Moribund

Two

After both Gramma and I recalled the torment that Selene's story caused, I tucked her into her bed. She was so small, even the pillows seemed to engulf her being. I was still shaken by the events of the day. Who was that man outside the door? What kind of "flu" makes people crave flesh? Why does nobody else seem to care about it? Why does the maintenance man think I'm from the North? The thoughts ran marathons around my mental as I tossed and turned on my pitiful cot. My mind was so active, it urged my resting body to just get up and do something. I couldn't just lay around when that weird-ass disease was rampaging through the nation and no one seems to actually believe it's legitimacy. The phones. I could try to contact my old buddy, Durhame, in Atlanta. He currently attends the university I had to drop out of for Gramma. He was different than the typical crowd I hung out with. Who am I kidding? Crowd? He was just a different person than what I would see myself getting along with. Not that he was a bad person, he was just a typical jock. Super beefy, toned to the Gods, and his striking ebony skin tone further perpetuated his distinctive person. He was funny and charismatic, practically had girls throwing themselves onto him and anyone in his vicinity. I had a few flings that were short-lived, they would always feed me the "it's really not you, it's me" bullshit after I would catch them with some other asshole. I had known from the beginning it was most-likely just a ploy to get closer to Durhame, that hunky piece of shit. He truly is one of my closest friends, and getting closer to him made me realize how shallow I was. I hadn't spoken to him since he had told me of the latest rumor circulating Emory University. He pissed me off when the words rolled off his lips so easily, that I could 'off' Gramma effortlessly. I knew he would've never started the rumor, he knew the circumstances, but hearing it from him was enough. Gramma is all I have, my brain goes completely static when I imagine what I would do without Gramma. She's been my number one since I can remember, and now she's my only one, my only responsibility. My whole life's trajectory shifted to focus completely on Gramma. I know her passing is inevitable, and it's coming up, the woman turns 92 in January. I regret it in some ways, taking responsibility for her. I have nothing, no plan, no scholarship, no nursing degree, no nothing. I get too caught up in the decisions I've made that have already been cemented in place, I forget I have a life outside of my past choices. And in that life, I need to figure out what the fuck is going on. I threw my raggedy cover off my body and sat upright, looking at the phone sitting on a chipped nightstand. I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me as my hand began creeping towards the phone. The room fell silent, I heard my heartbeat in my ears. I lifted the phone from the receiver and before I could prepare my ears for a different sound, dial tone encompassed the whole room. I began dialing Durhame's number, but each beep corresponding to the number was followed by immediate dial tone.

I battled with the telephone until I felt like hurling it into my own head, and then battled some more with the kitchen phone. I felt more panic seep into my system. Not just for the fact they weren't working, but for the fact it solidified the idea that something's gone horribly awry beyond these four walls. 1:36. The stove clock reminded me that it was an odd time to finally decide to make a move. I just stood in the kitchen, perplexed on what I should do. My feet carried me to the end of the hall where I pulled the tattered curtain to the side to peek at the concrete jungle beneath. Huh. There's one or two people walki- staggering?- pretty far down the road. The main road. Fucking crackheads. The city looked deserted, yeah a few lights here and there, but no cars. My eyes kept darting over to the people in the street who look to either be dancing or tussling. Either way, I didn't care, as long as they stayed far away from this building, I don't need any more events. Unsurprisingly, they inched closer and closer to the entrance of our apartment building over the span of about 10 minutes. I hadn't taken my eyes off them for minutes straight, something was off. Initially I couldn't stop staring because I was confused, but eventually the motive for staring was because I couldn't have been mistaken. My eyes began to mist-over, I wasn't entirely sure why. Probably because my brain wasn't truly able to comprehend what my eyes presented, those people were the people I saw on the news. If you can even call them that, they've lost all humanity, or so I've heard... and so far, seen. The first report I heard was about three days ago, maybe even four, and it was in Florida. Maybe that's why the nationwide reaction is so dull, because it first got noticed in Florida, a place where any and everything goes. Although we had our own suspicions about the trueness of it, Gramma and I made it a point to avoid leaving the house for a few days. I had been to Florida once, in my gap year, with my girlfriend, Camile. Well, I suppose not really my girlfriend, but it was as close as just that. Jesus. Where do I begin about her. We definitely didn't go hand-in-hand. She had auburn red, curly hair that was as beautiful and wild as her. She was always drawing me out of my shell, taking me to bars, concerts, street races, raves even. I miss having that adrenaline rush. Simply being around her gave me a surge of energy like she was amphetamines coursing through me. I wish we didn't argue as much as we did though, I was just too hermitic and couldn't bear stepping out of my safe space. On the flip side, curiosity killed the cat. Ouch, why'd I think that. Fuck. That funny feeling of regret and guilt showed up. Where you think of something that you shouldn't have because now it's all that will occupy the space in your mind.