The sound of a gun, the feeling of pain, and the weight of loss filled the heavy air. It was over, a day that should have never started.
Nine years after the stand off in the hallway Beth awakens from a coma and is shocked to find out she is still...
You ever have that dream, where you're little and you're outside with a smile wider than your face? Where it's home again, and the tall green grass is blowing in the wind and mama's milking the cow. Where daddy is tending to the fields and you just take it all in with one big breath. Maybe you're dancing on the front porch. Or maybe you're hopping from one hay bale to the next, daring your sister you can make it until that time you fall and break your collarbone. Back when someone died...and they stayed dead. When you still had you're innocence. When you're life was...lighter. When butterflies stillpassedthrough the sky and music boxes still had music to play...
Dreaming was something fond, something your mind created in the abyss of sleep. Something that could still be beautiful regardless of what was waiting for you when you woke up. Even a fractured heart could dream. It was the dreaming that kept her occupied, brought her mind through the passing hours as the darkness ate everything light. Entertained and tickled her thoughts while she, well while she waited to die. Waited to see the light, to see daddy standing tall on two legs with an arm extended out for her. It was a peaceful thought, the idea of death. Hell the worse part was already over.
This is it. The feeling of escape flooded her senses as she felt her body release itself into the world. It was graceful, almost euphoric, until the aching began. Every muscle groaned and pulled, a throbbing she already grew tired of almost immediately.
Beep...beep...beep.
The sound of a monitor punctured her ear drums while her tounge danced in her mouth, feeling the dry intake of stale air.
Was this heaven?
Then pinching, shivering, all her muscles were awakening and she didn't know if this was good or bad. Was she a walker? The blow to her head seemed like killing two birds with one shot. This way no one would have to suffer the pain of making sure she didn't reanimate. Was this hell? What had she done to deserve being punished for all eternity? It was her wrists, back on the farm, that's what done it. Was being a walker punishment? Was God mad at her? Why did I stab her...why...
Beep...beep...beep.
No, that was a monitor...Open your eyes...just try...you can...do it...
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Beth talked herself up, struggling to feel her muscles in order to open her eyes, and finally she did. If this was death, if walkers still had their own thoughts running through their rotting heads and they could think, well that changed things. Blinding light attacked as she parted her lids, florescent shine impaling her corneas. The room smelled...clean...familiar. As her eyes adjusted she pictured her hands, thought about moving her fingers, stretching them out, then she felt the flex of her fingers, feeling them moved beside her thighs. The room began to come into focus and as it did Beth soon realized she was indeed in hell.
