Conflict ☾C.G

❥Coke

"Fuck" I hissed in pain as my boot collided with the hard, metal side of the vending machine. My throat was parched and although I had two full water canisters in my backpack and a flask of vodka, I had my heart set on a bottle of coke. The thought was in my head that if I tasted something familiar then maybe the world would suddenly fall back to how it used to be. Or in my mind, at least.

I huffed and sat down in front of the glass casing, considering my limited options of getting it open. Maybe I could shoot it to break the glass? I thought to myself. No, Aurora. Don't be stupid. It'll attract walkers and losing a bullet isn't worth it.

I scooted closer to the glass, noticing a dim reflection. In it I saw a girl, hair black as night with eyes a deep shade of blue. freckles spotted around her nose and forehead, smudged over with grime and mud. These were the only reminders that I was myself. Everything else about me has adapted to suit this new world. I am stronger and more built, strapped in weaponry, I hardly read or draw anymore- I don't have time when I'm running for my life. And I happen to be a few years older – now 16.

My shitty underage tattoos still wouldn't be legal in the old world, but that era is over. I hated who this world forced me to become. It forced me to kill, dead or living. Death was the only thing on my mind nowadays, apart from maybe a bottle of coke and my father. I was the only one who knew that with every kill, it was me who died a little on the inside. I didn't feel any remorse for the walkers, but every life is precious and I've unfortunately had to end one too many of them.

I lifted my hand to my reflection and my dirty fingers traced my outline delicately. I pressed against the glass, aimlessly dragging my hand down until I suddenly feel a cool metal flap. I let out a gasp at how clueless I had been to not just slip my hand up the shoot and grab the bottle. Which is exactly what I did. I twisted off the cap, awaiting the fizzing sound that never came. With disappointment, I lifted the warm bottle of flat and probably off coke to my lips and started guzzling it down.

//

"Aurora! Come out back here!" my father yelled. I stood up from my desk where I was finishing my drawing and pattered my little feet over to my dad's office.

"Yes daddy?" I said lovingly, sitting on my father's lap. He started rummaging through his draws with one hand, the other securing me safely in a hug. He pulled out an old blue case with earphones plugged into it.

"This is a Walkman, Rory. I grew up with one, and I would like to give mine to you. Your older sister has made a mix that she thinks you'll like when you're her age, and I have put together a few with music from when I was about 17 years old that I think you'll like."

I stared up at my father with admiration before wrapping my chubby little arms around his neck in the best hug I could offer.

"I know people give you a shitfest sometimes, and this can be your way to escape it." My father whispered to me. He was never one to dance around with language. If he wanted to say something, he would. Its grew on me as I got older and now I'm stuck with his somewhat bad habit of not keeping my mouth shut.

"Thankyou daddy. I'll keep it forever and ever" I whispered back.

"I know you will, my girl" he said before putting the headphones on me and clipping the Walkman onto my pajama shorts, taking a swig of his coke.

//

"Not as satisfying as I had hoped, but still worth it," I had muttered to myself, staring at the empty bottle. Memories of my father variate between joyous and dismal. Before this world, he was a thoughtful, wise and kind man. But this world changed my father like it changed me. It made us cold. Ruthless. Alone.

I took my Walkman out of my backpack and put in one of the mixes that my father had made for me. The the songs on my sisters mix are lively and upbeat, and remind me too much of her. They fill me with rage and loathing, so I only listen to it when I'm killing in order to fuel my fury and pump my adrenaline. I usually opt for my dad's music, because it gives me hope. I know he's still out there. It doesn't make me furious or depressed, unlike my sisters. These mixes are what give me power to defeat this world, and hope for the next.

-

Hello glorious people, this is my new fanfiction called Conflict. Just letting you know that Carl poppa will make an appearance in a chapter or two. I don't know yet. Ill decide when I write it. Anyways, please vote and comment and give me feedback whether it be good or bad because I am completely open to suggestion.

Ps. The photo at the top is what I envision Aurora to wear. Lil bit hot and totally badass.

All the love, angels

-