4 Days - 8

Day 3 - Early Morning

 

 

              In a blink of an eye, a sudden rush of a dazed sensation hit the boy as he shot up from the couch. Looking outside the window to see that the sky was dark, with a waning moon descending unto the skyline of the city. He had fallen asleep for hours, even though it only felt like a blink. The grogginess of awakening had hit the boy as he raised his hand to stroke his temple, pacing around the room to see that no one had arrived in his sleep. The boy sunk to his knees, coming to the realization that his father didn’t make it. In this situation, the boy knew that this would be where his father would go, but he hadn’t arrived. The idealistic vision of his father returning was shattered and thrown to the ground. The boy rubbed his eyelids, tired and strained. He sighed and stood back up and paced over to the window. Staring out into the black painted city, only to be accompanied by a few strained lights and silence. That silence was all that stretched across the night. It was soothing, yet unwelcome. It was a reminder that nothing was waiting for him out there. He glanced over at the radio, remembering the broadcast. He knew that there were people out there, far away from the city, but no one he knew, no family or friends he knew of to help him. He didn’t even know if he had the energy to get out, the boy felt weak, his legs wobbled under the weight of his own body. He didn’t notice it; his body was pumped with adrenaline from the past two days he didn’t notice he was struggling to keep himself together.

           

            A sudden burst of noise rang throughout the city, echoing around the buildings and against the sky. It sounded familiar to the boy; it was a howl, a canine howl. It sounded like the sister’s pet dog. The boy listened closely, wondering if another would arise. It did, a beagle’s howl resonated across the sky. The boy raised himself from the windowsill, remembering his sister’s dog wasn’t in the car as well. Although hope was lost for his father, the girl may have not returned home, she may have gone back to the park, the boy thought. He raced out of his apartment and down the stairs back to the ground floor. He barreled through the front door to the complex, the loud echoes of the canine continued. The echoes seemed to originate from the direction of the park. The boy sped up towards the howls, filled with a new vigor to find his sister. Passing by more stopped cars, with the drivers head’s reeled back into the seat, eyes wide open, and strained. The boy ignored them, stepping over a body that covered the sidewalk. He weaved through the cars, climbing on top of one to get a better view of the park. The howls continued. Nodding, the boy stepped down and tracked after the park.

            The community building was in sight as the boy raced along the familiar trail up to it. The howls had begun to quiet down. He stepped up to the entrance of the old building, and searched the premises. The howls had stopped; there was no more noise to be heard. The boy didn’t see the spry pup anywhere. There were no traces of him anywhere, no path he could’ve went, no tracks. The boy was puzzled by where the howls came from; he heard a dog making uproar from this spot. He looked around to see that the moon of the night had set to make way for the morning, the sky behind the boy slowly turned from dark blue to a shade of orange. The silence that surrounded the city once again was broken, but not by an animal, a mechanical noise rang. It was much softer noise; it felt nearby. A sudden burst of light shined through the city and a revving noise clanked out. A dark colored van pulled around the building with headlights shining brightly, stinging the boy’s eyes. The van stopped, quickly, once it faced the boy. The van stopped moving, the engine dying down. The passenger side door swung open and a boot came out. The boy stepped forward cautiously. A person wearing HAZMAT gear stepped out and gestured for the boy to step forward.

 

4 Days - 7

Day 2 - Noon

             

