Insomnia

Chapter 20: Transmissions

(AN: lol, I don't know why I'm even dedicating this to you, my friend.  I guess it's because I'm grateful that your actually the first dude who's appreciated Insomnia back in the classroom, so thanks, :DD)

We were in the guest room, unsettled and yes, a little jumpy.

Kit Kat was now awake, and we were gathering in the only room that had a TV, aside of course from our living room, and if your asking why we are watching TV in the guestroom, well, it's just that we didn't want to risk our lives watching the news at the living room with those monsters walking aimlessly around us, mindless with the fact that we were inside this house, taking advantage with the solace it provided.

Oh, and if your wondering about how we can turn on the TV without electricity, well, problem solved for us since we have a generator that we usually use when there are brown outs, but just like every generator, the power supply it gives out does not last forever.  It has to recharge and we'll have to settle in the darkness once more.  But right now, I guess it won't be wrong to use it to gather info for the time being, right?

We huddled in each others warmth, the comforter draping our shoulders, which provided enough body heat to share with the bitter cold temperature outside our house. 

Kit Kat was at the center, and us boys at both of her sides.  We scooted in closer, arms draping and bodies intertwining, we all were anticipating what all the news had to say.  Besides, a week has just gone with this effing zombie infection.  And we didn't really have a clue with what's happening...so, the reason why were all in front of the television screen, our faces plastered to it, is because we turned it on the lowest volume possible.  I guess taking chances are one of the things we wouldn't risk in a hundred years.

I swallowed, preparing my ears for the worst to come, "Okay," I breathed in, "I'll be turning the TV on now, hopefully, there would still be some kind of channel for us, that's...still available." I said, reaching out, and as if in slow motion, I turned it on, and then I settled back, hoping that Kit Kat's warmth would be enough for me to keep sane through whatever bad thing the news has to say.

And luckily enough for us, by the time I sat down with them again, the channel we picked up from was on live.

I held my breath.

A man, no, the right word for him would be, the boy.  The boy was on the ground, crouching.  The place was dimly lit, and the lights were flickering, it instantly reminded me of a horror movie.  He grimaced, pulled himself to a sit, and breathed in deep.  My eyebrows raised when I saw the obvious mark of a bite from those monsters.

The boy, I've noticed, was around the age of adolescence, like 15-18.  Wow, he's just as old as me.  He had thick round eye glasses on.  He had dark curly hair and the stance of a typical nerd.  I'm even guessing that if we'd meet face to face, he'd be tall and lanky, a dude who always kept his nose to a book to help kill time.

He smiled, his lips quivering.  "Hey, things haven't been improving for me over here-" What sounded like the pounding on the doors to that place cut him.  He then looked at the camera warily.  "I have been here for 3 days straight, and as you can see, my wound doesn't look too good either." He coughed, now looking at a piece of paper that he was holding.  "But anyway, for any of you guys who are watching this," He flinched when the sound of some glass that was breaking filled the place with that evident emotion that sent those knives back into my skin.  Fear, yes, that was what was in his eyes.  He was afraid, and he normally didn't know what he could do in his unfortunate situation.

I felt Kit Kat's hands clutch mine in a vise like grip, her body trembled and I knew she was stopping herself from whimpering.  I patted her hand, knowing how she felt.  The man in the screen was dying, or probably in the process of turning into those zombies, and here we were, untouched and almost better, just watching him, and that knowledge tortured us.  We couldn't do anything to help him, and that was the plain truth of it all.