Excerpt of Day 94 by D.M. Slate

Shards of broken glass littered the floor of our bedroom.
The wooden door was sturdy, but it had a large glass window
in the top-half of the door. He’d shattered the window, and
the dresser in front of the door shook with every swing of
the ax. I pulled the home-made gas mask over my mouth and
nose, and cautiously approached the door. The ax became
embedded in the wood; he had a difficult time pulling it
free. I was done trying to rationalize with this monster.

I crept along the bedroom wall with my back pressed flat,
hiding my presence. He was still struggling to get the ax
free. I never thought that he’d come back with an actual
weapon. In every scenario I’d imagined, we were on equal
fighting grounds. This changed my entire plan. As he
wrenched the ax back and forth, I jumped up in front of the
dresser and introduced my can of mace. Fluid shot out of
the can thru the broken window, landing squarely on his
face. I heard the liquid sizzle as it came in contact with
his skin.

He stopped, stunned, before unleashing a grueling scream.
Tears threatened to escape my eyes, but I refused to feel
guilty. He forgot about the ax and backed away from the
door, tearing at his eyes with both hands. With a surge of
determination I stood tall, and shouted as loudly as I
could, “Go Away. I swear to God, I’ll kill you if you try
coming back in.”

Wrong thing to say. His head jerked up and he looked the
door, as if welcoming the challenge. That instant I knew
one of us would die before this ended. He came at the door
with new-found strength, and tore the ax away in one savage
movement. I backed away, but didn’t retreat out of the
bedroom. The weight of the wall against my back was the
only thing keeping me standing. My knees shook and knocked
together, but I refused back down. At this point, it’s him
or me - and if it’s me, he’ll get the kids, too.