Dust

Chapter three - Lucy

A/N: MAY BE TRIGGERING
"We broke the stairs and filled the bathtub and all the sinks in the upper stories, so we don't run out of water. Clever, huh?" One of the twins said. It was Billie, according to the scar on his cheek. They said it was one way to distinguish them.
"Yeah, really clever! Good job guys!" Mickey said.
Joe shot her a glare. She laughed.
"Hey, I'm serious!"
Everyone climbed up the ladder to the second floor and somehow managed it to get up all of the bags, cans, bottles and weapons. Chris looks around the large floor. They had four rooms, a hallway and a bathroom to use.
"Nice!" Dan whistled. "Guys come here!" He yelled from the balcony. Chris jogged into his direction, almost tripping over one of the bags they left in the hallway.
There was a bus in the garden. A large, carefully painted tour bus, just like a band would have.
Dan climbed over the balcony railing and jumped down into the garden.
It was like fifteen feet to the ground so Chris climbed down the ladder instead. The girls and the twins were already on their way outside.
"Fuck, that's perfect!" Skylar said. "We don't need that stupid van any longer, I broke my nails with those damn seat belts!"
"She's right, that thing IS perfect!" Billie shouted from inside. Gwendolyn and the twins poked their heads out. Dan had inspected the trunk.
"We could fit all of our stuff in there so I guess we'll replace the van."
-<>-
Late in the evening, they sat in the biggest room, surrounded by their stuff, eating and talking.
"My dad is a tattooist." Gwendolyn said pushing her red hair behind one ear. "And my mom is a therapist."
"My dad was a marine. Died in war. And my mom has a clothing line." Dan said, finishing his food.
Skylar had somehow made it to make something eatable out of all the stuff they 'bought'.
"Hey what about your parents?" Mickey said, poking Chris with the end of her spoon. He sighed.
"I lived with my dad. He had several jobs as a teacher. Pretty shitty dude."
"Oh okay."
No more was spoken that evening.
-<>-
Chris was woken up by the sound of the ladder creaking. He sat up quickly. What was that? A zombie? Another survivor? He grabbed his old sneakers and a hoodie and tiptoed over to the ladder.
"Who's that?" He whispered. No one answered. But someone must have been there. He looked out of the window. In the light of the moon he could see someone running trough the garden away from the house and towards the street.
They had short, blue hair and wore a huge black hoodie.
Mickey.
What the heck was that bitch doing? Hunting for zombies? She didn't look like a good fighter to be honest.
Going for a Starbucks? That sounded more like some Skylar would do.
Chris groaned. He didn't want to get out, he wanted to go back to sleep, but he also wanted to know where Mickey was going.
"Eh, I can sleep when I'm dead." He mumbled and climbed down the ladder.
It wasn't hard to follow Mickey since the ground was still wet from the rain before and she was wearing heavy leather boots. Within less than ten minutes, Chris walked up to her.
"Hey," he said. He had expected her to jump or to be angry at him because he followed her. But she jut smiled a bit and said:
"Hey"
"Where are you going?"
She sighed. "I need to make sure if someone is safe."
"I'll go with you!"
"Don't. Go back, you should probably get some sleep or at least rest a bit."
He stopped walking.
"Mickey." He said sternly. "You are walking through a town full of sleeping zombies and no offense, but you look weak as hell. I'll go with you or we'll both go back. Okay?"
She nodded. "Fine. But don't expect me to be nice!"
He chuckled. "Accepted. As long as you don't go alone."
They walked about two and a miles into town, none of them talking.
Chris was staring at his old - now muddy - sneakers as he walked. They walked downtown, into the dirtiest and worst part of the small town and Mickey stopped in front of a dirty white house full of graffiti. Chris almost walked into her since he was still staring at his sneakers - or the remains of it. The muddy streets had ruined them completely.
"Here we go..." Mickey mumbled and kicked in the door. She started stumbling up the stairs, slightly shaking. Chris frowned and followed her, carefully trying to not slip on her muddy footprints.
They ended up on the last floor, just under the roof. Mickey reached into her pocket, pulled out a key and unlocked the door with shaky fingers. She took a deep breath, pushed the door open and entered the small apartment.
The first thing Chris noticed after he had followed her, were the walls: every inch of them was covered in drawings. But not just the walls, even the furniture had been painted on.
"This place is amazing!" He said.
"Yeah... She's truly and artist." Mickey said, opening another door. It led to the kitchen. A girl's body was propped up against the wall, a pan in her left hand.
Mickey gasped. She ran over to body, dropped to her knees and hugged her tight.
Chris just stood there. Mickey started crying. Chris stood there. Mickey took the pan from the girls hands and took them in hers. Chris still stood there. He cleared his throat. She - Mickey, not the body, that would have been terrifying - looked up.