            The loud bang of the gun had rung throughout the house, the boys vision widened in fear as he quickly ducked into his fathers room. Another loud bang rang as a small hole burst through the door and chips and small wood dust flew through the room. The boy hid by the side of the door, trying to hold his breath in as to not make any noise. He hears the muffled voice of the stranger say, “If there’s still an individual left in here, I can’t be truly free. I won’t let you take away my freedom as a human.” He fired again, shattering a window on the other side of the father’s room. The boy remained silent, staring at the open doorway. The boy was behind the actual door, so the stranger couldn’t see him. The stranger slowly stalked into the room, both hands on the grip as he searched the room. The boy raised his foot up high and smashed it into the door, slamming the man and knocking him back, as he was dazed from the knockback, the boy threw himself, tackling the man into the corner of the room. The man gripped hard onto his firearm, refusing to let go. The boy hoped to have disarmed the man with that assault, but his panic still remained. He shot up rapidly and stomped on the man’s shins with all the force his leg could muster. The man on the floor let out a muffled screech of pain, holding his leg close to his body, pointing the gun up at the boy. The boy smiled lightly, feeling a sense of superiority over this grown man, but not forgetting how much of a threat he is, the boy swung his leg and slammed his foot into the strangers hand, knocking the gun out of his hand and across the room and over his fathers bed. The mans hand had bent back from the kick, causing him to let out another shout and curse at the boy, he shot up pouncing onto the boy and reeling his broken hand back and striking at the boy, he raised his hands in defense but the man knocked his right arm out of the way and socked him in the stomach. Feeling pain shoot up and the air being forced out of his body, the boy upturned for the stranger to grip the boys shoulders and toss him onto the floor forcefully. Holding himself and groaning, the boy attempted to wriggle away. Angrily bellowing curses at the boy, the man stamps on the boys left arm, and kneeling down on top of the boy. He placed his forearm on top of the boy’s throat, constricting his neck against the floor. The boy struggled to lift the stranger’s arm off of him as he gasped for air, and his vision blurred. The man’s arm was too heavy; it felt as if it was immovable. The man above him reeled his other arm back and bashed the boy’s face. Everything went black to him, he couldn’t see, couldn’t breath. Fear flushed through him as he struggled to move anything, anything he could do at all to get him away or to stop this violent man. The boy reached his right arm up slowly, trying to push the man’s face away, but he couldn’t gather enough strength. The boy felt his consciousness gradually begin to float away from him; he began coughing, feeling blood splatter on the inside of his mask.

           

            With a all the tension, the helplessness, the boy felt one desperate surge of energy fill him as he shoved the man’s face away, lightening the pressure constricting his throat, the boy pushes the man away with his legs and quickly pulls himself up onto his feet, feeling the air return to him. The weight in his chest remained as he used what little energy he had to swing around the bed and grab the gun off the floor. The stranger spotted that the boy was now in possession of the pistol. The stranger cautiously raises his hands into the air and announces that he will leave the boy alone, the stranger gets on his knees slowly, pleading for the boy not to shoot him. The boy furrows his brow angrily, leaps across the bed and places the barrel on the mans forehead asking why he should not shoot him. The man starts throbbed in a pant, clearly afraid of the boy now. The boy hands were shaking, he didn't have the courage to actually end this man's life, but he didn't know how else to dispose of him. His thoughts were hustled, trying to think of a solution. He reeled his right arm back and bashed the hilt of the gun against the man's face, knocking him over. The boy hoped he would've been knocked unconscious from the blow, but he still was awake, holding his eyeglass, screaming in anguish. The boy was filled with fright from his voice, this scream was different from the one other, that was just a growl of pain, this sounded deathly. The man shot up, stumbling over to the boy, swiping at him desperately, the boy ducked back, noticing that the eyeglass on the strangers gas mask was shattered and small shards had been embedded into his eyelid. The boy jumped over the bed, to have the man waver over to him, difficultly. The boy lifted up the gun and tapped the trigger frightened. Two bangs rang, as one bullet pumped into the strangers vest, pushing him back. The second flying into the nozzle of the gas mask making another loud bang noise as the man yelped with his head being flung back. He pulled himself back forward, holding his own throat, gasping for breath. The boy kept the firearm trained on the man as his shoulders began quivering and a loud guttural groan came from the fractured mask. The man's arms began twitching and spasming, his legs quivered and he fell to his knees making a thud unto the floor. The man started shaking violently as he crawled towards the boy in futility. Coughing violently, traces of blood falling from the fracture in his mask the man slowly stopped shaking and fell silent, leaving behind a low gurgle. Looking down at the man, the boy cautiously paced towards him, keeping the iron sights trained on the man. He knelt down and peeled a patch off of the back of the gas mask and slipped it off of him. The man was indeed not the boy's father, however, his face was familiar, he was a young man, possibly in his late 30's, the boy vaguely remembers seeing this man in the lobby of the apartment from time to time, but he didn't know him personally. His left eye was sunken in and strained, just like the boys were last night. A low gurgle came out of him, as his left eye twitched. The boy looked at the gun in right hand, and back to the man, he didn't know if the man was still alive, but the boy decided that it wasn't important to him anymore, and pulled the trigger, leaving a hole in the man's temple, knocking him back.

