket, "What if I buy your farm off you?"

The room's atmosphere changed from tension to surprise. Everyone's eyes focused on Andy's hand as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. It was much thicker than it should be. Thicker because it had a large roll of 50 pound notes in it.

"Uncle Andy..." I stared at the money. It was more than I'd ever seen in one place. "Where did you get that money?"

"That's what I'd like to know," mum said, exchanging a glance with Greg.

"The Oil company paid us off," Andy said, unrolling the bills. "Insurance. You get a lot if you're injured in a terrorist attack. More if you tell them you know about how lax their security was and that the papers would be fascinated."

We stared as he placed the roll of money into Dad's hands.

"£3,000." he said.

"I'm not selling you the farm for £3,000!" Dad and Emma shouted near simultaneously.

"That's to start." Andy said. "I'll pay you 30,000 more than the asking price. Cash. But you have to leave Mia here with us. That's the deal."

The look between Dad and Emma told the whole story. Andy reached over and squeezed my shoulder. He winked.

"It's all going to be alright love." He whispered.

I have no idea if that's true. But it certainly feels a lot more alright than it could have been.

[Author's note: week 27

This is an event I've been planning for a while, to begin wrapping up the story arc. It's a few days later than planned due to revision but here it is.]

Finally, I stole time when mum wasn't around and dad was online. phoned him on Skype and he seemed surprised to hear my voice.

"Hello Mia," he said, "does your mum know you're calling?"

"No," I said. She was next door with Greg again but I didn't tell him that. "I just wanted to see how you were doing, with the oil crisis and all."

"Oil crisis?" he sounded puzzled. "I wouldn't worry about that."

Now at this point I should explain about my dad. He's not the most... concentrated of people. He didn't fight custody of me and David because he didn't want conflict. Sometimes that makes me angry at him, sometimes I just wish I could see him more. He's a hippy that lets a lot of life pass him by but he's my dad and he makes me feel safe.

"I was thinking," I said to him, "If things get bad, we should come to the farm and stay with you, just until things get better."

"I'm not sure," he said, sounding a little freaked by the idea of his ex-wife and estranged kids visiting his new world. "I mean of course I'm here for you love but I wouldn't want to upset your mother."

After that I lost my enthusiasm for the conversation and it was just small talk about the plants and animals on his farm. He sounds like he's pretty comfortable - there's lots of meat from the lambing season, the veg are starting to be harvested and that solar panel he invested in last year is keeping the fridges cool through the brownouts - although he told me the electricity supply is pretty good because of all the wind turbines in the Welsh hills. I saw on the news that the Prime Minister's having another 100 installed asap.

"well love," he finished with, "If you want to come up with David for the harvest, we'll sure be happy to have the help! Now I've got to go, the cows need to be brought in."

"Alright dad," I said. The call hung up. What a let down. When I'm with dad he makes me feel like I can do anything. When I'm talking to him from afar, it's like he hardly remembers who I am. I can tell he's scared to see mum again, too. Looks like I'm stuck here in Bristol after all.

I also had my last GCSE exam today, which means my school is over for the year. I think I did ok but I have to admit that all the oxbow lakes and igneous rocks made me feel like perhaps my geography exam was a little outdated. After all that' s been going on, I had to resist the urge to rant about Peak Oil on the essay question!

A couple of the girls in school were talking about getting summer jobs. Lindsey said the shop she worked in last summer isn't taking any people on this year - with the increased bills from transport they can't afford to pay anyone else. Doesn't look like that gift shop's going to do too well... One of the subways seems to be closed too. The other ones are still open but pretty empty a lot of the time.

Uncle Andy was airlifted out of Yemen yesterday following the tanker incident last week. Mum was getting really worried - Andy told us there's been a load of riots near the hospital, that a lot of the people there are really poor and don't want their oil and gas to leave the country... A terrorist group claimed responsibility, as well. they said they wanted energy independence for the middle east, like Venezuela a few weeks ago. We're just glad he's ok. He says it'll be a few weeks before he's back in the UK.

I'll feel safer with him around. Greg keeps trying to suck up to me but he's pretty bad at this whole social thing. I hope mum isn't planning to marry him - I've already got one emotionally-deficient dad, I'd rather not have another. Still, he did bring me back one of these phone chargers from his work - his company looks like they're trying to take advantage of the crisis as much as possible but it's a great way to keep connected - I even checked my emails on my phone whilst the power was out last week!

I've made some good friends over the past few weeks just talking about this crisis. youporkchop has been having some problems with his job, and i'm also rooting for nitefoll, wwo_mitchtrix and mtalon_wwo. Hope things don't get too much worse for any of you. lead_tag is in Iraq - do you think these riots are going to hurt him? I hope not.

I wonder what the world will look like next week?




[author note - Thursday, week 9

There's a couple of things I wanted to bring up but couldn't think of ways to draw them into my plotline. Firstly, the hurricane season should be well underway now that it's July - will we see a Katrina-style event catalysing a breakdown somewhere? Secondly, it's not a zero-possibility that Avian Bird Flu could have an impact a few months ahead - it's not a certainty by any means but over the next few years the chances of it crossing to humans is not negligible.

I haven't seen a place for me to introduce such storylines in Mia's story - Hurricanes are far less prevalent in the UK than the US and if bird flu did cause a problem it would probably start in Asia. But I thought I'd throw those plot morsels out there for anyone that wants to give them a go.]

turns out I couldn't phone dad on skype. We had a blackout Saturday like this one in London. Was a little frustrating to be without the internet, just as I'd started getting interested in finding out just what was going on with this oil crisis.

Greg from next door came around to eat on our camping stove. He works in electronics and he gave us a couple of those wind-up torches. We played monopoly for a bit but David went off in a strop when he lost. Mum blushes when she talks to Greg. I think she likes him. I'm not sure whether that makes me angry or not.

The gig I was going to see next month for my 16th birthday has been cancelled. Jonah Matranga said he couldn't afford the air fare to get out to the UK. I was really looking forward to that.

We had some bad news on Monday. Uncle Andy works on a tanker transporting oil from the middle east to Portsmouth. His ship left Dubai a week ago and was heading back to the UK. Whilst they passed Yemen, a small boat came up to the side of the tanker and exploded. No one's claimed responsibility but a lot of people's thoughts are on Al Quaeda. The picture of the tanker with tons of oil and fire pouring out of it looks like something out of that terrible Kevin Costner movie. Waterworld? I hope it doesn't sink. Just think of all the animals around there.

We heard about it on the news, of course - we just didn't think it would be Andy's ship until mum got the call. He's ok - they got everyone off the ship pretty quick - but he's in some terrible hospital and doesn't know when he'll be back. Mum stayed out at Greg's that night.

I went on the computer to phone dad again but he wasn't online. I keep getting worried about staying in Bristol - the papers keep talking about all the burglaries and car thefts increasing. I want to go see dad in Wales - there's no one around for miles and there's plenty of food. A lot of this online stuff is pretty pessimistic - for all mum's stockpiling of rice and toilet paper, will we be able to hold up if everything goes crazy?




[writer's note: week 8, Wednesday

I originally intended to have the tanker captured but figured this would be impractical and unlikely. Instead I based my incident around this one in 2002.

Of course, though I don't want to ruin the perspective in my story by overly analysing something Mia wouldn't fully grasp, this incident could have major implications for oil and share prices and as the ship was carrying gasoline to the UK, prices here can expect to rise as a major proportion of incoming supply is removed.

(This is a fictional account from the fantastic alternative reality game World Without Oil join in! )]