Day 4

Rays of sunshine filtered through my dirty window, gradually moving about my room, returning the familiar colors of the objects they touch. I still expected to hear the sounds of passing cars, the chatter of busy people and the chirping of birds on my once busy street. But since the great outbreak, it was as if the world were a giant T.V. set whose volume was turned all the way to zero. I never, ever, in my wildest dreams, imagined a world so quiet, so peaceful ... so dead... Only the incessant screams and echoing rampages of the mutated ones outside after nightfall reminded me that I were not deaf.

I gingerly rose from the floor, carefully shifting my weight so as to avoid waking Mary up and inched my way towards the vertical blinds. My fingers parted the yellow, sun-stained blades and I saw rows and rows of smashed cars and shattered windows. Three days have pasted since I last saw my dad. Along with the meager supplies he managed to scavenge, he had brought Mary, a skinny, red-headed girl, not much older than I was. He told me that he had found her inside a Kiosk, whose iron curtain wasn't fully extended. Upon looking at her wounds, it was obvious that she was attacked by those things that roam the night. She probably tried to hide inside the shop and couldn't close the rolling curtain in time. From what I could gather from the internet before the power went out, the welts on her body and blood-shot eyes were signs that she was infected with the Doomsday virus. Soon, she would lapse into a deep coma and transform into one of those things out there. For that reason, we tied her to my bed and I slept on the floor away from her. My dad had asked me to take good care of her and that, while the virus hasn't fully transformed her, there were still hope. He told me that he would find some more food and medicine and that he would return before sunset. He told me to lock the doors behind him and to never look out the window at night. That was three long nights ago and I am starting to believe that my dad would never return.

Hearing the her soft painful moans beneath her sheets and the evergrowing pang in my stomache, I viewed my baseball bat and wondered if I should step outside and find something, anything that would help. Maybe I should wait for my dad, he promised me that he would return and he never broke his promise...