they're here.

so we sat there, and waited. waited like we've been waiting for the past few days. i would hold her so tight it was probably uncomfortable for her. tell her that it would be ok. tell her that we would figure a way out. tell her, convince her, that they were ok. that whatever was happening to them was just temporary. that we could fix it. but i was really just trying to convince myself these were true.

every now and then you could hear one of them stumble through the kitchen, maybe knocking something over and startling us awake. id have to stifle elizabeth so they wouldnt find us. it was a really good thing that we locked ourselves in the kitchen pantry. a small dark space where we could go unnoticed by the occasional shambling by of mom. or dad just standing motionless staring out the window, then bumping back into some unseen room of our house. and it was even better that our little hiding space provided us with the opportunity to feed ourselves. of course, we had to be discreet and make sure no dragging feet were heard before slowly, carefully opening a pack of fruit snacks and sharing them between us.

between us. me and her. her and i. my little sister. elizabeth. well, one of my little sisters.... our first night in the pantry was the hardest. it was the night it all happened. we sat in the dark, holding each other. forcing each other to remain silent. at first we could hear hannah's screams. the confused screams from a little girl trying to make sense of why mommy and daddy were so hell bent on eating her. blood curdling, nightmarish screams. i was relieved at first when hannah's screams turned to whimpers, then eventually silence. at least it was over for her, and us. at least that part was over for us. i took my hands away from elizabeth's ears and relieved some of the pressure from her head to my chest. we looked at each other briefly until we heard the other sound. low and distant at first, but growing in intensity with every seeming pulse that we could hear. i didnt know what it was at first. it was almost as if i could hear someone breaking into a watermelon. scooping the pulp out with tips of their fingers, and bringing the now unrecognizable mass to their lips to eat. then the next sound. a tearing, pulling of a thick, rubbery fabric. not fabric. it sounded like an animal's hide being pulled from its meat. then a cracking sound. then a gnashing sound. then everything blended together into a soundscape capable of painting the vivid image in my head of my mother and father crouched over my kid sister's corpse, like dogs, feasting on the stain that resided in the place on her bedroom floor that she fell. i looked into elizabeth's eyes with uncensored fear and she returned the favor. we didnt sleep that night. ive lost count of the days.

by now elizabeth and i would doze off and gain a few precious hours of sleep here and there. occasionally id be awoken by the sounds of gunshots, a car crash, and even once an explosion. but most of the time it was my parents waking us up. somehow one day i might see the irony in this.

we were never at the slightest of ease because it would seem dad hardly left the kitchen. at most, he would trot out of sight, i would hear a few frustrated grunts and moans, then see him return from the corners of the slatted pantry door. we had to do something. we had to get out of here. was this happening to other places? were other people acting like this? after what happened to hannah, nothing was the same. i had to get elizabeth out of here. i knew that. no brainer. how was the million dollar question. how was i going to slip out of the pantry, elude dad in the kitchen and make a bee line around through the hallway and out the front door, and possibly dodging mom in the process because hell knows where she was in the house. and hell knows what happened to what they left of hannah. if they left anything at all. i had to do all this, and do this with elizabeth on my shoulder, back, something to move her quick. get her far away from this house. try to figure out what was going on. surely this wasnt happening everywhere. surely we could find people to help. i knew from what i could hear outside it wasnt good. but surely!

so i had a plan. if you could even call it a plan. pretty simple. when dad took one of his trips out of my sight, i would grab elizabeth, leave the pantry, dash left around the corner, out of the kitchen and straight through the hallway all the way to the front door. simple. whatever had happened to mom and dad left them somewhat lacking when it came to reaction time and speed. whenever a car would race down our street, and its lights would hit the window, it was pathetic seeing the two of them practically fall over themselves trying to walk over to investigate. i looked down into elizabeth's eyes and softly explained to her what we were going to do. she didnt say anything in return. she just stared back up at me, glazed over and complacent. she understood.

it was in the middle of the day. i could tell because of the window with light pouring through directly across from the slatted pantry door. dad, his usual spot. mom, i thought i could hear her somewhere down the hall earlier, but no sound now. anytime now. if not now then never. we cant sit in the pantry forever. im sweaty and nervous. elizabeth sits and stares at me still. something grabs dads attention in the other room. his head turns and his body follows. his slow, awkward procession begins to somewhere out of my view. i dont see him now but i hear him still. still shambling. i look down and tell her, we are going to run now. i grab her by the hand and tell her im not going to let go. i look down at her and tell her i love her. i tell her that we are going to be safe soon. i tell myself that we are going to be safe soon. i take in air. i let it out. i take it in again...


