Day 4 (continued)

As I waited silently for my dad in my room, trying my best to ignore the pain-filled cried of Mary, minutes passed by. Those minutes inevitably turned into hours.

Eventually the dim lights provided by the sun began to fade away, and darkness approached.

I stood up from the corner I was perched in for the last few hours, and headed towards Mary, getting ready to take the sheets off of her. When I reached for them, I heard a loud knock on the door. Hope filled my heart. I sprinted towards the door as fast as possible, forgetting to look out the peephole.

I quickly opened the door, and when I realized who it was, I smile. My dad was here. His cloth were torn, and he was holding some guns.


Today was a good day. Probably the best day after that virus.

My dad was home. And together, we'd survive.