All is Silence

The silence is the first thing you notice. Not the peaceful kind, but the heavy, unsettling quiet that has fallen over the world since the sickness came. From the gap in the living room blinds, you watch the empty street – once bustling with life, then patrolled by cars blaring warnings, now just… still.
Weeks ago, your mother took your younger brother, Jayce, and her boyfriend, Doug, to the hospital. You haven't seen them since, the last memories a blur of angry words and fear.
The house is a mess, a physical manifestation of the chaos in your mind. Discarded clothes, forgotten snacks, and the broken landline phone are grim reminders of life before. You pace the floor, the silence amplifying your isolation.
Suddenly, a jarring sound – your cell phone ringtone, AC/DC's "Highway to Hell," slices through the quiet. It's working. On the screen, a picture of your mother glows. Hope, sharp and fragile, pierces the despair. You answer, heart pounding.
