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.