Apocalyptic Romance

Chapter 2: Explaining To Dad

As we got back into the house, Dad was frantically looking for us upstairs. We heard him running through the ceiling (which is the floor for him.) "Eliza? Jack?" He said our names each time he entered a different room. We heard him cuss to himself as he ran downstairs. Jack still had me propped up on his shoulder as we stood in the doorway. "Jack? Eliza? Where are you?" Dad stopped at the other end of the hallway connected to the front door. He was relieved because we were fine; but then he saw my bleeding leg.

"What the hell happened to your leg, Eliza?!"

"Oh. Nothin' but a couple bumps and bruises." I laughed weakly at my own joke, but then stopped because Dad wasn't laughing along. Neither was Jack. "Eliza." Dad started. "I'm not kidding. Now I want a straight answer from you young lady. What happened to your leg?" He was calmer when he asked me this time. He must have seen my slightly scared reaction when he asked the first time. "Ok, Dad. Sit down and I'll tell you. Jack, help me over to the couch."

"No, Eliza. We need to get your leg to stop bleeding. You look pale. Your skin tone is WAY off." Jack stared at me intensely but with a hint of worry with those blue eyes of his again; meaning that he was serious. I hardly ever saw that look. "Ok I'll go and fix up this wreck." I weakly laughed at my own joke. I lifted my leg up a bit while crying in pain at the same time."I'll just need a little help getting up the stairs, getting to the bathroom reaching the first aid kit, and cleaning AND stitching this bad boy up!" We all laughed and then it got quiet for a few seconds. "Jack can you help me upstairs?"

"No. I'll do it. Jack you sit here and wait or do SOMETHING while I'm helping your sister. I need to talk with her." Both Jack and I swallowed hard because when Dad wants to talk to either one of us, no one leaves the room that we were discussing in with a smile on their face. Ever.

Dad propped me up onto his shoulder and he helped me upstairs. The trip down the hall to the bathroom seemed longer than it used to be. "So, Dad" I started. "What was it that you wanted to talk to me about again?" I asked sheepishly. "I wanted you to tell me how your leg got to be like this," He made a large gesture to my bleeding leg with his hands and his arms. "Now I want the truth. You hear?"

"Yes, Sir." I replied with my head down, but with my eyes up at Dad. "You know, Eliza? You look exactly like your mother when you that eye thing. She did the exact same thing." I smiled at the compliment, but then I felt my hot tears trickle down my face at the thought of remembering my mom. I couldn't hold it in anymore and I just broke down crying. Dad put my head on his shoulders, rubbed my back, and talked to me soothingly like I was an infant. It was childish, but it helped. "It's ok, Eliza. It'll be ok."

So I told Dad the whole entire story. Dad got a very worried look on his face when I told him the part where I almost became zombie chow. He interrupted me mid-story. "Did that thing bite you? Is that why you're bleeding?" I told him to let me finish telling him what happened because I was just about to tell him the part where Jack saved my life by killing that thing. He patiently waited and listened while he sewed up my leg. Believe me; it was VERY painful. And the worst part was that I am afraid, no TERRIFIED of needles. It's not the main thing that I should be afraid of at this time in history, but I can't help what I am afraid of and what I'm not. I just let the words fly right out of my mouth while I just let my mind wander elsewhere.

It seemed like we were in the bathroom for hours, but Dad finally got my leg stitched up and wrapped in gauze. We came downstairs and Jack stood at the foot of the stairs seeing my difficulty walking on my newly patched up leg. Jack laughed as I pretended to fall on the second to last step, but he only laughed when he caught me after I actually fell on the last step.