I always sleep with my blackout curtains drawn tight. Tonight I woke up abruptly from a dream I couldn’t remember, only to find that my blackout curtains were slightly ajar. A long beam of moonlight shone across my room and onto the foot of my bed. I picked up my phone to see the time. My lock screen read 3:33. As my eyes focused, I realized my phone was blown up with messages. Friends were posting on social media about how beautiful the moon looked tonight. Family was texting me, asking if I had seen the moon. Then I noticed. There was one number I didn’t recognize. It’s text read, “DON’T LOOK AT THE MOON.” My heart raced. I turned my phone off and shut my eyes. I refused to open them until morning. My alarm blared at 8:30. The curtains were shut tight. I slowly got out of bed, and gathered my courage. I ripped my curtains open. Daylight had never been so good. However, I couldn’t help but notice how empty the city's streets looked. Not a single person was outside. No one walking their dog, no one on their way to work. I stepped outside. Silence. I looked at my phone. All of the messages from the night had disappeared. Everything, everyone, was gone. I looked up. No clouds, no aircrafts; nothing but clear blue skies, and the bright sun.