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day 8: hospital

sam reached over the nurse and opened the fridge. she may not be able to save her parents, but she could do something.

she pulled out two bottles of morphine. then she began hurriedly pulling contents off the shelves, look for the syringes. she quickly became frustrated. she didn't know where to look, and there was a chance the syringes were part of the broken instruments under the overturned shelves.

sam looked at the dead nurse. so far she had avoiding touching or getting too close to any of the bodies. she had been trying to avoid really thinking about them. her hand was shaking as she reached out for the syringe in the nurse's arm. she grasped the warm plastic and tugged it out of the nurse. sick to her stomach, she scrambled out of the room and ran for the car.

her parents were still in the back of the car, the blood trickling more quickly down their faces. the only movements they made were slight convulsions of pain. sam opened the door and sat on the edge of the backseat.

"mom, dad, the doctors are real busy, so they gave me some medicine for you."

her parents didn't look like they were even hearing her. she was talking more for herself than for them, trying not to focus on what she was about to do.

she reached for her father first. she filled the syringe with morphine, then stuck it into his arm and pressed on the plunger. slowly, the syringe emptied itself.

she laid her father back and reached for her mother. again, she filled the syringe with the other bottle of morphine and plunged it into her mother's arm. once empty, she pulled the syringe out and dropped it onto the road.

she sat there with her parents. their bodies went lax, faces peaceful.

sam watched as their breathing stopped. she stood up and closed the door. leaning against the car, she slowly slid to the ground and began to cry.

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