           The boy dropped the gun on the man, and slowly walked out of his father's room, exhausted from that encounter. The boy reexamined his apartment once more, hopeful that his family would be there. He sighed, knowing they weren't there, but refusing to let go of the notion that they're out there. "Maybe they're on their way here?" The boy though. The boy felt that was the most sound theory. If his sister was ever scared she would return back home, and it made sense for his father to have the same mentality as the boy. He decided that he would wait to see if his family would return home. The boy went back into his fathers room and opened a window, glancing back at the strangers corpse. He didn't want his father or sister seeing this, so the boy picked up the man's body and dragged it over to the window. A click noise came from the man's body, followed by several more clicks. The boy looked down to spot a small radio on the man's belt. It continued clicking. The boy took the radio from the stranger's belt and pushed the man out the window. The clicks fell to static as the boy walked back into the main room. Small whispers came from the radio, the boy, filled with curiosity began playing with the various knobs and antennae of the radio. Eventually a voice came in, it sounded like a newscaster's voice. It said "National warning has gone out, a viral outbreak has occurred in the Midwest U.S. This neurological virus seems to be of a mutated strain, causing seizures and eventually total brain shutdown. The fatality count is unknown as of this moment, officials have been dispatched to contain the infected area. Repeat..." The boy shut off the radio.
The boy felt safe, if he had survived the initial surge, he felt that this mysterious virus couldn't do anything else to him. The boy collapsed onto the couch in the living room, and dreamt up fancies of his family returning to him.

4 Days - 6

Day 2 - Noon

 

            As he stamped away from the wreckage, he shook his head to push it out of his mind. His ideal of his sister waiting for him was still alive. Maybe the interior of the car had protected her from the volatile air, but how she didn’t have anything like a mask to protect her perplexed him. The thought that the air may now be safe to breath crossed his mind, but he was too scared of the possibility of another seizure so the boy didn’t risk taking the mask off.  The boy and his father had lived in a large apartment building in the city, only an hour or so worth of walking from the suburban outskirts where his grandfather resided. The boy looked and could see the lights of the surrounding buildings were still on; they were the only things producing any sounds, a low hum of electricity. In a bizarre way, the boy felt comfortable with it. He had lived in this big city his whole life, always accustomed to the hustle and noise, but seeing it now in a silent, empty state left him in an unknown feeling of being surrounded by the nothing, which supported a foreign comfort. After for what felt like hours, the boy finally found himself surrounded by the tall buildings he called home. He saw in the distance, his old apartment complex, right next to the bank and other complex as always. The image of what was left of his family awaiting dashed into his head, and with that he summoned the energy to pick up speed to a slow run down the road.

           

            He trotted up the stairs to the front door cautiously. He turned to look over at a panel of buttons for ringing the doorbells of the various occupants. Looking for the number that belonged to him, he placed his thumb on the button and pressed down deliberately. The familiar buzzing drone filled his senses, the comfort and familiarity of home placed a small smile under his mask, eager to hear a response from his father he had played out in his mind, the boy waited by the panel for a response from his father. There was nothing. The smile quickly vanished as his arm slowly descended from the panel. His head sunk gently, looking down at his feet. He raised his left arm to pull the door open, looked down to remember his left arm wasn’t really there. He stared at the door for a moment, cursed at his arm and pushed it open with his left shoulder. As the door slid open, the door panel cracked, the boys attention was quickly diverted to it as a low buzz noise came back out in return. The buzz dragged out and gradually died down into stillness. His eyes widened at the promise and meaning of this, he hastily barreled through the doorway and up the stairs to his home. Racing up the flight of stairs, the boy called out, “Dad” over and over announcing his return home. At the 4^th floor, he saw many doors were left wide open, but his was only faintly ajar. He paced himself over to the door and pulled it open.

