She closed the book, placed it on the table, and finally decided to walk through that door. Timidly, Janie grasped the handle of the door to her sister’s room.  The old picture book reminded her that Deb needed her, so she hesitantly entered. The night before, Deb had exclaimed in terror that neither one of them would survive if Janie didn’t leave. Unlike so many times before, Janie couldn’t calm her sister. Janie had had no choice but to silence her erratic outburst, or the bad men would hear.

She quickly found their dad’s old sleeping medicine and poured a heavy amount into Deb’s breathing machine. The smell of a minty fish oil had filled the room because of the medicine. Janie expected Deb to be reluctant to talk, but she would forgive her. Deb was diagnosed with ALS three years before the world erupted into chaos. Today, Deb can’t breathe without the assistance of her machine. After the bad men killed their parents, Janie had the responsibility of keeping her and her sister safe. For four months now, Janie had kept them alive.
Deb’s room was kept dark, so the travelling bad men who captured women wouldn’t find the girls. Their mother’s old dressers were pushed tightly against the doors, attempting to keep any intruders out.

“Deb?” Silence. The white curtains around Deb’s bed hung stagnant with dust. Janie knew the drug had worn off; however, Deb could be sleeping or ignoring her. Janie could hear the hum of the machine that allowed her sister’s muscles to relax.

“Deb, please, I know that you are upset with me; I was just trying to make sure the bad men... Oh, just please! Mom and Dad would want us to... I need you!” Janie had delicate tears running from her eyes as she reached forward to gently pull the curtain back. She expected to see Deb with her arms wide open for a hug.
Instead, silence. Silence. Silence. You have to be silent. Janie’s face contorted into a horrified look as she stared down at Deb’s ice cold features. Her skin was pale, lips blue, eyes wide open to the ceiling. The only movement of life was her chest rising and falling with the machine. Up and down, hmm, hmm. Janie shrieked in horror and kicked the machine that contradicted her sister’s death. The plug-in tore violently from the socket with hot sparks. Deb’s machine was as dead as her now. Janie’s tears spilled onto Deb’s pale, pink comforter and washed the dust away.