Then There Were Three

CH 1

I wake up, the faint morning sun peering through my sheer curtains in my upstairs bedroom.

It's a normal day in Florida, hot and humid.

I slip on my tank top and shorts, and lace up my converse. "ELLIE!" My mom calls.

I run down the steps. "Ellie-Mae!" She calls again, this time an edge in her voice.

"I'm here, I'm here!" I strut into the kitchen and take my place at the table, across from the High Chair where my baby brother, Ollie, sits wailing and throwing Cheerios everywhere.

"Eat up." My mom orders, passing me a plate of eggs and bacon.

I nibble on the bacon slowly, enjoying the rich meat. It leaves a weird after taste, which I wash down with my orange juice.

My mom doesn't like it when I don't finish my food. I don't normally eat all of my food, I usually slip it on my dad's plate, because he enjoys the extra food I give him since my mom rationed his portions.

"You'd better take your rain jacket today. Forecast calls for a storm." My dad says, looking over his glasses to see me.

I nod and finish my orange juice, when the TV's volume seems to increase by 75%.

"We interrupt this broadcast for breaking news," A man on the TV says urgently, "There are more and more becoming infected with this rare disease. No one knows how. Do not walk up to the infected. Do not try to help the infected. The infected bite, they destroy everything in their way. If you are infected, please visit your local hospital immediately." And the Cartoons start back up again.

"What? Infected?" I ask aloud. "People are getting sick, it's nothing to worry about. It's like the flu." My dad assures me, a weak smile on his face.

I nod nervously, and get up to put my plate in the sink.

I rinse it off and grab my lightweight, black, rain-jacket, tying it around my waist. I stuff my books in my bag, and grab it off of its hook next to the door.

"Bye. Love you!" My mom says. I give her a hug, and she kisses my head. "Love you too!"

"Love you!" My dad calls, blowing me a kiss. I pretend to catch it.

Ollie yells, waving his hands around. "Bye Ollie!" I laugh, and dart out the door, down the sidewalk.

The sky's overcast now, blocking the hot sun, although it's still humid. Just ask my hair. The sky makes low grumbles far away and I can tell a storm is coming.

My mom always told me if the leaves are "Turned over" then it's about to rain. That theory rarely works in my case, which I think it's just lack of attention on my part.

My feet make a rhythmic pace, my shoe sometimes kicking a rock, or getting scuffed by a mis-step.