All I Ever Wanted

The house was in ruins; broken furniture strewn across the livingroom, dirt and blood covered the floors, torn drapes threw odd shards of light through the room from the rays of the setting sun. Screams and cries echoed through the house by the river.

"Mommy! Help me!" A small boy, pale and bleeding, reached out for his mother.

His leg was broken, as well as a couple ribs, but he dragged his broken body after his family as they ran.

"Mommy! Don't leave me!" the boy cried, reaching once again for his mother's hand.

This time is was smacked away by the butt of a shotgun.

"John! Please don't hurt him!" The boy's mother cried, reaching for her hurting son.

"Back, monster! Don't touch her!" The boy's father warned.

"John! He's not a monster!" The woman yelled, fighting her husband's strong arm holding her back, keeping her from her injured boy, protecting her from what he was about to become.

"Daddy, please!" the boy persisted, continuing to pull his useless body towards them.

"You are not my son! You are a monster!" the father spat in disgust.

"My baby! John! We can't leave him!" The small boy's mother cried, her tears smearing the dirt and blood on her cheeks.

The boy turned to an older boy, looking into his bright blue eyes. His brother, his best friend, hoping he'd protect him. Surely he would.

"Tyson! Please help me!" The boy whimpered, blood pouring from the corners for his mouth as he spoke.

The older boy just shook his head, pulling his screaming mother away from his baby brother, fighting back tears. The boy watched their retreating forms, crying out to them, only receiving an answer from his mother. He watched them drive away, leaving the 15 year old boy alone, injured, and afraid. He curled in a ball, crying himself to sleep.

As the family drove away, the mother desperately looked behind them, trying to convince her husband to go back and get her sick baby.

"John, he's just sick! He didn't get bitten!" She cried.

"Naomi-" the man started.

"Please John! we could bring him to the care center!" she tried.

"Naomi-" the man said again.

"He only had a broken leg-"

"NAOMI!"

The man's outburst startled the woman, quieting her.

"He was bitten." the man said finally.

"He- what? No! No he wasn't!" she retorted.

"Yes, he was, Naomi." the man replied. "On his chest. I saw it."

The woman was quiet for a moment. She turned to the backseat, looking into her other son's watery eyes.

"It can't be true." She pleaded, searching for the answer she wanted in the boy's eyes but didn't find it.

"W-well, we could still bring him. They can heal him. Surely they've made a cure-" She said, despirate.

The man shook his head.

"It's spreading too quickly. They won't make one in time." He said tiredly, keeping his eyes on the road.

The woman cried, knowing that she should've stayed and helped her son in anyway.

Even if it meant dying too.

-meanwhile-

The small boy cried out in pain, shaking from the cold, from the bloodloss, from fear. Clutching his chest, his ribs, he tried to keep his breathing even. His heartrate slowed, he began to feel cold. He shakily reached for a blanket, wrapping himself in it. He dragged himself over to the torn couch.

"This seems like a good place to die..." he thought faintly, laying down on the white and bloodstained cushions, closing his eyes.

He said good bye to his family, his friends, wishing them luck in this dying world.

The next morning he felt the sun in his eyes and groaned. Any minute now his mom would be yelling up to him, telling him it was time to wake up. He turned over on his bed. Wait. This wasn't his bed. Had he fallen asleep on the couch? That'd odd. Even if he had, his brother or dad would've carried him up to his bed. Confused, he sat up and opened his eyes.
Then wished he hadn't.

The livingroom was dim, dirty and in chaos. The sun came through the shattered window and ripped curtains in odd shapes.

Yesturday came back to him all at once. He looked over his body and noticed he had no injuries but also noticed he wasn't human anymore. His skin was a dull blue and had small bumps all over his body, his fingers had long talons at the end and his teeth were sharp and pointy. He looked out the window but couldnt see anything. The sun was far too bright. He shivered and decided to go change. He needed a shower anyway.

He walked upstairs and started the shower, peeling off his bloody t shirt and pj pants. He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were sunken and black with the pupil a bright red. He looked over his injuries and found they were healed. He shivered again and hopped in the warm shower. After he was clean he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out to his bedroom.

The more he moved, the more he found it uncomfortable to walk normal. He shrugged it off and opened his closet. He grabbed a sweatshirt and some cargo pants, hoping that he'd warm up since he was still so cold. He pulled on some boxers, then the pants. He went to put on his sweatshirt but fumbled and dropped it. As he crouched to pick it up, he noticed that it was a much more comfortable stance. He tried walking crouched and found it relaxing on his muscles.

He crawled downstairs and grabbed something to eat. As he sat on the couch he thought to himself.

"I can still eat human food....and i don't crave flesh.... okay... maybe a little.... but that I can overcome that." he told himself as he chewed.

"I wish mom were here.... She was the only one who still cared about me..." he sighed.

"I'll be okay though."

END