..then i open the door. nothing in front of me, but my peripheral. movement in my peripheral. by the time i can turn my head to see what i already know is there, i see dad. he sees me before i see him, his eyes on fire and his mouth open. arms outstretched, festering neck wound, approaching me faster than i had anticipated. by the time my left arm could push elizabeth behind me and my right arm could grab for the wooden cutting board sitting on the kitchen island, dad was within an arm's reach. gnashing blood stained teeth. particles of flesh stuck underneath fingernails. i didnt have to think twice when i came across dad's face with the cutting board. his skin split and began to bleed. thick black blood. he stumbled back then fell. i could see now how different his skin looked while he was trying to stand back up. pale, sickly, dead. before dad had the chance to get back on his feet i was on top of him. blow after blow with the cutting board. covered in his oily thick blood. pause for a second. where is elizabeth? not in the kitchen.

i run into the dining room to find her hiding under the table. amidst the terror of watching her brother pummel her father's face, she hid. this was the first time since that first night in the pantry that she showed emotion. that same wounded, scared look penetrated me. she wasnt scared with me this time. she was scared of me. i guess the fact that i was hardly recognizable due to the blood had something to do with it. no time for this. i can already hear dad getting up. i can hear something else too. something upstairs. mom maybe? surely the commotion down here has grabbed her attention. grab elizabeth, run through the kitchen, through the hall, out the door.

and there he was again. up, oozing blood, and walking towards us. same outstretched arms and hungry eyes. this time only a little bit slower. i scan around quickly and dont see the cutting board, or anything really. panic. again, i push elizabeth behind, but this time keep her arm in my hand. dad is getting closer and im frozen. slip, fall, crash. dad would be laying on the floor motionless if it wasnt for that slight twitch in his left leg. i get closer and see a gaping hole in the side of his head. slipped on the floor and hit the counter. cover elizabeth's eyes, like it really matters at this point, and head for the hallway.

we arent running because i can still hear mom upstairs. towing elizabeth behind with her hand in mine, the door is so close. open the door and walk out of here. get help. move on. relieved. i guess something snapped in her head, because when she realized the front door was so close, elizabeth darted for it. i didnt stop her. why would i when mom was upstairs? the instant that i let her go i could see a small groping arm from the darkness of a room leading off from the hallway. it caught elizabeth's leg and tripped her. damn. when i got to her i could see two little arms now with a firm grip on elizabeth's legs. i pulled her away from the dark room and the arms came with her. but they werent just arms, they were hannah's arms, with what was left of hannah attached to them. hannah's upper torso was left mostly intact. skin missing in patches. scraps of her clothes stuck to her bruised dead skin by dried blood. most of the skin and muscle from her face had been eaten off. hannah had the same look dad did. fiery eyes and a gaping, hungry mouth. elizabeth kicked and i struggled to release hannah's grip. her mouth closer and closer to her legs. finally i stood up and gave one good kick to the forehead of my sister. the dead one. she fell limp and i slung elizabeth on my shoulder.

i opened the front door and stepped outside. blinded at first by the sun. my eyes adjusted and i could see what i had been hearing for those past few days. cars turned over, flaming. houses with windows broken. smatterings of blood on everything. lifeless lumps dotted neighbor's yards. sirens in the distance and plumes of smoke on the horizon. it looked like what happened in our house happened in everyone's house. i put elizabeth down and looked her over. she was fine. only a small bite on her ankle from hannah. she'll live. her wounded and frightened eyes were gone now and that familiar glazed look returned.

without a clue of what to do next, we just started to walk.