Book 1 - Slit My Wrist, Hope to Die

Chapter 8 - Nick/Fran

"Hey, Nick." Fran asked.

"Yeah?" Nick asked.

"Do you believe in aliens?"

"Yeah. It's cool to think about." Nick jumped off his bed. "Come on, we got to go to a wedding, babe."

"Okay, honey."

"Will the 'red necks' be there?"

"Sadly, yeah."

"I wish a plague came and wiped them out. They are so rude to your mother."

"Yeah. I know." He chuckled at a thought. "Maybe a zombie plague"

"If only this world had diseases, right?"

                  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

      Their view from his 45th floor penthouse was a breath taker. Nick didn't dare to leave his house for another. The recent divorce between his mother and father made his choice difficult. His mother tried to take him with her out of New York, but her car crash two weeks before paused her plans. This made Nick happy rather than sad; his fights with his mother stopped and he doesn't get to leave the view. Today, he wished his mother took him.

           The view used to be skyscrapers countering each other making it them all look like a curving hills. That's if you looked ahead. If you looked down, you can see cars racing pass each other and neatly dressed, retro, punk scene and more on the streets walking along with their own business to handle. The stores and buildings lit up at night and it would shine through his curtains and light up the end of his bed. He could see dust fairies fly slowly and loved it.

        The view now is burning cars, blood sprayed on the building windows, bodies falling out of those windows. The floor were crawling with people who were bloody who started eating everyone else for no reason whatsoever. Nick thinks the cult the news were mentioning was actually territory and hey finally started their attack. Then again, guns would make more sense. The crawling dead weren't he only things down there: people half eaten all over streets and cars. Blood was spraying everywhere and the screams of the poor sane people made Nick want to cry for years to come. He looked over at his girlfriend who stayed the night. He snuck her in without waking his parents up and they slept together; not sex wise, but cuddling only. His girlfriend, Fran who he calls Franny at times, was still asleep.

         He stared at her with the horrific look he had gotten from the view outside. His emotions were dancing all around and he didn't know which one was trying to stand out most. Then, it faded it away. He admired her long, straight black hair covering her jawbo outline. Her eyelashes were naturally thick so it made it look like she was wearing eyeliner. Nick loved her dark brown eyes and when she said it was common he would say "But they aren't yours." He adored the fourteen year old that was 5'2 while he was at 5'6. Then the emotions flew back in and he knew what was going to happen if they stayed but he was too scared to even think about leaving.

"Hey," he quietly called out. "Wake up. Please." He shook her gently.

A sudden quick breath was taken by Fran. "Huh?" She rubbed her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Uh," Nick hesitated. He quickly closed the curtains and laid beside her. "Nothing. I just wanted to say good morning."

"Oh, you douche." Fran rolled over to look at him. "Good morning, but I was having a good sleep."

"I'm sorry. Go back to sleep."

"Thanks. Goodnight again." Fran attached herself to Nick and closed her eyes.