why do men EVER EVER think it’s funny to make a joke with the word rape in it…hmm?
unless you’re advocating for the DON’T RAPE groups and other anti-rape organizations please do not fucking talk about rape.
it’s not something to be taken as a joke. goodbye
Tap. Tap. Tapping.
On my pencil with my white acrylic nails,
I stare disdainfully at the pasty yellow chalk across the room.
It stares back at me.
Ominous shutting of doors reverberates in my ears behind me.
Sometimes I really hate School.
My pencil shakes in my hand.
My intestines grumble in response.
I look towards my water in despair.
I know it won’t quench my hunger.
I try to sleep but I can’t.
The Sandman has not yet arrived to sprinkle any grains under my eyelids for years.
When my body goes into a slumber, it is riddled with nightmares and anxiety.
I wake up with a cold sweat, scared.
I try to sleep but I can’t.
The nice Dr. prescribed me these magic blue pills to lure the Sandman into my room.
I’m guessing he comes and rubs sand into my eyes, for cheating my way into sleep.
I still have nightmares and anxiety.
Gemini: Quick on the uptake, they remember jokes really well and can laugh at just about anything, This sign is most prone to making fun of someone, but not in a mean way, it’s usually because they’re interested.
“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” I yell, staring into the open barrel of a gun, pointing directly at my forehead. I scramble to my feet meeting the cold grey gaze of Avery. Avery! “Avery!” I rush forward to embrace her. “Stop.” The gun still pointing towards my face. “What are you doing in here? Have you been bit by those things?” her mouth contorts into one of disgust. She backs away, hereyes narrowing. Her finger on the trigger, unwavering. I thought you were dead. “Avery, I’m fine.” I whisper back to her, raising my hands up pleading, “Please, lets just leave.”
“I came to get food, is there any here?” Avery scans the grocery store I was taking refuge in, she peeks over bins and reaches over aisles. “Yes, not a lot but some. I’ll help you get whatever is here lets just go” I answer.
I am glad to see her again. Perhaps not under these circumstances. Not with this plague. Or whatever this is. I begin to fill up black plastic bags with cans of food, tomato soup, beans, peas, anything I could find. I am scared we will not be finished before night and I start to get anxious. Especially since I lost my gun to those travelers and we only have Avery’s gun to protect ourselves. I have been harboring in this grocery store ever since they took all my equipment a few months back.
“Let’s go.” Avery says, she jams the gun into a holster on her belt. Swinging one of the black bags in one swift movement she brings it over her shoulder, next to her black hair. “I have a Jeep out front,” she says, flashing a white smile. “My car got stolen,” I mutter bitterly.“Well, thank god I came along,” she murmurs with a twisted smile, letting out a high laugh.
I follow her to a black Jeep that looks almost new. I wonder where she got it from. “Are you with anyone?” The question bursts out of my lips before I could think twice about asking it. She turns around. Her charcoal glossy hair falls over her shoulders as she stares intently at me. She bites her rosy lips, as if in deep thought. “Just my brother. Always my brother.” I remember him. He was only two years younger than her. They are close. “Why isn’t he with you?” I asked.
“He’s looking for food in a different location, now stop asking me questions. Save those for later. Let’s go.” Her playfulness is gone. She has a stern look on her face, her black brows furrow together. She looks at the sky aware of the time. Aware that it is getting late and the dead things will be out soon. She loads the Jeep and unlocks the passenger door for me. She starts driving and I catch a glimpse of myself in the sideview mirror. Brown curly locks threaten to burst into an unruly mess at the baseline of my temples. Wow, I need a fucking haircut. That’s what I need. I run both of my hands through my messy set of curls in a crude attempt to fix them.
“You also need to shave.” Avery’s voice disrupts my intense fixation on my hair.
“Yes well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” I say moodily and cross my arms trying to look displeased with her comment. “I have razors, and scissors at the clinic we’re staying at,” She says, eyeing me playfully once again, “As well as a mirror so you don’t hurt yourself.”
“Razor’s and scissor’s aren’t what I’m worried about.” I sigh bitterly.
“We’re almost there!” she exclaims, with an excited look on her face. “You said a clinic right? Is it safe?” I asked cautiously. “At first my brother and I thought we might board up a hospital, but hospitals are too big.” She drums her fingers on the steering wheel, “So instead we found a clinic, it is smaller and there are still beds in there and supplies just in case one of us gets injured, very practical.” She looks at me, her molten grey eyes burning into mine.
