AM13 Outbreak Shorts

Outbreak - Ten

I feel utterly frozen to the spot while I look over Mom's shoulder at the man who I know so well, but who's also just become a stranger to me. I can't explain it, maybe it's the shock from what I've seen today, but he just looks...wrong. The man who raised me, who I adored my whole life until he dragged me away from home very recently, the man who I always assumed would just be there, in the background of my life, now looks like a completely different person.

He's sickly, pale, almost green, and his face is covered in a thick sheen of sweat. I want to reach out and touch him, just to see how gross it feels, but I'm too disgusted to actually act upon that urge.

"Dad?" I ask cautiously, slowly sliding my arms back down to my side. "What's going on? You look...ill."

I glance towards Mom who instantly averts her eyes away from me, which only freaks me out even more. She's been so anal when it comes to everything sickness-related recently, what with all that talk on the news, but now she's looking as innocent as she can manage, as if she knows nothing about it. Now that something could potentially be happening under her own roof, she's turning a blind eye!

"It's nothing, sweetie," Dad does his best to reassure me, in among his coughing fit. "There's a bug going around at work, everyone's had it. It's one of those twenty-four hour things, so it'll be gone soon enough."

"Right," I drawl, wondering whether or not I should call him out on this lie. But what if I yelled, and it turned out he was telling the truth? The last thing I need to do right now is cause an argument at home. "Okay, well I'm off to bed." I point my thumb towards the stairs, making the adult decision to give him some time to prove himself honest. "I'll see you guys in the morning."

With a chorus of 'goodnights' ringing out behind me, I thunder up the stairs, shaking my head to myself. I've always mocked Mom for her tendency to jump to the worst conclusion without any solid evidence, but it appears that the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree after all. Right now, I'm doing exactly the same.

I slam my bedroom door shut behind me, and press my weary body up against it for a moment, allowing my eyes to slide shut just long enough to block the outside world out. I feel like I need a reset button, that I want a second chance to start again, but of course that isn't possible. This might all be really confusing, I might feel like I've been plonked right in the middle of the ocean without any aides to help me swim, and that the water's filling up my lungs faster than I can kick my legs...but I'm strong, right? I'll be able to find a way out of this?

As I collapse onto the bed, without even bothering to change my clothes, I'm not so sure...

***

I'm pleased to see Dad looking much better as I join him at the breakfast table the following morning. He even manages to smile brightly at me, which has to be the first genuine one I've had off of him for ages. This fills me with a warmth, an intense happiness, the sense that maybe impending doom isn't creeping over my shoulders after all.

"You look better already, Dad." I smirk, patting his arm. "You'll be back to your usual self in no time."

But he doesn't answer me, he simply gives me a weird look instead, one that I can't quite interpret. I cock my head to one side and eye him curiously, but I get nothing back.

Well, until he lifts up his arm, as if it's an action just for me. I glance downwards, my heart racing frantically in my chest, my brain freaking right out, and that's when I see it, sitting on his hip.

A black, pussing bite wound.

"What the...?" I gasp, scraping my chair back noisily, but Dad presses his finger up to his lip to silence me. He doesn't want Mom to know, and to be honest while I'm processing all of this I don't either. It might be mental, knowing what's going on in my own home and keeping it to myself, but it's also really hard to accept that my dad is...is...

Well, I can't even think it, never mind say it aloud, so instead I spin on my heels and I race to my room, with one fat tear splashing down my cheek.