I wake, startled into a sitting position by a blood curdling scream. I look around quickly but then realize it was me who had screamed. The nightmares haven't stopped since the accident with her. I know that if I even think her name... I can’t… I won't ...
I groan and reach over to my right for the nightstand which my watch is on. It reads 6:00am, groaning again I roll to my left on the black and white, checkerboard style, queen sized mattress. Last night it wasn't till ten o’clock that I finally decided that I need to get some rest. So I stopped in Nickerson, Kansas and found a little brown and white house that didn't have any monstrous things in it.
It wouldn't of been a problem even if there was one in here because I know how to handle them, but I figured it would be easier if I didn't find any. They can and have destroyed states, countries. Scaring everyone away or eating and turning them to the point where there is no more of us humans, mainly the latter though.
I only know of me and her surviving for a long time. Now that she is gone and I'm alone. I have been alone most of my life though. No one at school really noticed me and I only had my mom and dad and uncle, for a while anyways, but no friends or boyfriends. I got use to it after fifth grade. Then she found me at the beginning of all this mayhem and helped me. She told me secrets about my parents. I thought they were lies at first. She told me where I could reunite with them. Now I don't even have her or my parents. No one but my lonesome self.
Welp, I better get moving or I will never make it to Penalosa tonight, I think to myself. As I sit up I scope out the master bedroom I stayed in overnight, for any danger, a small but necessary habit I have picked up over the past few months. The room has plain white walls, two doors, one leading to the rest of the house and the other leading to the master bathroom. Then there is the nightstand next to the queen bed which I currently occupy. The bed has a black and white checkered quilt and one white and one black pillow. Unfortunately there wasn't any sheets but I'm not one for much comfort. I've been through worse.
Once I'm done checking the room, I get up and put on my black tank top and my blue skinny jeans that have holes in the knees. I find my knee high black boots by the door that leads to the hallway and lace them up my leg within a few seconds. My backpack, only half full of canned food, bread, water bottles, a few spare clothes, tennis shoes, and my sword is by the master bathroom door. As I bend down I realize the door is open just a tiny crack. I see a little sliver of a big mirror but in the reflection of the mirror is what catches my eye. There looks to be a body hunched over by a bath tub. I slowly open the door watching the dark figure in the mirror for movement. It shifts a little, so I swing the door open quickly and look where the thing should be. But it's gone, there's nothing there. I look behind the shower curtain but it's empty.I quickly search the big bathroom but there is no windows. Great now on top of everything else, I'm going crazy, I think to myself.
As I start to walk out I catch a glimpse of my reflection. I look wild. My hair is in a long messy blonde braid that goes down to my waist. My pupils are dilated widely and my cheeks are shallow, defining my cheek bones even more. I look at my reflection for a few more seconds, just taking how much I’ve changed. Then I walk out of the bathroom, grab my backpack by the door and leave the house.
****
My feet hurt as they shuffle a few more steps to reach a wooden bench right outside of Partridge. I take off my backpack, toss it to the side and sit down. Then I take off my boots to rub the heel and toes of my foot. As I look around I notice how the road I’m on leads straight to the highway. I’m pretty sure that if I head west on that highway I can hit Langdon and be in Penalosa in about six-seven hours. While I think of the route I’m gonna take it reminds me of how good I am with maps. My history teacher, Mr. Clank, use to love that about me. I wonder if he made it through this chaos, if maybe he’s still alive. Probably not because he was kinda soft and if anyone in his family got bit he is more than likely dead.
I unzip my pack and grab my third water bottle being careful of the unsheathed sword my uncle bought me when I was twelve. So I continue down the road taking greedy gulps out of the water bottle. I look down at my watch and it reads 12:28pm. I need to move quicker. When I find a decent looking house, I walk around to the back yard looking for any sort of object with wheels, while also putting the cap on the water bottle and shoving it into the drink holder on the side of my back pack. I search the entire yard and a little wooden shed, I start to walk back towards the road when suddenly I trip over something in the tall grass.I take a few clumsy steps to balance myself out again, then I look down and see a bicycle lying on the ground covered in overgrown weeds. Well it’s no car but it’s better than nothing. Now let’s see if it’s actually functioning, it’s hot pink with charcoal black designs on it making the bike look sorta retro. I pick the bike up by the handlebars, hearing the grass and weeds tangled around it, rip from their roots. The gauges on each handlebar clarify that it is a mountain bike so it will be good for the trip.
I check the chains and everything seems to be in it’s place and not in bad shape, then I brush off as much dirt and weeds I can. As I head off the road and onto the highway, I jump onto the bike and I do the calculations of my trip in my head. I think I should be in Langdon in about an hour at the minimum. I pump the pedals a little harder, willing strength into my spine, my legs starting to burn. Flashes of memories come at me like a dog chasing a squirrel up a tree.
I hear her screams echo off the small, one story building walls in the small town. I will more strength to my legs but they are already burning from running. We split up to find more food and cover more ground, then she blew her safety whistle I found for her. After the whistle went silent I tried finding her by heading the way I heard the shrilling ring come from, then she started screaming. I have never fully understood the phrase “screaming bloody murder” until I heard those screams coming from her. I tried yelling her name over and over but once I arrived at where she lay on the blood covered ground and realized that I was already too late…
A tear dares to escape the corner of my eye but I push the thought out of my head, wiping the tear away, and locking the memories behind a door where they only come out in my nightmares.
(To be continued.)
