My dad deserted us. Weeks later my mum caught the 'flare'. I was 8 years old.
I was only 8, yet I had to make my own dinner, do my own hair and put myself to bed, always dreading the night to come, that's when it all started. My father deserted us when the flare plunged the world into havoc and my mother had never recovered. Only weeks later the flare entwined itself into her brain, taking advantage of her depression, causing a path of destruction. She locked herself into her room so she couldn't harm me and made me promise to throw the key away. It was ok at first, apart from the fact that I hadn't seen my mother in weeks, until the howling and pleading began at night. It seemed to be the worst... until silence came. The door creaked open as I unlocked it with the key I secretly kept because of the narrow thread of hope I held onto. I stepped inside with no idea what I would be greeted with. "Mum?" I cautiously asked. A small sound came from the bathroom. I peeked my head around the corner and saw a figure lying on the ground. "Mum?" I repeated. She turned around. Stumbling backwards I let out a cry in fright of the bloody corpse facing me. Everything was wrong. She was black, blue and red all over. The most horrifying thing was the eyes… and the fact that she had none. Just bloody sockets, exposed and infected by harsh conditions the flare has caused.
It's still vivid in my mind, with every waking step I take. It always will be. No amount of memory serum can get rid of it. Believe me, I've tried!