≫ ──── ≪•◦ ✦ ◦•≫ ──── ≪
│ Surviving The End
_______________________________________
│Cast aside by a world that mistook her for infected, Aisha now sees the crumbling of humanity's reign over their miserable world. It's time for something new, som...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Dress ━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━
I woke up to the sound of my alarm blaring in my ears. Groaning, I reached over to shut it off, pulling the covers over my head to block out the sunlight streaming through my window. I knew I had to get up, but that didn't make it any easier. After a few more minutes of convincing myself to face the day, I finally threw the blankets off and sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"Alright, let's do this," I muttered to myself as I hopped out of bed and walked over to my closet. I quickly put my hair up in a ponytail, feeling the soft strands brush against my neck. I couldn't help but give it a little swish, watching it fly around behind my back as I twirled in front of the mirror. I was always a sucker for shiny things, so naturally, my wrists were adorned with a collection of bracelets that clinked together softly as I moved. Around my neck hung three necklaces and a choker—each piece carefully chosen to match my outfit.
Today, I decided on a pair of skinny jeans and a cute top that matched the color of my favorite sneakers. After one last look in the mirror, I grabbed my bag and hurried downstairs.
"AISHA! CAN YOU HURRY UP?" My brother's voice echoed through the house, making me jump. In my rush, I realized I had forgotten my bag. Groaning in frustration, I dashed back up the stairs to grab it, mentally cursing my lack of focus this early in the morning.
By the time I got back downstairs, my brother was waiting by the door, tapping his foot impatiently. "You know, some of us have places to be," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
I shot him a glare as I slung my bag over my shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. Let's go."
It was Monday, and like any almost-20-year-old, I had to get to university. The car ride was silent except for the low hum of the engine and the occasional huff of annoyance from my brother. He always drove like we were late, even though we weren't. Maybe he just liked the thrill, or maybe he just wanted to get away from me as quickly as possible. Not that I cared—I was too tired to make conversation anyway.
The weekend had been long, spent working at the flower shop just a five-minute walk from our house. The shop was located on the outskirts of the city, near a vast forest that stretched for miles. It was a peaceful spot, and I loved being surrounded by the vibrant colors and sweet scents of the flowers. The work was steady and paid well enough, but it was more than just a job to me. It was my escape—a place where I could lose myself in the simple tasks of arranging bouquets and tending to the plants.
