Harper Nelson knew a thing or two about troubles, that was plain for anyone to see. The niece of a big time gang banger, the drug and murder scene was nothing unfamiliar to her. Drive bys, robberies, cocaine overdoses, murder cases gone cold, these were things she was all too familiar with before the age of 12. Her dear old dad was one of these cold cases, never solved, no witnesses they said, no proof of foul play. There was one witness though, one person present as her uncle shot him between the eyes. "One thing you'll never get away with in this family, and make no mistake, we ARE a family, is double crossing us. All secrets come into the light eventually, if they don't bite you, first, that is," he had said, kneeling down in front of a young Harper, barely 15 at the time. She could swear she could still smell the Cuban cigar that hung from the corner of his mouth, see the thin trail of smoke as it floated towards the roof even now, five years later. That's what goes through her mind as she crosses the threshold into 'Archibald sanatorium'. Once a large, beautifully coloured building, back before the plague, was now a lifeless shell of the former insane asylum. Crumbling in on itself in many places, the paint chipping away to reveal the drab, concrete building beneath. It once housed the screams and groans of many who had lost their mind, and many nurses and doctors with bright smiles but weary eyes, promising to "fix them up in a jiff, their minds will be right in no time" now only had two residents. If one cared to venture in far enough, they would have found a huge, reinforced steel door, with more locks than you would think possible. This is where Harper finds herself, staring at it, trying to muster up the courage to go in. 234 times. That's how many times Harper found herself doing just this. That's how many time she found herself unlocking every lock, glancing over her shoulder to be sure she was alone, (she always was). 234, now 235, actually, times she had pushed open the heavy door, immediately met with inhuman growls and groans, and the rattling of chains. To anyone else, all there was to see was an empty room, save for the two animated corpses chained to the opposite wall. Zombies, they were called when the plague first began. And perhaps that's what they were, mindless corpses, reduced to nothing more than flesh eating monsters. But beneath the matted blonde hair and the milky eyes that were once a brilliant, soul sucking shade of brown, Harper saw the woman who had once raised her, who tried to shelter her from the horrors the world had to offer. She still saw the woman who took countless beatings when she refused to allow her eldest daughter be raised as a "savage gang banger" like her "useless father". She still saw the woman who hummed the words to "a spoonful of sugar" as she cooked pancakes on a Sunday morning, when she was allowed to have some alone time with her "pride and joy" as her wet, curly hair shined under the summer sun that filtered in through the window, a leftover bruise fading from her left cheek. And in the other, she still saw a little girl, laughing hysterically and begging to be pushed higher on the playground swing. She still saw her twirl around in her ballerina dress, "Play dress up with me sissy! You can be a pretty princess too! Daddy says we can be anything we want to!" She could still feel her climbing in the bed with her, well into the night, snuggling close under her older sisters arms and cover her ears. "Why is daddy screaming at mommy? It's scary," she would say through tear filled eyes, choking back a sob. Never knowing what to say, Harper would just pretend to sleep, but still pull her baby sister a little closer, praying that the small girl would drift to sleep quickly. These are the memories that she would whisper to the shells of the two people she loved the most, three times a week, shortly after noon when she would visit them. Sometimes, she could swear she saw a flicker of recognition behind her mothers eyes as she recited the song lyrics her mother used to hum, and it was in those moments that she knew they were still in there, somewhere, hidden behind the shambling, chained up corpses in front of her. When she would toss them raw chunks of meat (animal, of course, Harper Nelson was many things, but monster was not one of them) she would turn away as they tore into them with rotting teeth, tearing away with a greed only creatures like them could understand, and remind them of the pancakes, and big macs on the days Daddy was nice and took them to McDonalds on a rare family day. Or the juicy steaks Momma would cook for them on an even rarer occasion. When they would finish and begin groaning, begging for more, I'm sure should would find could she speak zombie, she would tell them about her week. The animals she saw, the things she found in abandoned stores, the teddy bear that reminded her of the one she gave her sister for her birthday the year she turned six. She would then promise them that she would return again in a couple days, after she found more food. She would remind them of the rumored cure, and give them the empty promise that one day soon, they would be cured and they could begin a new life for themselves, one that didn't involve gangs or murder, lies and pain and sorry excuses for friends and family. Then she would turn and leave, wiping tears from her eyes and she locked the last of the locks. But tonight, as she looks her Mother in the eyes one last time before she goes, she reaches out to caress her cheek, promising she would love them both forever, no matter what. Oddly enough, it come as a shock to her when her Mother sunk her teeth into Harpers wrist, such a surprise that she couldn't even scream out in pain. That shock faded quickly though, as she found she now sported a gaping hole in her arm, of which was now being chewed on by her Mother. The pain she felt was no doubt indescribable as she fell to the ground, both the women in her life now tearing into her as if she were a juicy steak from their past. Of all the things, all the memories she could return to in her final moments, it's her uncles words that float back to her now. "All secrets come into the light eventually, if they don't bite you first, that is," are the words that ring loudly in her ears as she fades out of consciousness. Maybe she belonged in the asylum too, maybe it's fitting that that is where she took her final breath, because she found a laugh bubbling to her lips, because even in death, even Harper could see the irony in that.
