Day OneMature

One day, it starts raining. Then, the people turn. This is how you survive.

When it starts to rain, you're sick. Your mom is shaking you awake, holding a warm bowl of soup in one hand. "Honey," She speaks. "It's time to wake up. I brought you some soup." You groan and peel your eyes open, smiling weakly when you see her. You start to sit up. "You didn't need to do that, mom," Your gravely voice is just loud enough to be heard, and you cough a few times before taking the warm soup from her. She smiles, a little bit of pain in her eyes. Something is wrong. You are about to voice this when thunder rolls loudly in the distance, and the two of you move to look out the window. Moments before it had been bright and sunny, but now it was dark, and rain pounded against the window hard enough you're almost afraid the glass will break. Your mom is the first to turn away, facing you and placing one hand on your shoulder. You turn, your chest rattling with another cough. She has that look on her face again, as if she was hurting but didn't want you to know. You lick your dry lips before asking, "What's wrong?" Her fake smile droops slightly, and she sighs. "I'm sorry, honey. I should have told you earlier; your father and I are going on a business trip. You'll have to be alone for a few days." You almost drop the bowl in your hands in shock. While you are sixteen years old, your parents have never been on trips at the same time. You have always had at least one at home with you, and even if you knew this would happen sometime, you hadn't expected to be sick when the time rolled around.

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