Dark Story: A Mother's Love

Dark Story
© Copyright 2001 by P. June Diehl


The petite woman dragged the lifeless body of her young son through the car littered street.

Where proud buildings once stood, piles of rubble laid. Where people one lived, only the dead and dying could be found. Small animals scurried around her, not afraid.

She worked thoughtlessly, moving the now decaying, bloated body a few feet. Stopping to catch her breath, her mouth dry from lack of any liquid, the young mother tried to steady her shallow breathing. The woman knew that the diseased-filled air was slowly destroying her body.

Heavy hearted and cold, she knew she must make it back to the camp before the darkness set in about her. She would never allow the monstrous creatures of the dark to steal her son, not even now.

"Yealllow!" screeched a sound from behind her. Turning, she faced the direction of the inhuman sound. Pushing a wave of light brown hair out of her face, she collapsed to the ground.

"How can I go on?" she wondered aloud. "Why, dear god? Why?"

The pleading words echoed in the street and the alley to her left. She glanced down the alley looking for an answer.

The flapping of a cardboard notice posted on the corner street lamp caught her attention. She knew the words by heart, without reading them: Warning! All citizens are requested to remain in their homes until the current medical emergency is over. Please stay calm. Addition information will be provided on your local tv or radio station.

“Stay calm,” she laughed, the hysteria seeping into her voice. “Millions of deaths and they want us to stay calm?”

With a dirty hand she erased the tears starting to form in her eyes. She must go on. She must get her son home.

Back to her task, she lifted the handkerchief around her neck and covered her nose and mouth. She touched the tangled hair of her precious child, lifted his shoulders and continued down the street.

As the sun began to sink behind a half standing building, she turned the last corner. Almost there, she thought. Glancing down the street, she saw the tent, still in place. No one else was in sight.
"Only a little way to go," she whispered to her son," We're almost home."

Lifting the 10 year old she tried carrying him the last couple of steps. She moved backward into the tent, darkness coming from within.

Suddenly the tent was filled with people and light. "Happy Birthday!" chimed the greeting.
Turning around with her son dangling from her arms, ready to collapse from his weight, she stared at the people inside the tent. All was still, no one spoke.

A stream of tears slid down her face.




WORD COUNT: 454