FINDING LIGHT IN DARKNESS

**Alivia POV**

As I walked back to the infirmary, I could not help but feel a sense of hope and optimism for the future. Despite the chaos and destruction caused by the virus, I felt like there was a way to make a difference and help those affected. I couldn’t help but wonder how as the Princess of Adrenia I was the last to know of this virus, it felt like I was hidden from the outside world unknown to my peoples suffering.

I made my way into the infirmary and began checking on the little girl. Her condition began to improve, and she slowly opened her eyes. “Where am I?” She asked weakly, her voice barely audible. Her eyes were an ethereal blue like her father’s, but the light of youth had not yet faded from them. Her blonde hair was tangled in a mass of snarls and knots.

Startled by the light, she blinked rapidly as her vision focused on the woman standing before her. “Hi, I’m Alivia, I am your nurse, you were hurt but you can heal now that you are safe at the infirmary. What is your name?” I say with a warm smile.

With my help she struggled to prop herself up on the pillow. Her long curly hair hid her face for a few seconds as she brushed it away and glanced around the room. “I’m Mia,’ she says in a rough voice, ‘Where’s my Daddy?’” She asks as her voice croaks with emotion.

I hesitated, not knowing how to break the news to her gently. “Mia, I’m sorry but your father is really sick, and we are doing everything we can to help him. Do you have any other family that I can call?” I ask and she shakes her head.

“My dad is all I have,” she sobbed, her body shaking with each sob, her voice quivering. “He’s all I have.” Her dark eyes welled up with tears, and she started to shiver.

I reached for a handkerchief and tenderly dabbed at her cheeks. Warm tears slid down my fingers and gathered at the tips before dribbling onto her pink cheeks. I held her tightly. My own eyes filled with tears as I remembered sitting on Lexi’s lap while she wiped away my tears when my father was sick, just as I was doing for Mia. She felt like me then, unsure of what to do next and lost without a lifeline to keep her from drowning. All I could now was, be there for her and offer my warmth, to let her know that she would not have to go through this alone. I knew the feelings of loneliness she was experiencing now, and I wanted to ease the pain the best way I knew how.

As we sat there together, I rocked her gently and sang a lullaby Lexi used to sing to me. Mia’s sobs slowly subsided and she hiccupped a few times before finally drifting off to sleep. I sat with her for a few more minutes, making sure she was comfortable before getting up to check on her father.

Sarah was at his bedside, and she looked up as I approached. “He’s not doing well,” she whispered, “I’m afraid the curse is taking hold.” I nodded, understanding her fears, but knowing that we couldn’t give up hope. We continued to care for both Mia and her father, doing everything we could to keep them both comfortable and give them the best chance of recovery. We also decided to move Mia to a separate room, so she doesn’t get exposed to the virus.

We followed every piece of advice Dr. Volkov had provided, desperately hoping to revive Mia’s father. We stayed up late into the night, watching the sun rise and set as we tried treatments in vain. The hospital room was dim and still, and Mia’s father’s face was gaunt, grey, and lifeless. Sarah broke down in tears, her sobs echoing through the quiet room. Mia’s eyes were empty and her lips quivered as she pleaded, “Please don’t leave me.”

I held her close, trying to offer her comfort and support. “I know it’s hard, Mia, but your father is in a better place now. He is no longer in pain and suffering. You’ll always have the memories of him and the love he had for you to hold onto,” I said softly, as she cried on my shoulder.

Agatha came in to check on Mia and upon seeing her distress she immediately scooped her up and hugged her. “Shh, there there, little one. I have got you now. You do not have to be scared or alone anymore. I am Agatha and I will take care of you from now on.”

Mia sniffled and hugged her back, “Thank you Agatha,” she whispered.

I watched as Agatha held Mia and rocked her gently, and I felt a pang of sadness for this little girl who had lost so much in such a short amount of time. But I also felt hope, knowing that she would be in good hands with Agatha and that she would have the support and love she needed to heal and recover.

The infirmary was becoming more and more crowded with people of all ages, genders, and backgrounds. Each patient had similar symptoms, yet no matter how hard we worked, the death toll remained high. The once peaceful halls were now filled with the cries of those mourning the loss of their loved ones.

Despite Sarah and my best efforts, the death toll continued to climb. We worked late into the night, our exhaustion and fear evident in each drawn breath, desperate to save those afflicted by the virus. We each whispered prayers to the moon goddess, hoping for a miracle, but our hope seemed to be slipping away as more people fell ill or succumbed to the virus. The town that once bustled with life was now shrouded in a cloud of grief and despair, and the future seemed uncertain.

I surveyed my surroundings, taking note of the stark white walls of the infirmary and the sickly figures lying in the beds. In that moment, I felt a spark of creativity, as if the moon goddess was whispering in my ear. I thought of my artwork and how it could bring a sense of comfort and hope to those in need, in this seemingly dark and dreary place.

I rushed back to my dorm and grabbed a few of the paintings I created at art school and made my way back to the infirmary carrying the large canvases firmly under my arm, I stepped into the infirmary. I hung the paintings along the walls, placing them in a way that they could be easily seen by all the patients. The paintings depicted nature scenes and landscapes, full of life, colour, and hope. I also played calming music in the background to provide a calming and inviting atmosphere to the infirmary. As family members of the patients passed by, they stopped to admire my work, and many would reach out to touch the canvases as if to bring some of the beauty into their own lives. Some would close their eyes and smile, as if the paintings and music were helping to lift the weight of their worries.