            Inside, he announced for his father once more, he was greeted with silence. The boy looked around, examining everything, he looked at the sofa, where in his thoughts would have been occupied by his father and little sister in a concerned huddle, but in reality would be occupied by nothing. No one was inside. He pushed open the door to his bedroom, it was still in the exact same condition he had left it, the sheets were still messy, and his clothes from two days prior still littered the floor. The boy opened his closet, and pulled out new clothes. He took a moment to change and exit his room. He reexamined the large room and called out for his father and sister again. He turned towards his father’s room and placed his hand on the doorknob, he heard a voice from behind him. The boy turned to find what looked like a man. He was tall, he was wearing a vest around him that was similar to ones that police S.W.A.T. units wear, and he also had a gas mask around his head. There was a silence between the two as they both had the realization that they were not the only living person left. The boy’s eyes strained to see if he could identify who was behind the eyeglass of the gas mask. He asked softly if the stranger was his father. There was only silence from the stranger as he stepped forward and took a stance giving his side to the boy. His presence made the boy wary, he had a mysterious threatening presence about him. The man returned in a muffled voice through his mask, saying that he was not the boy’s father. He returned in question as to who the boy was and what he was doing in this apartment. The boy answered with his name and that this was his home. The man nodded sluggishly, he gave back in statement that everyone outside is gone.  The boy’s eyes dropped at this statement, he raised back up and inquired to the stranger if he had seen a tall, man looking similar to the boy and if he has seen his little sister. The stranger shook his head “no” and repeated that everyone is gone.

“Everyone is gone and there is no one to hold us back.” Said the stranger through his mask. This statement made the boy shook the boy, as he grabbed the door handle in a frightened hurry. With a sudden twitch of his right arm, the man suddenly pulled out a small pistol and shot into the ceiling, repeating again, this time shouting “No one to hold us back.”

 

4 Days - 5

Day 2 - Morning

 

                               Steadying himself, he took back a hold of the wheel and pressed gently on the gas pedal. Gradually navigating around the cars and bodies that clutter the streets. Some vehicles had looked as if the driver had floored it all of a sudden and went out of control, being smashed into light posts, mailboxes, into other people’s houses. While he swerved around the confusion, he was piecing together that whatever was in the air must have done this, that a virus or something suddenly stopped so many peoples lives. “Why did I live?” He thought over to himself, did the mere act of taking the pills save him from this event? The boy was educated enough to know how a virus would work, however, the idea a virus attack on such a large, sudden scale puzzled him. The sun was now rising glacially over the landscape; it looked like it was going to be another bright, sunny day. The boy came up to a large collection of toppled, and smashed cars. He knew he wouldn’t get the van through there; he punched the wheel out of frustration, causing a loud honk. He turned the car’s ignition off, opened the car door and stumbled out.

           

            He searched the car pile in front of him, seeing if there were any openings for him to simply walk through. There didn’t appear to be any, so he shrugged it off and gripped ahold of a car and vaulted himself on top. He looked down at the road, at the end, he noticed something familiar; his stepmother’s car. The shattering of his idealistic vision that his sister was waiting for him made his thoughts leave him, he rushed down and sprinted down the street to the car as fast as he could. When he reached the car, he came back, ignoring what was at hand, scared to see what he would see. The car had the front bent over a telephone pole and the trunk blown wide open, the driver had flown through the window and into said pole. In the back of the car were various foods, refuse, and grocery bags. This confused him a little bit, it seemed as if his stepmother lived out of her car, but he knew she lived in a small apartment on the other side of town. His sister was not present anywhere in the mess, so he approached the passenger side of the car. The passenger side was empty, the crushed in hood was pushing into it, but his little sister was not present in the car at all. He searched around the area to see if she may have been ejected from the car, but there were no such signs. The boy sat down on the curb, reexamining the wreckage again.

