Dead Girl Running

I walk through the beige hall, my feet gliding across the wood floor as I enter my mom's room.  She's a sickly pale color and sweat spreads down her face. I walk up to her and sit next to her big king sized bed. Feeling her forehead, it burns to the touch, just like it did at the beginning of the week. I dab a cold sponge on her face gently and she looks at me with her dark blue eyes. They're the eys of a person who's sad and beaten.

It doesn't remind me of my mother. My mom was always full of life and passion. She was courageous and strong, not this broken person in front of me.

I sit still, listening to her ragged, shallow breathing consume the air around me. It's a painful, yet calm atmosphere. Her mouth parts slightly with each labored breath and I clench my eyes shut, knowing that her time is running out. She hasn't gotten better and no doctor has been able to tell us what's wrong.

I focus on the gasps of air, wishing that they'd come stronger, until all noise stops. The utter silence of the room crowds the area and panic suddenly settles in my gut. I feel my mouth drop and freeze for only a second, before reacting to the eery calmness.

I put my index and middle finger on her wrist to check her pulse. Nothing. I check her neck in the same manner and look for any slight rise of her chest. Nothing.

I sprint down the hallway yelling for my father.

The words are nearly inaudible, but I manage to choke through them, "I-Mom-her- breathing stopped!"

We knew there wasn't much time left, but nothing could prepare us for her actually being gone. He tries to stay calm, but his voice sounds weak as he mumbles, "Go get your brother."

I quickly walk to the stairs, making my way to the bedroom, but a low growling makes me look back. A silhouette stands in the arc of the hallway, and I instantly recognize my mother's face. I step down a stair, overfilled with joy, but my dad's hand stops me.

"Carol, are you alr--" he's cut off when my mother lunges at him, teeth barred.

His screams of agony echo off the walls and he manages one word before the tearing of flesh drowns him out, "Run!"

I bolt upstairs, into Benny's room, slam the door shut, and lock it, with shaking hands. I rack my mind for a way to get out of the house, glancing around the room for an exit. I figure the best way to get Benny and I out of here is through the window. There's no way we'd make it downstairs.

Benny sits on the floor, eyes wide, staring at me curiously. Scratching just outside the room, makes us both snap our heads in the direction of the door and I rush over to Benny.

"Benny, you're going to have to get on my back and hang on really tight, like I'm giving you a piggy-back ride," I whisper, knowing if I tried to talk louder, my voice would crack.

I can see the fear evident in his eyes, but he nods and climbs on, his small arms snaking around my neck.

I can feel his trembles through my spine as he asks, "What are we doing Jessi?"

Focusing on my plan to get him out of the house safely, I pretend that I didn't hear him and open the window. I crawl out onto the roof and shut the sill. My parents break into the room and I take in their appearances for the first time.

There's blood dripping from the corners of my mother's mouth. They're skin is a deadly white color, and their eyes are tinted with yellow. Benny's shreiks pierce my ears as he notices dad's forearm oozing with blood. I put my finger up to my lips, telling him to shush.

The tears well in my eyes, but I manage to walk down to the edge of the roof, putting my hands on the rain gutter. I can hear the splintering of glass under the fists of my parents.