I wanted to do something to my hair, but I couldn't decide what.
I could do blue. Or black. Or purple. Or white and pink ombré. Or anything really.
I finally decide on one of the first and most frequent things that Ru had done to her hair: fire engine red.
I had the box sitting on the counter, along with self tanner, and some ridiculously priced makeup.
I smear the stuff on my head and wrap it up, setting a timer for the right amount of time.
I start on the self tanner and do as the box says and put it all over my face and body. I let it set and go down to watch the same message cross the TV and listen to the car alarms, blaring out that the world isn't as it should be.
Eventually the time comes for me to rinse my hair and body.
I climb into the shower and watch as the water turns an ugly rust color from the red and brown coming off of my body. I gently scrub my skin before climbing out and drying off.
I look into our mirror and feel my stomach drop. My self tanner smeared and now I have weird streaks all over. I can't really tell about my hair because of how wet it is, but it doesn't look too bad.
I plug in the hairdryer and start to run my fingers through my hair. I look in the mirror once it's done and regret it all.
I may have once been able to pull off the red. It wouldn't look that bad if it wasn't for the awful tan that makes me look more like a Cheeto than anything else.
I don't know what to do to get it off, so I figure that maybe makeup will make it look better. I start to coat my face in layer upon layer of the thick lotions and powders. I line my eyes in black and make my eyelashes ridiculously long with some mascara.
I look at it and wish that I never would have done this. My parents were so right.
Except for the hair. I kinda like it. I would do that again.
I sigh and give up. I guess I'll just have to deal with it.
I don't really have anything else to do, so I go downstairs and look for my bag. I had my favorite jacket in there as well as my phone and pretty much all my important stuff. I look around for a bit before realizing that I left it at the party.
God, I don't want to go back there. But of course, if I want my stuff back, I don't really have any other options.
I once again grab my bat and head out in my high heels and sparkly, silver dress.
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I made the long trek across town at a slow and steady pace, being careful to avoid the sick. There was several people who were obviously sick and dying, but they weren't the ones I was really worried about. I was worried about the ones that I saw roaming the town who sure didn't seem to be dying. No, instead, they held out against the virus and went insane.
They tended to travel in groups, which made it easier to spot them, but nearly impossible to fight. I found that out for a fact after watching them catch a man walking out of the department store.
There was only about 10 or so in this particular group, but it didn't matter. They were on top of him in seconds. They swarmed him, blocking off every exit. They bit and clawed and scratched him, all while coughing and (must I say it?) vomiting blood on him. Even if he had escaped, he would still be dead. He was infected.
By the time I got it Jake's house it was well into the afternoon, the sun beating down on my back. Even though it was hot now, I knew that the temperature would plunge tonight and I didn't want to be around in my little dress when it did.
I crept up to the house and checked it out from behind a parked car.
Most of the windows were busted out and the door was hanging off of its hinges. There was a couple of people laying long dead in the yard that I tried to ignore.
It seemed safe enough, so I crept up to the door. I stepped inside, my heel-clad feet crunching on the broken glass that littered the floor.
I passed body after body of classmates that I vaguely remembered passing in the halls. And now they were dead.
I made it to the living room. And I mean the living room. As in the living room where I had almost hooked up with the gorgeous Spencer Stevens. As in the living room in which I had drank my first beer. As in the living room in which my best friend now lay dead.
I slowly walk up to the couch where Ru and Finn lay, still wrapped in each other's arms. Ru's head was laid on Finn's chest and their legs were all tangled up.
Ruby's gorgeous face is covered in those God awful sores. She has blood trails running from here nose and mouth and eyes. Her hair is stuck to her face and I reach down to brush it away like I have down so many times before, but I stop myself just inches from her skin.
She is sick. She is dead. If I touch her, even just a little bit, I will get sick and I will be dead.
I stand and turn away from Ruby's body and I vow to myself that I'll survive this. For her. And for Paisley. And for Mom. And for Dad. I'll fight even when I want to just curl up and never move again. And I won't get sick.
I grab my bag from the couch, ready to get out of this wretched house. The heat of these past few days has taken a toll on all the corpses in the stuffy house and the smell is awful.
Surprisingly, there isn't the drone of flies.
I guess even they know that these corpses are toxic.
I throw my bag over my shoulder and turn to leave when I hear something coming from the kitchen. And like the idiot I am, I go see what it is.
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Hola amigos!
Sorry this is so short! And beware: this has not been edited yet!
I hope you all like it! Comment, vote, and be on the lookout for the next chapter!
Love you! ~Maddie💜💋