            “If she isn’t here, then where is she?” he thought. The idea that she may still be alive crossed his mind. With that, instead of searching for a corpse, he began searching for clues; something to justify his theory, give him hope. The car passenger side door was locked. “So she wasn’t in there?” he pondered. The back doors were also locked, “Where could she have been?” he asked again. Walking back around the car, and he spotted the open trunk, and it then it struck him. If she couldn’t have been in the passenger seat, and she couldn’t have been in the back of the car. The trunk is the only thing that has been opened since the crash. In that moment, it didn’t matter that he didn’t know anything about his stepmother. Year’s worth of information flowed into him with this revelation. This is why he was kept in the dark about his stepmother, his father knew how he would react, he wouldn’t care what redeeming qualities she may have, and it wouldn’t have held back his anger. He searched the trunk and found a tire iron. He grabbed it, held it tight till his fingers hurt. The boy swung himself around the car and looked at the corpse that was once his stepmother. Trying to hold in this new found contempt, but failing he raised the iron high and fell it down upon her skull. He closed his eyes, but he heard a crunch. He continued beating, screaming profanity at her. He didn't know what sort of things she could have done to her own daughter, but all he didn't care, the mere idea that she would have treated her own daughter as luggage was enough to set his rage aflame and he was unleashing all that rage into each swing into her still corpse. He dropped the bloody iron, panting. The boy walked away, not feeling satisfied, but feeling relieved, he continued on.

4 Days - 4

Day 2 - Morning

               As the night crawled into the sky, the dark clouds rolled in and out of the sky. The sun cracked the horizon, rays raining upon the city. The boy’s eyes slowly lifted open. His mind was still clouded. He slowly raised himself up from the floor, rubbing his temple. His head was hurting from last night. He examined his surroundings to find that it wasn’t a dream; he had passed out in the bathroom after swallowing the seizure pills. The boy was worried as the sudden memories of last night rushed into his mind. The boy’s family line had always had issues with seizures and light epilepsy, however none of the one’s the boy had experienced were as painful or as bad as last night. He placed the bottle on the floor and stood up slowly, pulling himself up on the bathroom sink. He looked back at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes had looked sunken in and strained. His color had come back however. In the reflection, his left arm was limp and dangling gently. He tried to move it with the best of his ability, but it was numb and he could only move his upper arm at best. Either he broke his arm last night or his seizure somehow paralyzed the use of his left arm. When he stumbled slowly out of the bathroom, he tasted a bitter taste in his mouth and began coughing violently. He raised his arm to cover his mouth, and looked frantically around the room. He saw the window over the television set, open. A dark, pink sky painted the landscape outside. Some strange sensation in the back of the boys mind was speaking to him, some instinctual voice, forcing him to stay alive, no matter what said, “Close the window”. He didn’t understand what this strange desire to close the window meant, but he rushed over to the television set and shoved it out of the way with his right shoulder. He gripped the window frame with his right hand and forced it down. He coughed a little more, tiny traces of blood sprayed onto the window. The bitter taste had left his mouth, and he no longer felt a hitch in his throat. 

He realized at that moment that whatever happened to him last night must have been something in the air. He didn’t know what it was, or why it would’ve done this to him, but he just knew that he should stay away from it. He lowered his hand from his mouth, to realize his left arm was never raised, but it felt as if it really was covering his mouth. The strain of these events had tired him, but he was afraid to lie down or to rest, he was afraid that if he closed his eyes, that they’d never open again. The fear kept him completely still for several minutes, when he finally forced his legs to move over to the phone on the table which still read “NO SERVICE”. He sighed, and paced in circles around the room nervously, repeating to himself that he will be alright, he will be alright, he will be alright, over and over again, rubbing his face with his hands, even though he knew his left hand wasn’t really there, he shoved the thought out of his mind and had the sensation of his left and right hands on his face try to calm him down. The boy took a deep breath, and slowly removed his hands from his face. His mind raced, trying to grasp what had happened. He was all alone, scared and crippled. He felt that if he somehow got home he would be fine, the scenario played in his head that if he got home, his father and sister would be there waiting, and they would be concerned, he would go to the hospital and fix his arm. 

