The Time For Prayers
***
IT had officially been 2 days since I got bitten, My father patched up my arm and handcuffed my leg to a pipe in the wall. He said it was for my safety as well as his and my mother's. My mother came into the room and checked on me every hour. I knew she was crying a lot due to her reddened eyes.
My father had explained to me why this was happening after I had woken up the day after.
He explained that a few years ago when he was still in the militia, he was informed of 'the Death Cloak'. It was like an oxygen-infused nuclear virus that was the new beginning of the new world. This virus was made after the government decided that the world was too overpopulated and needed control. This virus was a deadly weapon meant to kill people in contact with it.
My Father also explained that this was why we didn't get our flu shots anymore, why we stayed away from prescribed medicine. The government was ingesting this virus into multiple people for years leading up to this day. The virus was activated by airborne toxins that were released by scientists causing people to spasm out and have critical symptoms, like bleeding from the eyes, nose bleeds, shortness of breath, blood clot build up in the lungs, and worse. These symptoms all had one outcome…death. But from my father's explanation, people don't just die. Their soul dies but their body gets controlled by the virus, gnawing at the brain. the critical part of people's brain that tells when you have eaten enough, breaks. My father doesn't know why this virus makes people attack others, my mother suggested that it is the devil using them as his servants to rid the world of god's creations.
I was scared of what would happen to me, would I turn into that 'thing' of my old neighbor or would it be worse? My symptoms were not as my father described but they were no less than terrible. My dreams felt like I was in another world…another body. Every nightmare consisted of red vision, bloodied limbs, and screams of terror from people I didn't recognize, they made me scream in my sleep. My body temperature is over 190 degrees, my father says it's a severe fever and hopefully, my torture will end soon. I don't know what he meant by that but from the cries of my mother I heard from outside the room, I knew it was not good.
Today, I felt very tired, the nightmares were nonstop, and my throat was sore from the endless screaming I did. My ankle was sore from the handcuff that my father placed on me for mandatory safety, my head ached from the constant thrashing I did in my sleep when I was trying to escape the nightmares of my dreams. I curled my body into the thick blanket, my body felt tired, and I felt my lungs closing, making it harder to breathe. My mind wondered multiple things, 'was it time?', 'Will this torture finally end?', I didn't know, but I would kill to find out.
I was so intuned in my thoughts that I didn't hear the door creak behind me and the creeping footsteps. A hand landed on my shoulder and the touch felt like my arm was being set on fire, I screamed and thrust my body away from the touch, as if it would kill me. I curl in the corner with the blanket covering every inch of my skin except my head, I see my father standing there with a sad look on his face. I was starting to hate that sad look he gave me every time he came to check up on me. I saw a syringe in his hand and I furrowed my brows, "W-What is that, papa?" I said my words coming out raspy and dry.
My father sat on the edge of the mattress, making an effort to not touch me, "It's just your morphine cara, for your skin.". From his words, I began to feel the effects of my throat and head again as the adrenaline I felt started to die down. I nodded my head at him and pulled the blanket away to give him my arm which my father had already placed an IV in on the first day when he gave me pain medicine for the bite wound. He picked up the tube, careful to not touch my skin, and injected the clear fluid into my IV, my body slowly began to feel cold.
It was soothing but felt prickly in my arm for a few seconds, I brought my arm back to my body and covered it up with the blanket. My father grabs the med kit that was on the table beside the bed and opens it. He pulls out a thermometer and puts a plastic cover over it before holding it out in front of me, I knew the drill. I put the thermometer in my mouth and after a few seconds, my father removed it.
"What does it say, papa?" I ask, my voice still dry. My father doesn't make a face but I can tell by the furrow of his brow that he is still unhappy with the number it gave.
"You are still at 190, cara," He said, sighing and rubbing his brow with his thumb, a habit he did when he was frustrated. I pulled the blanket down and moved closer to my father, not caring that my body was like a furnace, I just needed my father's shoulder. I lay my head on his shoulder and felt tears fall from my very dry eyes.
"Papa…I can't take it anymore. This torture is tearing at my sanity." I say beginning to cry harder into his shoulder. My father put his hand on my head, running his fingers through my dark wavy hair that was so similar to his except longer. "I'm sorry Zarita. I wish I knew what I could do cara, to help you more." my father said, it was clear he was on the verge of tears. The last time I'd seen my father cry was when my uncle Ricky had passed away.
