Infectious

Frenemies

The picture I uploaded is of the old lady :)

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I take a shaky step away from the usually docile looking woman and try to mask my fear.

"I understand why you want to finish them," I tell the elderly woman. I make the mistake of letting my lip quiver for mere seconds. She gives me a blank stare.

"I thought I was the only one looking for redemption!" she tells me in a relieved tone. I manage to regain my composure as she leans over and hugs me. I feel as though my lies are radiating from my body and she can feel their presence, but maybe that's just paranoia. She releases me from her tight grasp and hobbles away. I'm frozen in fear and I know that if I move I'll simply break, shattering to the floor. My mother peeks her head out from the kitchen door.

"Are you coming?" she inquires. I momentarily stare at the door the flowery woman left from and turn my gaze to my mom.

"Ya, I'm coming," I reassure her. She gives me a torn smile and retreats behind the door. The plane of my life is slowly spiralling downwards.

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I smack Riley's hand and he chuckles.

"That's not fair!" I exclaim as we play thumb war.

"Yes it is, there's no law against it!" he attempts defending himself, opening his palm again which gives him an unfair advantage. I release my hand from his tight grasp and press down on his thumb with my index finger.

"Hey!" he protests as his eyes go wide in surprise.

"There's no law against it!" I wittily respond. He smiles a sly smile.

"Touché," he says, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb.

"Thanks for keeping me company on my day off!" I say as I stare at our interlocked fingers.

"Of course," he says, pulling me closer to him by the waist. I shimmy to fit into all the perfect curves of his body. I put a hand on his chest and lean my head on it also. His chest rises and falls at a rhythmic beat and his blood pumps through his soft heart. The storage room has the aroma of antique objects which is an old, timeless, homey scent. It joyously reminds me of my great grandmother's apartment.
I get off of Riley's lap and gradually make my way down the numerous aisles of forgotten objects full of memories. I find a jewelry box full of ancient jewelry. One pendant has a charm shaped like a key with the words 'until death' encrusted in the silver. I hear the dreamy strum of a guitar and glance up to see Riley with a beautifully crafted wooden guitar. A smile spreads itself on my face and I put aside the smooth, wooden box and close my eyes, enjoying the mesmerizing sound of the beautiful instrument.

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I continue scrubbing at the food crusted plate as though its the hardest task in the world.

"Hey," I hear a docile voice say. I glance behind me and notice Mia leaning on the door frame of the kitchen. She's wearing a flower printed mini skirt and a salmon pink shirt. Her hair contrasts against the bright colours.

"Hey," I greet her. Awkward silence hangs in the air like rain before a storm that threatens to drown us in our sorrows. She clears her throat which makes everything a little more uncomfortable.

"What have you been up to?" she inquires. I peel the rubber cleaning gloves off of my sweaty hands and toss them onto the counter. I turn around and lean my back against the marble counter.

"You mean since our argument?" I ask and a look of guilt shadows her face.

"Well, I've been teaching this new girl named Fiona how to shoot, I found out there's a woman who's out to get me, and I've started a shooting class. What about you?" I inquire.

"Same old, same old, Tom and I went on a special little date on the rooftop and then I did an inventory of all our food," she tells me. I purse my lips as though I'm thinking hard about what she's just said and snap the rubber gloves back onto my hands. I finish washing the plate and dry it, putting it onto the rack with the rest of the clean kitchenware and wash my hands.

"I'm sorry that I said what I said," she apologizes.

"That's wonderful," I tell her as I spin around to look her in the eyes, "but you can't just put things back together with two simple words, Mia."

"I know, but consider my apology. I miss my best friend. I miss painting each others nails, doing each others hair, and gossiping about hot celebrities," she admits. She bites her lip in frustration, thinking about her carefully chosen words.

"ARE YOU JOKING?" I snap which makes her shrink.

"You're living in your little fantasy world while the rest of us are trying not to be eaten alive! The little high school, girly things don't matter anymore! While you choose the right colour to paint your nails, and which table cloth is better for your date I'm teaching kids how to shoot guns!" I exclaim. She stares at me with a shocked expression yet she's speechless because she knows I'm right. I stare at the door, hoping someone will walk in before I can finish speaking the full truth.

"And I'm not the girl I used to be Mia. My idea of fun once upon a time was painting my nails and reading Seventeen but now... my idea of fun now is cooking because its the easiest thing to do or spending a minute with my family because every moment is a precious one," I tell her. She stares at me and begins to lightly cry, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I didn't ask for this, Raine. All I wanted was to graduate high school and go to New York. I just like being with you because you bring a sense of reality and once in a while a little bit of fantasy into my life," she says. My heart beat begins to slow from a racing to a normal pounding and I begin to calm down.

"I have an appointment," I say then speed out the kitchen door.

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I run up to a woman, gun hitting my shoulder as I dash across the concrete of the rooftop. I rapidly tap on her shoulder and she turns around, surprise flashing across her face.

"I'm here to relieve you," I pant, "of your post," I say in an out of breath tone. She gives me a heartwarming smile and heads for the walkway that leads back to the main building. This is just a lookout point. The building is empty and useless, crumbling and decaying.

"So why'd you come out here today? Things aren't good in the main office?" someone cuts off my train of thought. I glance to the side and find Arianne bedside me.

"No I was just tired of getting-" I'm cut off by the large sound of booming. Arianne and I both whip out our guns. A far off column of smoke is beginning to rise like the long, thin line of grey smoke from an old pipe. I hear a few shouts, familiar and foreign. I feel a strange, warm feeling from my shoulder to my chest. I realize that I've smeared blood from my chest to my shoulder but I can't tell where the wound is. My body is numb and it's like I can't even feel the pain. I've tuned out my own screaming and sit on the floor. Hot tears sting my ice cold cheeks. This is it. I'm gonna die. Everything is fuzzy and black at the edges and the world is spinning. What a heroic way to die, the leader defending the colony. I swear that I'm smiling yet I'm too unaware to tell. That's when blackness consumes my vision.