Day One (Book 1): Alive by Michael Mcdonald Page B

lying on the kitchen floor and my step-daughter hovered over her, and then coming at me. I thought about how I had watched Mary die and never raised a finger to help her. The cowardly feelings returned. The hate for myself wasn’t far behind.
    “I want to thank you for what you did. There aren’t very many people who would have done what you did for a complete stranger, even with me babbling about killing you,” I said to her, hoping that she would see it that way.
    “A child should never be forced to suffer,” she replied and turned away from me.
    I felt the awkwardness begin to drag and wondered if I should leave her alone. I couldn’t think of anything more to say and standing there looking at her probably wasn’t the greatest idea. The last thing I needed was for her to think I was a weirdo or something.
    She could see I was in deep thought about something. “A penny for your thoughts?”
    “Some things are best left unsaid,” I said.
    “And some aren’t,” she replied.
    “I don’t really know what I’m thinking… why I don’t feel anything when I should or why I should have done that, but did this instead,” I told her.
    “That’s normal. You’re just going through survivor’s guilt, and it will pass in time.”
    I looked at her as though she were crazy. “Normal? This is not normal, by any means! I lost my wife and did nothing to help, watched people I have known my entire life die in front of me, and once again did nothing to help… all I could do was scurry away like some frightened rabbit, worried about my own ass and no one else! There’s nothing normal about that, lady!” I hadn’t meant to be an asshole to her, I just sort of got out of control and the emotion bled through.
    She gave me her full attention by turning toward me and leaning against the opposite wall. “So you are convinced in your mind that you are a coward because you fled instead of risking your life to save these people when you had your daughter with you, right?”
    I simply nodded, as words eluded me.
    “Courage isn’t the actions of someone that isn’t afraid of dying. It’s actually quite the opposite.”
    “Is that so?” I said snidely.”
    “Yeah, it is.”
    I shrugged my shoulders at her words.
    “It’s someone who is scared shitless, but still chooses to help another person, which is exactly what you did. So don’t label yourself anything short of that, because it took a lot more than you’re giving yourself credit for, to do the things you had to do to keep your daughter alive.”
    “And let others die in the process.”
    She crossed her arms and shook her head. “You can’t save everyone. The fate of the world and everyone in it is not in your hands. Things happen for a reason, we don’t understand why, but they still happen for a reason.” She pushed away from the wall and stopped in front of me. “You did the very best given the situation you were in. Your daughter still being alive proves that.”
    Her words caressed me; however, I didn’t feel motivated by them. I didn’t feel like a hero of any sort, but more and more like a cowardly failure. “No matter how you wrap it up or the amount of ribbons and bows you put on it. A coward is still a coward.”
    She shifted her position and leaned against the metal wall again. “I can understand that you’re going through something difficult, I get that. But now is not the time to start turning on yourself and those around you, especially those that went out of their way to save your ass, as well as your daughters.” Her tone began to flare.
    “Excuse me because I’m not taking the end of the world as lightly as your gun totting ass is! You probably love this shit, and if so then good for you, but I have people that mean the world to me that I cannot protect, and one I put behind my own needs!” I exclaimed.
    She bit her lip, nodded to the comment and abruptly walked out of the container. I felt the mistake slap me across the face. I had