He played this scenario over and over, as he descended into the basement. He glanced over at the corpse, now grey, and sullen-looking. The crashing realization that none of this is a dream, all of it is real, hit the boy like a runaway train. He stared at the corpse from the stairwell, breathing heavily as to keep his already damaged psyche in order. He turned his eyes away and mumbled to himself not to look at it repeatedly. Resolvedly refusing to look at the body that was once his grandfather, the boy searched around the room, checking boxes and packages across the room. When he stumbled on a small plastic container labeled, “medicine” he opened the lid off the container and rustled the various pills and serums around. Eventually he found a package of foldable surgical masks. He removed the package from the container and bit it with his teeth to open it. It tore open to have masks spill over on the floor around him. With a sigh, he kneeled down and picked up a small mask and held it to his face to see if it fit. It matched his facial figure well enough. He held it to his face as he grabbed the string with his left hand and attempted to wrap it around his head, when he found his left hand wasn’t actually holding the string, he gave out a dry laugh, cursing at his dead arm. He then attempted to hold his breath to keep the mask on his face, while tying the string around his head with his right hand.  After finally getting the mask on his face, he stood up, took a deep breath and strolled back upstairs; he then turned and looked at the front door.

Slowly, he walked over to the door, saying out loud, “You can do this” to ready himself for the outside, whatever may wait for him. He inhaled slowly, held his breath deep in his chest and placed his good arm on the door handle and turned precariously. He pushed the door open and let it just drift the rest of the way, cautiously stepping out of the house. The air didn’t taste bitter; he felt in control of his body, he didn’t feel a hitch in the back of his throat. The mask seemed to be working for the most part. The boy noticed that the outside world was dead silent, there were no birds chirping, there was no swoosh of the wind, no honking or music or anything coming from the urban area, nothing. He walked over to his grandfather’s car; it was a large, dark blue van. The boy did know how to drive, but he didn’t have a license, he also didn’t want to risk driving with a bum arm, but he wanted to get back to his home as soon as possible, so he was willing to take the risk. He opened up the driver side door; he pulled himself into the seat. He reached around the back of the seat and pulled a spare key his grandfather left under the seat. The key was freezing to the touch, but the boy didn’t mind it, he put it in the ignition and turned. The car revved up to life, the lights lit up, the radio turned on to the sound of static. The boy turned off the radio and put his one hand on the wheel, he switched the gear into drive and slid out of the driveway.

His foot pressed down gently on the gas pedal, the car began cruising gently down the road. Aside from the noise of the car itself, the world around him remained silent still. No houses had any noises of any sort. Along the sidewalk the boy spotted a woman, lying motionless on the ground, her eyes were wide and her limbs were bent in bizarre angles. Her skin was the similar shade of grey; she was dead. The boy tried to ignore it, but as he pulled around a corner, he stopped, letting the car drift gently. He was shocked by the sight he saw, a wreckage of cars with more grey corpses littered about the road. All frozen stiff in more strange contortions.

4 Days - 3

Day 1 - Evening

 

              The three had to cover a lot of distance to return back to the grandfathers home. The sun had sailed across the sky and it was now beginning to descend back into the horizon, however the dark clouds were now hanging overhead on the east side of the city. The radio's had still all been rendered silent. The beagle still remained on edge, as if it is readying itself for a fight. This confirmed, in the boys mind, that a possibly disastrous tornado was on the way. The three had returned to the grandfather's small house on the outer suburbs. It was a small, one-story with a bright red door that had been worn down from the years of use. The girl quickly walked up to the door and opened it for the other two. When they enter the house, the grandfather thanks his grandchildren for spending the day with them. The two reply in unison "you're welcome" in a dull tone that they had been trained for years by their parents to say. The grandfather slowly reclines back into his sofa, and turns on the television, but just as the one before, they were only welcomed with a shrill static hum. The man sighed, and turned the television back off. The three sat together and discussed for a short time about the various events about the day. The grandfather decided to put a movie in, but they had to search through for one that the little girl could enjoy. 

