Better Dead Than A Zed

Chapter 1

The light snuck through the blinds, like a snake sliding through the grass, over my covers and the sheets in strips of illuminating sun rays. The covers shift and a cool breeze enters my igloo of warmth, causing me to blink my eyes open.

I squinted and pushed my self off my chest, sitting Indian style with the blanket wrapped around my legs. I scratched the back of my head, feeling my fingers run over every small spike of each hair.

The room was small. It made me feel small. Almost suffocating, almost claustrophobic, almost...intoxicating. The window was a large window that took up most of the eastern wall where my bed rested against. The shelves held the novels I had sped through with the occasional action figure sitting on one of the pieces of literature. Almost like protectors of the art, instead of the Ark. An army man with a broken leg sat on one of the books I'd received for Christmas last year.

He was one of my favorites because he could still balance with only one leg, and didn't need to lean against anyone or anything to do that.

My eyes had adjusted enough to where I could see my window without being completely blinded by the sun.

Red.

A streak of a dark colored red pooled in the street. A man was lying next to it, his side torn open and the intestines pouring out...I gagged. I covered my mouth and tried not to heave hard enough to break a rib.

What the serious hell...?

I blinked some more and scooted to the edge of my bed. I unplugged my phone and shoved it into the pocket of my shorts. I pulled on a tank top and opened my door, rushing to mom's room.

The hallway was dark and I flicked the switch, feeling a cold liquid soak into my sock before the light showed me the floor. I stumbled back and slipped, landing hard on my ass.

The tile floor in front of me was covered in streaks and spots of blood. By the dark color and the copper smell...it was blood. I sat in horror and peeked farther down the hall. The doors were open and a shadow covered the floor. I peeled off the sock and tried my best to avoid the blood, making my way down to my parents room. It was dark, an ominous feeling swam up my spine and I shivered.

The shadow was laying across the doorway, and I stepped foward slowly. The silence spoke in whispers behind my shoulders. The cold tile chilled me from my toes up to my ears. I stopped. I stood three feet from the shadow and I could smell it.

That smell, like decay, like death. I held my shirt over my nose and took small breaths. The thoughts in my head told me to run, but my legs were paralyzed. I wanted to turn around, heave the contents of my stomach, and wake up from this dream.

Nightmare.

A nightmare is what I was having.

I convinced myself slowly and then I agreed completely, Demi, you're having a nightmare. Gosh, you loser. Just go back to sleep. I think Mom was going to make pancakes in the morning. Plus you have- my thoughts of tomorrow were interrupted and I saw the figure on the floor shift. Move. Groan. I pulled my hands in front of me, protecting my face.

Wake up, wake up.

Wake the fuck up.

I squeezed my eyes shut and ground my teeth. My legs wobbled a bit and I gripped fists in front of my face as I heard the figure slowly pull itself off the floor.

I heard the breath. The slow, ragged breathing in effort to move. It came closer. It came faster.

It was right in my ear and the warm, moist breath made goosebumps rise on my skin. I squeezed my fists tighter and my eyes felt as though they would explode from pressure. It made a noise, an almost rumbling in its throat and wet goo spilled onto my wrists.