We stayed there crying with each other until it was just soft sniffling. I laid my head on his shoulder with his head on top. We just sat there, enjoying the moments that might be my last. I closed my eyes, feeling sleep take me.
***
I opened my eyes, but I wasn't in the basement of my house anymore, I was outside. I looked around and was scared to see dozens of people limping and walking around me, but they weren't attacking me. I sat up and was even more freaked out when I saw my legs were longer and I was wearing men's pants.
I lifted my hands and my skin was gray, my nails were filled with dirt and dark blue veins were all over my hands. I felt numb like all the feeling in my body was gone. I hear a scream from behind me and I turn my head to see three men running and multiple 'things' following them. I tried my best to get to my feet, wobbling as I used my hands to push myself up from the floor. The men grew closer and I wobbled toward them, trying to help but they only screamed and tried to avoid me.
I felt confused in multiple ways, why were they scared, and why were other people chasing them? A huge force knocked me into a car near me. I looked at my shoulder and saw a black ooze coming from it, I looked up to the culprit who had hurt me and saw a man with a gun in his hand. All I felt was fear gripping me, he grew closer and pointed the gun at my head, I was about to put my hands up to block it, but felt nothing, no force, no pain, nothing. I looked to see if he shot me already but I only saw three people on top of the man, he was screaming. I saw blood start to pool under him and when I went to try and save him. Until I saw why there was blood, They were eating him!
I felt sick to my stomach, I had heard of cannibalism but I only heard of it happening in different parts of the world, like tribes from islands, but this was crazy. I moved away, watching as the man tried to escape but failed, locking eyes with him as I tried my best to not vomit. Me and the man stared at each other for a long second until the spark in his eyes began to fade before my very eyes until he was dead.
I wanted to cry, I wanted to hide, I had just witnessed a man lose his life before my very eyes, and I did nothing. I did nothing…
***
I jump started out of bed, panting for air, whilst holding onto my chest. I looked at my surroundings and saw my mother standing in the doorway crying, and my father standing near my bed with a gun in his hand with tears still falling from his eyes. It took me a moment to take in what was actually happening, my arms were tied to the bed, my body was covered in ice and my skin was paler than ever. I looked over at my father again, he didn't have the gun raised anymore and was assessing me as if he didn't know who I was.
"Papa?" I say, my voice coming out clearer than I thought it would. My mother broke down and ran to me, chanting relief in Italian, confusing me even more. My father let out a huge sigh which looked to be relief and kneeled next to me along with my mother and began to untie my arms.
"Papa, mama, what happened?" I asked them as I sat up straight, moving the ice packs off my body. "You had passed out cara, you were twitching in your sleep and making weird noises, we were scared it was time." My mother cried as she began to hug me close, caressing my hair softly. My mind went back to the weird dream I had, it felt so real, almost like I was really living the body of someone else, or someone else.
I hugged my mother back, trying to calm her tears and reassure her that I was okay. It was then that I realized that I didn't feel hot anymore, my head wasn't hurting, I felt different. I look down at my hands to see blue veins appearing on my palm, I move the blanket from my legs to
reveal vibrant blue veins all over my legs. Fear filled me, was I gonna turn into them, was I gonna die?
I looked at my father, he had a scared look in his eye. He pulled my mother back, "Amore, leave the room, now!" he ushered her out of the room, even when she cried and scratched to get to me. He closed the door and locked my mother out, I could hear her cries as she pleaded to my father not to "do it". I knew what she meant, I knew what my father would be forced to do. He didn't turn away from the door for a long minute, having one hand on the gun in his hand and the other on the door, that was still locked.
I heard his silent sobs and saw the heavy rise and fall of his shoulders. I knew he didn't want to do it, I knew he didn't want to hurt me, or worse, pull the trigger on me. I sat up on my knees, the plastic in the bed, crunching beneath me. I wanted to hug him, I wanted to hug my mother, I wanted to say goodbye to my mother one last time. I let my tears fall, "Papa, it's okay." I said, causing him to turn and look at me. I held my hand out towards him, making him come closer.
He grasped my hand and kissed it before kneeling on the edge of the bed. I touched my forehead to his, wiping it tears away with my thumb. "It's going to be okay. Don't cry." I said, holding him close. I grabbed the gun with my hand, taking it from him, as his head fell onto my shoulder. His sobs became louder, he held me close as I put the gun up to my temple and a loud bang rang out in the room, as my mother screamed.
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