After a short while, a knock on the door was heard. The boy answered it to find that his stepmother was at the door. She answered that she got off work and she came to take her daughter back home. The boy stepped aside and looked at his little sister, who protested that she wanted to stay with her grandfather. Her grandfather had reassured her that he would be all right as her older brother will stay with him. The girl reluctantly accepted and took her mother's hand and left. The brother was left by his father to spend the weekend with his grandfather, so he would be staying the night with him. After, the stepmother had left, the grandfather quietly made a vulgar comment about the woman, which made boy grin and snicker loudly. The grandfather commented that now the girl was gone, they could put in a movie that the two of them would actually enjoy. The boy put in a DVD for an action movie from a few years ago. The boy and his grandfather spent the next few hours commentating over the events in the film, that they barely even noticed what was actually happening. In the midst of the movie, the grandfather looked outside to notice that the sky had become a dull grey, even though the sun was still setting. Remarking on the storm that has come, the grandfather recommends the two sleeps in the basement in case of a tornado. The boy nods and says that he will go to bed later, unless the tornado is actually coming. With that the grandfather bids goodnight and departs down the stairs. 

The boy sat alone in the living room, watching the climax of the movie. He watched the screen with a dull look in his eyes, his head bobbing slowly. Suddenly, he remembered earlier at the restaurant how fixated all the customers were with the television until it was shut off. Feeling a mild sense of guilt in the activity he's doing, he grabs the remote and shuts off the television. Now left in a quiet room, with only his thoughts to occupy his mind. He reflects upon the day, the moments where he was afraid for his grandfather, the moment in the restaurant, the "what if's" of the day. When he catches up to now, he thinks for a moment about his stepmother. It occurred to the boy that he knows very little about his step-mother, she never visits, unless to pick up his sister, and she never stays long, his father never told him anything about her, and he never really was curious about her. She was always a stranger to him, just some woman who would go and take his sister from him. It was just one of those things about the world that he couldn't control, no matter how much he disliked it. He wondered what it was like for his sister to stay with her every other week, was she nice? Did she care for her at all? He shrugged it off and stood up, she always came back the same bright, bubbly girl she was so she couldn't have been too bad at her mother's house. He checked the window; there were no winds, no rain, just a dark sky. It appeared that there were no tornado threat, but a storm is still likely. The boy paced around the house, not entirely sure what to do with himself. 

The houses silence was swiftly broken with a crashing sound, from deep within the basement, the boy could hear his grandfather shouting his name. Without a second thought, the boy raced down the stairs, his feet slamming quickly down the steps, he scanned the room to find his grandfather on the floor, twitching, desperately raising his hand to point to the medicine on the shelf. The boy did not wait for his grandfather to deliver the gesture, the boy knew what was wrong and what to do. He rushed over and picked up the bottle, and dropped two pills into his hand. He kneeled down and helped the pills into his grandfather’s mouth. The spasming slowed down, but he was still breathing heavily. He held tight to his grandson's shirt, trying to regain his composure. He softly whispered his grandson's name, coughing wildly. The boy inquired if it was water he needed, quickly getting up from the floor and dashing upstairs to get a bottle of water from the kitchen and running back down. When he raced back to his grandfather's side, he was coughing harder; small traces of blood could be seen from his breath. His grandson gave him the water bottle, but he struggled to lift the bottle up, still trying to catch his breathe. The boy helped him bring the water, slowly flowing into his mouth. The elderly man gasped, and coughed again. He turned to his grandson, eyes closed. He softly said his name. He wheezed out slowly "Tell... your sister... I'm sorry..." And panted slowly, coughed again. He slowly grew quiet, his head tilting down and slumped over. The boy picked up his head gently and said the word "grandpa" He said it over and over again. His face felt cold. The boy stared at his face, the color of his skin faded. He let go of his grandfather's head. It slumped back over. The boy slowly stood back up, looking down at his grandfather. He inhaled deeply, and exhaled, his breathe quivering. He gradually built up the energy to move his feet and leave the basement. Trying to keep his composure, he picked up the cell phone he left on the table in the kitchen. When he turned on the light, there was a "NO SERVICE" text scrawled across the wallpaper. The boy gently put the phone back down, and walked into the living room and sat back on the couch. Right where he was, laughing with his grandfather not two hours ago. He stared into the dark black screen of the television.  There was a twitch in his face, under his eye. Tears started flowing from his eyes, as he put his face into his hands. Breathing difficult, and whimpering loudly. After a few moments, he wiped his face with his shirtsleeve, and took a deep breath. 

