Lost Youth

This story was another submission to The Egg that was printed by Robert Morris University. It is a very early entry back into writing and something that I was thinking of expanding on at one time. This was a time before I realized how gritty I could be, but this story had somewhat turned that around. Hope you enjoy.

-Vincent


My life ended and began in one day.

        “Wake up, we have to go.”

        I was being shaken by my father, who was frantic. Through my blurred vision, the light was barely coming in through the window. Colors and shapes began to break away from one another and I saw my father’s arms and shirt were covered in blood.

        “Please wake up, it isn’t safe anymore.” Tears poured from his eyes as he moved away from me and looked into the doorway. My brother was getting dressed quickly and I started to follow suit.

        “Where’s mom?” My older brother just finished dressing as he asked. He moved towards dad waiting on an answer or further instructions.

“They got her already; we have to go somewhere safe.”

        “What happened to her?”

        “I’ll tell you when we’re at safety, right now we have to move fast. Get dressed and grab something to defend yourself with.” My brother frantically looked around the room as I finished dressing. He grabbed a hockey stick from the closet and threw me a baseball bat. I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, so I was hesitant hanging on to it.

        “Follow me. And when you see your mom, don’t stop. She isn’t your mom anymore.”

        We started walking down the hall in a hurried fashion. We could now hear screams and cries from outside penetrating the walls. My eyes shot from one doorway to another as we passed them trying to peek at what was making the noises. My dad turned the corner going towards the garage at a faster pace then we could keep. He was out of sight and seemed so far away.  As my brother passed the last doorway in the hall, my mother threw herself onto my brother and started biting. Her teeth made contact with his neck and he screamed out in pain. I fell backward at the sight and dropped my bat. Instinctively, my hands covered my eyes, but couldn’t stop the cry from coming through.

        I still saw my mother’s features even with my eyes closed. Her face was streaked with fresh blood. She expressed no emotion in a way that scared me the most. Her features normally showed a smile that radiated the whole room. She looked as if the light inside her had been taken away. Her clothes were as tattered as my father’s, but a piece of shirt was missing from her in the stomach area, revealing muscle as if her skin had been torn off. It was clear she was dead, but alive at the same time. She wasn’t my mother anymore.

My father, hearing this, shot back into the hall and leaped over the two bodies on the ground. He picked me up and jumped over them again without looking back at what just happened. We made it to the garage safely and he sat me down on the ground. I stayed there with my hands covering my eyes, tears pouring from my fingers now.

        “Be strong, we have to leave now. Please.”

        I used my father’s pleas to get myself off the ground. I just wanted to sit and cry, hoping it would all go away. The image of my mother biting into my older brother was burned into my vision. It hurt like nothing I had ever felt before, but I had to get up. My dad was now all that was left.