"Who- who is that?" He asked.
She sighed and got up.
"That's my older sister, her name is Lucy." She said and pulled a chair from the kitchen table.
"Tell me about her. I don't know anything about you." Chris said.
Mickey sighed and pulled Lucy's body up from the ground.
"She's one year older than me. The three of us -"
"Wait, three?! You have another sibling?"
She nodded sadly and placed Lucy on the chair. Her head fell back and Chris could see her face. She was really pretty; dark eyelashes with black, thick eyeliner, red lipstick and pale, clear skin.
"We had a brother, Kyle." She said quietly.
"Had?"
"He... Umm... He joined the black parade when I was thirteen... He's dead."
-<>-
Mickey and Chris were sitting at Lucy's kitchen table. Lucy was sitting next Mickey, limb and lifeless.
Mickey was braiding Lucy's black locks, or at least the remains of it; the sides were both shaved.
Mickey was talking.
"He has always been bullied and with fourteen, he developed an eating disorders. My parents tried to help him but they didn't understand. Lucy always did. They were only two years apart, he would always talk to her. And when he was fifteen it was the worst. My parents had taken him out of school because of his anxiety and the bullying. And Lucy, she would always run from the school bus with me... to... To make sure he... Didn't kill himself. And one day, we... Stopped running." She choked back tears and stopped talking for a minute. Then she continued, her voice slightly shaking.
"Lucy was broken. And so was I. Our parents became so... Awkward around us. They removed every picture of him and made his room into an office. Mom worked even more and was never at home. Dad practically moved out. He got a job in New York and was only home at the weekend. We were basically on our own. Lucy's schizophrenia got worse. I could hear her cry in her room. I wasn't doing well either. I developed an anxiety and -"
She stopped talking and showed Chris a pink scar on her left wrist.
"I tried killing myself. The anxiety was too much. But Lucy was there for me, she bandaged the cut and became my best and only friend. But one day, I took it to far and I... lost her."
Mickey looked down at the scar, tracing it with her index finger. She was shaking again.
"How did you... You know... Lose her?" Chris asked. This topic was making him uncomfortable, but he wanted to know the rest of the story.
She lifted her other wrist, revealing a stitched up, faded scar.
"I made a second attempt. She didn't help this time. My parents brought me to the hospital. Every time I mentioned something about my anxiety or the self harming towards Lucy, she'd leave or say something like 'just stop' and... That didn't help."
"Oh."
"Hmm. And then, one day, I fell and bruised my ribs and I had to wet a bandage. That bandage made my chest look flat and people mistook me for a boy a lot. I liked that for some reason. I liked having no gender."
"And Lucy?" Chris asked, fiddling his fingers.
"She didn't like it at all. She moved out soon, when she turned eighteen. We broke contact."
"Oh" Chris didn't know what to say.
Mickey got up.
"It's almost sunrise. We should go back or Dan will shoot me." She gave a little chuckle.
-<>-
They arrived at the house after a little incident: Chris had fallen and scraped his knee and elbow.
"Theeeere they are!" Skylar - Chris had decided to just call her sky - screeched when they had climbed up the ladder.
"You guys want any breakfast?" Gwendolyn asked, her mouth full of sandwich.
Mickey opened her mouth but she got cut off by Dan.
"Where have you been?" Dan yelled, standing in front of them, alms it spitting on her face.
"I had to check something." Mickey said coldly.
Dan's eyes landed on the blood on Chris.
"What happened to him Mickey? Did he get hurt? Where did you make him go?!"
Mickey groaned.
"Nowhere, he followed me."
"Um guys, I'm right here!" Chris said with a small and awkward wave.
Dan looked at him.
"Go to bed, Chris. You're hurt. I'll be there in a second to take care of it, okay?" He said softly.
"It's only a scrape!" Chris protested.
"Go!" Dan yelled.
That guy is fucking bipolar! Chris thought. One second he's nice and the next, he's an asshole again.
But he still went into the room he and Dan shared, kicked his shoes off and went into bed. The second he had laid down, Dan opened the door.
"You okay?" He said gently.
Chris nodded.
Dan grabbed a medicine bag from the cupboard next to the door and sat down on next to Chris.
He carefully dabbed a tissue into some... Medicine stuff and placed it on the scrape on Chris elbow.
Chris flinched at the burning feeling.
Dan chuckled.
"Hey, calm down, it's only alcohol." He said softly and ran his free hand through Chris black hair. Chris flinched again.
"Aw, scared of me? Don't be, darling." Dan mumbled quietly.
BIPOLAR! Chris thoughts screamed. He tried to ignore them.
It worked.
Dan had finished his elbow and now moved to his knee, where his black skinny jeans were ripped.
Chris flinched again.
Dan chuckled.
"Don't worry, sweetie, I'm done" he said.
Chris let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.