He felt another twitch under his eye, and he readied another sob attack. However, he quickly felt a needle like pain stretch through his arms and legs. The confusion caused him to go into a panic; he quickly stood up and ran to the kitchen. On his way, he felt a crippling pain in his knees and he fell to the floor. Frantically, he crawled over into the bathroom. The pain spread up into his torso, he grabbed the rim of the sink, forcing himself up. When he saw himself in the mirror, the color of his flesh had dulled; his eyes looked glazed, and were twitching. As the pain rose into his throat, he felt difficult to breathe. Pushing his arm to move despite the pain. He opened up the medicine cabinet, his arm convulsing and spasming. He grabbed his grandfather's seizure medicine and desperately downed three pills. His whole body felt numb. His reflection in the mirror started to double, as his vision was failing. He fell to the floor loudly, crashing unto the clean tile floor. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but he couldn't and he lost consciousness

.

4 Days - 2

Day 1 - Noon


           The two siblings, now walking down the street, accompanied by the long stretch of cars going up and down the street at a very slow pace. The girl looks up to her brother and asks if their grandfather is feeling better. The boy is silent for a moment before replying that he does not know. She begins listing off foods that she wants from the fast food place that the brother is ignoring, knowing he doesn't have the money to afford everything she wants. The two of them reach the restaurant at the end of the street and enter it quickly to escape the noise of outside. 
                     The boy tells his sister to sit on the chair and wait for him to get their food. As they wait the television hanging, idly from the corner of the room suddenly bursts into a screeching static from the local sports station. An employee curses at the television under her breathe and simply turns it off with the remote, the shrill noise of the static lingering shortly after. Everyone in the restaurant take a slow realization that the television was no longer on and returned their primary attention to their various friends or family they are dining with. After ordering the food to go for him, and his family, the boy sits down with his sister. She asks if she will be getting a toy this time, the boy explains to her that this specific food chain does not give complimentary toys with their food. She pouts for a few minutes, with her brother laughing at her childish complaints. When their food arrives, the boy gives the cashier money, thanks her and takes the food and his sister’s hand and leaves. 
                      As they walk back the way they came, the boy takes note that cars are a lot quieter as no one has their radios or music players blaring out the window. On the way, he says various people shifting through their radio stations, only static coming out of the cars. Some drivers had put in a CD and there were music coming from those cars, but for some reason all cars dependent on radio went silent or to static. This made the boy more concerned for the storm that the beagle had seen earlier, as the conclusion he came to be that there was a tornado that knocked out a broadcast tower and is now coming for them. In a worry, the boy hurried his sister along back to the park. When they returned to the park, the sister called out the name of their dog, to the boy’s surprise, the dog was running up to them, without their grandfather present. The boy now distressed over what this might imply, "Has something happened to Grandpa?" The thought raced through his mind. He gave the food to his sister and quickly ran back to the community site. 
                    He shoved the doors open hastily, spooking the volunteer worker there. The chair to the side of the room did not have his grandfather present. The boy inquired to the worker where his grandfather went. The worker replied that an elderly man had requested to rest in a back room. The boy, now relieved, asked calmly where the back room is. After the volunteer pointed out the hall to go, the boy paced over. In the hall, the boy inspected an open door to see an empty large room, most likely reserved for dance or martial art classes or the like. He spotted his grandfather sitting in a chair, asleep. The boy took a brief moment to confirm that his grandfather was only asleep. He shook the sleeping man's shoulder lightly to wake him up. The grandfather opens his eyes, drowsily; smiles at his grandson, welcoming him back, giving a light joke that he might have forgot about him. His grandson, smiled back, knowing that his fear was misplaced. He tells his grandfather about the upcoming storm and the radios and television set shutting off and that they should probably make their way home. The grandfather nods and slowly gets up from his seat. The two of them leave the municipal building to find the little girl sitting on the ground, eating a sandwich and pushing the hungry pervasive dog away. The grandfather grabs the leash on the dog’s neck and calls his granddaughter to come along and all three left back into the city.