Time

June 5th

Diagnosed (as of today): 110

Deaths (as of today): 64

Total diagnosed: 444

Total deaths: 207

There were numerous deaths on this day. The numbers had suddenly shot up to almost thrice the amount the day before. Asher and the other doctors and nurses fussed over the many deaths happening. The hospital had entered a landmine of its own.

Asher was on his last shift that night when he passed by Wilder's care bed. Surprisingly, he must be asleep tonight. It's unusually quiet. He hovered his night light above the boy's bed, only to find the bedsheets empty. Wilder was not in bed.

Mildly hiding his worry, he hurried over to the nearest bathroom, and proceeded to open the door stalls one by one.

He opened the first stall. Empty.

The second. Empty.

The third.

His blood chilled. Asher could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Because before him, was Wilder lying on the cold stone floor, unconscious. The young boy had died from the third stage of symptoms: brain hemorrhage.

From then on, everything happened to be a blur. Wilder's body was cleansed, covered with a sheet, and transported to the morgue. It was a lot to take in for Asher. There were no more night discussions during his late shifts at work. It wasn't like he ever enjoyed them in the first place anyway. Or so he thought.

Three days later, Asher Smith was diagnosed with the same disease. He resigned as a doctor, and due to the lack of hospital beds available, spent his remaining days at home. Time really waits for one one, he thought to himself.