The End of the World

Cordelia first realised something was wrong when she turned the corner of the block and drove down the road towards her house. There were big trucks parked out on her drive, where she was supposed to put her own car. And as she got closer, she saw groups of neighbours standing out on their doorsteps, watching something, and when she was closer still, she saw some of their furniture out on the front yard, as if waiting to be loaded into the trucks.

She didn't understand. It looked like they were moving but … they weren't moving. She didn't get what was going on.

She pulled her car to a stop, and stepped out onto the sidewalk. 'You Cordelia?' a man in shirtsleeves asked her, checking a clipboard.

'Yes - what's …?'

But the man cut her off. 'OK, get the tow truck,' he called to one of the other's 'This is the car we were waiting on - one red Chrysler Cirrus, license plates … Queen C.'

'Wait - what's going on - hey! Stop!' She tried to grab hold of the man attaching her car to the tow truck, but he shook her off and ignored her.

'Hand me the keys to the car,' the man with the clipboard said.

'What? No! Tell me what's going on!'

'Your car is being repossessed - now hand over the keys, otherwise we will call the police.'

'What?' She handed the keys over, disbelievingly. 'This must be some mistake,' she said, shaking her head.

'No mistake.'

She became aware of the neighbours watching her, their prying eyes watching the drama unfold, enjoying every moment of it. As the tow truck drove away, pulling her car and leaving her suddenly exposed to the view of the whole street, she dashed through her yard - around the large pieces of furniture laying abandoned out there - and ran into the house, calling for her parents.

'Mom? Dad? What's going on? Mom?'

There were more men inside, all with clipboards, packing things up. They ignored her and she walked through the rooms, feeling suddenly like she was invisible, like she had died and was now watching the living pack up her things and forget all about her - unable to be heard, unable to tell them she was still there, that they needed to put her stuff back.

'Mom?' she called again, her heart was hammering inside her chest. She didn't get it. Something was wrong, horribly wrong, but she didn't know what - or where her parents were.

...

Eventually, she found her mom in the kitchen, just standing there, listlessly, in her dressing gown, a glass of red wine in her hand. 'Mom what's going on? What's happening? Who are these people? What are they doing with our stuff?'

Mrs. Chase just stared blankly out of the window.

'Mom?!'

'We were audited,' her mom said, still staring out of the window - her voice as blank as her eyes. 'The IRS … they found...'

'What? What's going on? Where's dad?'

'The police station.' Mrs. Chase took a sip of her wine.

'what?'

'There's been a mistake on his taxes. He's underpaid.'

Cordelia wrinkled her nose. 'Well, they can put that right. If it's just a mistake - he can't owe that much. If it was just once...'

'Twelve.'

'What?'

'It wasn't just once. It was twelve times. Twelve years. He owes hundreds of thousands of dollars. He's at the police station and …' she looked around at the room, and out into the hallway where the repo men were still packing away all their belongings. 'They're taking it all.'

'Taking all what?' her heart was hammering even harder now. And, just like when she had seen Xander kiss Willow, she felt like the whole world was being pulled out from under her and she was in freefall. There was a ringing in her ears and her mind was spinning and she felt dizzy and sick and nothing seemed to make any sense. 'What are they taking? The cars?'

'All of it.'

The man from outside walked in, he took a pen from behind his ear and used the tip of it to skim down the forms, 'says here there's a palomino horse, kept in stabling outside of town, where would that be?'

'Keanu?' She looked from the man to her mom, 'he means Keanu? Mom - they can't take Keanu! He's mine. Mom!' tears had sprung into her eyes, but the man was still ignoring her - as if she wasn't even there - and her mom ignored her too, taking another sip of the wine and giving the address of the stables.

Cordelia felt her bottom lip tremble. She bit it, trying to stop herself from crying, bringing up a hand to dash away her tears. She couldn't believe this. They seemed to be serious about taking away her pony. And her mom was just letting them, giving them the address where Keanu would be - as if they somehow had the right to do this. And no one would listen to her protestations. It was like a waking nightmare.

And there was worse yet to come. Another man appeared, with a box filled with clothes and yet another clipboard and spoke to the man in charge. 'I think I've got all the designer items here, anything that's worth anything.'

'What?' She couldn't stop the words from tumbling from her lips. 'You can't take our clothes,' she looked at her mom, 'they can't take our clothes.' But her mom just continued drinking, and the men only gave her an irritated glance and then continued their discussion.

Still feeling invisible, and now feeling sick, her heart still thumping erratically and frantically against her rib cage, she staggered her way over to the breakfast nook and sank down into one of the chairs. She leaned her elbow on the table and buried her face in her hands, massaging her brow. This couldn't be happening. This was … the world was ending right here and now. Everything was being taken away and she didn't understand why or what it meant or how this could happen. And her dad - he was at the police station, was he under arrest? Was he going to jail? No one was giving her any answers and her mom … her mom seemed to have just checked out of the whole situation, standing there, drinking the pain away and just letting all this go on around her.

Cordelia didn't understand why her folks weren't putting up more of a fight. The IRS couldn't just come and take away their things like this: their cars, their televisions and leather sofas, their designer lamps, Keanu, their jewellery, their clothes. This was … this was unAmerican.

...

She didn't know how long she sat at the table, her head buried in her hands - as the repo men moved around her house and took away all her things, removed all the possessions that made up her life, obliterating her existence as if it had never been. But it must have been hours, because the sun moved across the kitchen window and had begun to set before the men were done and they cleared out.

The one in charge showed the forms to Mrs. Chase before he was done, made her sign - to agree that all this had been seized legally and taken into government custody and not stolen. From over in the breakfast nook, Cordy heard their low voices murmuring. 'You need to be out of the house by the weekend,' the man said.

'What do we do with the keys?'

'We'll come back - you can hand them over.'

And then the men were gone, and Mrs. Chase was pouring another drink. Cordelia finally looked up. She felt … numb. She couldn't believe this. 'What did he mean?' she asked blankly. She stared off into nothingness. 'What did he mean we need to be out of the house by the weekend?'

'What he said,' Mrs. Chase downed her whole glass and poured another drink. 'They're taking the house. I told you. They're taking it all.'

'But where will we go?' she asked, feeling sick again. Her mom didn't answer. 'Where will we go?'