People are wrong when they talk about death. They always describe it as a sting, but that's like comparing slitting someone's throat to a paper cut.
Really, it's an ache. It's an ache that starts deep in your bones and works its way through you until you feel like you're going explode. It comes over you in waves and beats you against the shore of grief over and over again. You may finally dry the tears and tell yourself it will be okay, but then you'll see something or just have a thought or a memory and you dissolve in a little puddle of tears again.
After a while, I make myself get up. I'm not hungry, but I know I should eat something. I decide to fix some shells and cheese because that was Paisley's favorite. We always had to have a whole pantry full of it because the kid ate it so fast.
I sit on the couch with my bowl in my hands and turn the news back on, all the while feeling completely numb.
The same reporter comes up, looking tired and slightly rumpled.
"There have been hundreds confirmed dead from this disease, still with no hope for a cure. The president has declared a national state of emergency. People have been looting stores and other's homes. We urge you to please stay inside, lock your doors, and stay safe. The government is doing everything they can to get this under control and th-"
I finally get sick of it and kill the TV.
I lay down again and stare at the ceiling. I don't even notice when the tears start to fall.
--------------------------------------------
I drag myself off of the couch and upstairs to the bathroom.
I undress and turn on the tap to the hottest setting.
I step into the shower and let the scalding hot water sting my skin. After a while, I wash my hair and stuff. I climb out and instantly put on my softest pajamas.
I go downstairs and notice that there is a noise outside. You can hear hundreds of car alarms going off. And I'm sure that mixed in there somewhere is our car's horn, blaring along with the rest.
I wish they would stop.
I turn on the TV, hoping to drown out the sound, but instead of the news, all that shows is a blue screen with the same message playing on repeat. Stay inside. Wait for the government. Avoid the sick.
I leave it on the TV and sit eating even more shells and cheese. That's all I really want to eat.
We were out of almost everything else.
--------------------------------------------
The food is almost gone. I know that I'll have to go outside soon, so I decide why not today. I take a shower and get dressed wearing jeans and long sleeve even though it's hot outside just so I can prevent touching anything with the germs on it.
I rummage through Dad's drawers until I find his box of old bandannas. I pick up a red one and tie it around the lower half of my face. Maybe now I won't get sick instantly.
I take as many kitchen knifes as I can and stuff them in my belt and take the tee ball bat just for good measure. Honestly, I doubt I would be able to actually use them, but it stills feels nice knowing that they're there if I need them.
I creep out the door with the biggest backpack I could fit on my back and a duffel bag in my hands.
I make the long trek into downtown and see a few bodies that have long dried blood trails. A few of them have birds pecking around them. Disgusting.
I make it to the grocery store and see that the glass has been broken out of the windows. I go in anyways and start to look around.
A lot of stuff has been taken, but there is still a lot left.
I score a bunch of boxes of shells and cheese, a bunch of bottles of water, some slightly crushed crackers, and some more stuff.
I head into the medicine department and find some Advil, fever reducers, and some antibiotics, along with some stuff that I don't know how to pronounce.
I head out and I'm walking down the town square when I see all the fancy boutiques that I had always wanted to shop at, but had never gone to.
Ruby had shopped there some, but not much because of how pricey it had been. Mom never let me shop there. Every time I went in, the woman behind the counter seemed to know this and gave me a look as if to tell me that I should leave. So I usually did.
They were practically untouched, so I decided I might as well make a stop.
I use my bat for the first time to bust the door. I felt really guilty afterwards, but I soon forgot about it after seeing what all was inside.
There was all kinds of revealing, sparkly pieces of clothing that I had been dying to try on and now I got the chance.
I got fancy prom dresses, sparkly tops, super skinny jeans, lacy underwear, top-of-the-line bras, and glimmering jewelry.
I put on a black dress that was covered in sequins and showed off my pale stomach, back, and thighs. I put on super high heels that I could hardly walk in, but looked amazing. I topped it off with a blinged out tiara.
It all looked ridiculous on top of my plain hair, untanned face, and unpierced ears.
I guess I'll just have to do something about that.
I get a super sharp earring and some tissues. I draw two dots on my ears where the earring would go and get ready to stick the earring into my ear.
I take a deep breath and feel my hand shaking, but I just can't do it.
I sit down and think for a second.
Well, now I'm an orphan. Hm. Orphan. Or. Phan.
I think over the word and say it out loud trying to get accustomed to the sound of it.
"Orphan. Orrrphaaaannnnn," I say. "I'm an orphan." It just sounds so wrong.
Well then if I'm an orphan, what would an orphan do? What's something I've always wanted to do that my parents wouldn't let me do?
Oh, the possibilities.
I stop by the beauty salon before heading home in my ridiculous getup.
--------------------------------------------
Hi guys!
I bet you're all think "wow, I wonder what this idiot will do next?"
Well I'll tell you how to find out. Read the next chapter! I'll try to post as regularly as I can!
Love you guys!
