Seepage

Children face horrors every day--some in their home

Harriett heard the noise first and froze. She put her hand on her brother's. "Billy, listen to me now. We have to get out of here." He looked at her, and his face fell, a look of familiar dread dawning on it.

Harriett looked toward the end of the short hall with genuine fear, and the fear spread quickly to Billy. His big sister didn't scare easily; besides, he had a feeling he knew what she was afraid of.

"Sissy...I don't wanna go past it!"

Harriett knew the only ways out were the window or the stairs — directly through the invisible haze. The window was a last resort. Billy was only six, and he could get badly hurt. Harriett was ten, but her gymnastics would serve her well. Still... Don't panic, Harry, she thought in her mother's voice. Panic is what turns problems into emergencies.

Billy wasn't crying—yet. She couldn't stand it when he cried; it was so babyish. Instead, he grew surly and stubborn.

"Billy, how long can you hold your breath? Like when Mom takes us to the pool?"

The young boy tucked his chin and folded his arms. With knitted brows, he grumbled "Don't wanna hold my breath!"

Harriett knew they had to act soon, that time was running out. She wondered if a wet rag over their mouths and noses would help. She threw the thought away; the bathroom was barred to them anyway.

She felt the first effects of the cloud. She didn't want to scream, but she knew it was going to happen. Once it started building, it bubbled to the top of her vocal cords. She couldn't fight it anymore: devil be damned, she let the scream out:

"Daaaaad! Could you turn on the fan or at least flush?!"

(Word Count 297)