~~~Present Time~~~
I've been walking for hours now.
The sun is directly overhead, beating down on my forehead. It's so hot, hot enough that my shorts stick to my thighs, even though they're cut short enough that they go only a couple inches past my knees. My tennis shoes heat my feet and make them sweaty and uncomfortable. I'm only wearing my t-shirt now, of an old video game; my jacket shoved into my bag alog with some other clothes I packed.
It was almost winter when The Parade occured, so there weren't many flip-flops in store. I had to make my own shorts. I had checked every store in the city for summer-y things but I have seen nothing. Maybe as I'm traveling I'll find a store or something that has winter supplies.
Every step I take my head gets lighter. I feel a little dizzy. I've officially passed the city, I have for a while now and that distance seems good enough for now. I need to rest. Up ahead I see a gas station and a McDonalds close by.
I am starving, I think to myself, looking up at the shiny yellow arch. How good it would be to have just one more hamburger...
Blue drags along behind me cumbersomely, wobbling the slightest with each step. It's kinda cute.
I reach the gas station and throw myself inside. The interior is fading: wallpaper that's still has paisley print on it, cracking cement floor, musty air. It smells of dead and rotting animals. Rows of canned and packaged food lay untouched and plentiful.
I think I've been in here before with my mom. But things changed after The Parade. It did everywhere, I suppose. Empty shops, empty stores, empty everything. Completely empty everywhere. streets devoid of people and cars and lights. I remember looking out the window and seeing the soldiers march methodically down the street, each step leaving a lingering echo. Seeing fearful people doing the same as I, staring and hoping for something, anything to happen, a savior that never came.
My bag drops to the floor with large 'kerplunk' as Blue trails in behind me. I pick up a lighter and set it down, beginning to pace around, looking for nothing in particular to eat.
"Hm..." I say. "You hungry, Blue? They might have some kibble." She ignores me and starts to strut around the store. I start to examine an aisle of canned goods covered in a visible layer of dust. Gently, I run my finger over one, drawing a smiley face. Inside, my spirits perk up. I have seen a smile in forever. The dust explodes into a cloud and dances with the sunlight pouring in the smudged windows.
Canned cream corn, yum.
I arrange a large stack of cans into my extra bag and a tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush as well.
If there's one thing I'm not good at remembering to do, it's brushing my teeth. It just slips from my mind and then one day I realise my teeth feel disgustingly fuzzy-which is gross, but bearable because I don't need to worry about anyone catching a whiff of my breath.
But I do get really picky about when I take a bath, because I get this weird itch all over if I feel too dirty. I take one at least once every three days.
Blue yelps suddenly and I jump mile-high, dropping a can of cherry pie filling to the ground. It lands on my toe, which starts to blossom pain instantly
"Hey!" I cry in response. "What you want?"
She pushes her nose into the air and howls. The dog's yell echoes in the silent gas station.
"Stop," I hiss at Blue. The howling continues, piercing my eardrums. This noise is so obnoxious and loud. It's driving me mad. After minutes of constant howling, I scream. I just scream.
