She looked between my horrified face and the bed several times before fully processing what had happened.
"Oh. . .oh no. . ."
The rest of the day passed by in a hazy blur. It felt like I was watching my actions from someone else's eyes as I carefully lifted my daughter from her bed and carried her outside. Unable to bear the thought of throwing her into the ocean, my wife and I spent the rest of the day burying her behind the house. I vaguely remembered lowering the corpse into the earth and leaving a marker where the grave was. My wife wept with her eyes averted, unable to speak or even watch as I patted down the dirt. I, on the other hand, felt numb to everything, going without food for the day despite the hunger gnawing at my stomach.
Over the next few months, even more diseases began to run rampant in our village. People were getting sick from the acidic water, and many contracted deadly illnesses that killed them within weeks. The hospital was forced to close due to the lack of staff and funds, which only heightened the terrible state of our village. Some people were found dead in their beds, still and cold, much like my daughter. Others collapsed in the streets and never got up again. It was only a matter of time before our already small town was reduced to just fifty or so people. Every night, I prayed for a miracle, someone, or something to end our suffering.
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