I look at the freckles on her nose, lightly spotting the ridges and settling on the front of her cheeks. I thought she was dead. I had to stop looking for you. “We’re here.” She says.
The car jumps to a halt as she puts the car in park and pulls the key out of the ignition. I look towards the direction that she is looking at but I do not see anything, just a gravelly road.
“Where, where is it Avery?” I quiver, my fear getting the best of me. It was getting late.
“Don’t worry we’re walking there. We don’t leave a trail, c’mon.” She signals for me to grab a bag and follow her.
I follow her down the road, taking in my surroundings, a few trees, no cars, a completely desolate area. No sign of those things. “Where’s your brother’s car? Why wasn’t it there?” She turns around again, her eyes narrow completely and she places a hand on my mouth, “Please Nate, shut up,” her mouth goes into a straight line. I stay silent. My hands shake and the cans start to rattle inside of the plastic bags that I am holding. Fuck, keep cool.
I grip them tighter, my knuckles turn a searing pale white on the edges. “Let’s keep going,” I say cooly.
I walk behind her and watch her shoulders tense up. I know something is wrong but I do not ask her anything. I know it will agitate her. We walk for another minute and I see the clinic. The windows are boarded up poorly from the outside, I can probably fix that. There are two doors at the very front, they seem to be made out of some kind of steel or hard metal material. There is a latch across the handles of the doors with a lock on them. Avery gently puts the bag on the floor takes the lock off of the latch. With a low squeaking sound she pulls open the doors. I step into a small waiting room, the carpeting is rugged and peeling off and there are small chairs on the side of the wall. This was probably a children’s clinic. I shudder. Avery is already heading off into one of the rooms, I did not notice she had locked the doors or anything. I see her hunched over a bed in one of the rooms. I hear a crackling noise from a radio but I cannot see where it is coming from.
“Sam, Sam where are you?” She asks in a shaky voice. “It’s getting dark, please come back.” Her hands are trembling, and I notice she is holding a small radio. “I use it to contact my brother when I get back.” She explains, not letting me ask questions. “He is usually here way ahead of me, so you can understand why I am worried.” She turned to look at me. Her grey eyes glossed over by a sheer red of veins, and tears on the verge of spilling over her lower eyelids. I place my hands on her shoulders and just look at her worried face. We are interrupted by three loud knocks on the door. “That’s him!” She shouts, her eyes brighten up and she pushes past me running to the doors. I look at the bed in front of me and see the gun laying on it next to the small radio. I grab it, and and walk out behind Avery. I see her looking through a makeshift window on the door. “Sam?” She repeats over and over. I hear a groan. “You’re hurt!” She cries, and tells him to unlock the door. He whispers something that I cannot hear and she turns and runs to another room. I hear a loud noise, followed by a breaking of wood. I hear muffled cries right outside of the door and I tighten my grip on the gun. The door opens and I see that there is not much light outside anymore. Avery comes in with Sam. His chestnut hair is matted down by sweat and his face is pale, he looks up at me his green eyes bloodshot and glassy. “Nathan?” he groans. “Sam please, you’re hurt. Be quiet,” Avery says, grabbing his long arm and draping it over her shoulder. She takes him into one of the rooms. I follow them. Avery has Sam stretched out on a bed that is too small for him. His arms hang limply on the sides and I see a bite on his ankle. Avery is rolling up his jeans, and she looks up at me with fear in her eyes. “Nate what the fuck do I do?!” she yells, her eyes swelling up with tears.
Fuck. How do I tell her that she has to kill her own brother? How? “Avery, you have to kill him,” I whisper, looking down. “No!” she cries, hitting my chest. “I’m not killing my brother! We can help him can’t we? Please think of something!” She looks at me with those grey eyes, sobbing. He is going to turn into one of those monsters and he will kill both of us, either she needs to kill him or I do. “You can’t do anything about it, he’ll kill you!” I said as I shook her. She saw the gun in my hand. “You wouldn’t!” She gasps, trying to take it. “Give that back to me!” She swipes at the gun as I jump back raising the gun above my head. I am taller than her, having an advantage. “I fucking trusted you!” She seethes. Her grey eyes rimmed with red from crying, now mingled anger. I fucking trusted you. Remembering our breakup. “Avery watch out!” I yell, as I see Sam grab a hold of Avery’s black hair and bite her neck. She chokes, and I shoot Sam in the head. I push Avery to the side, she falls onto the bed crying. I look at Sam and he is staring up at me, blankly. I look at his fangs disgusted, point the gun at him and shoot him in the heart one last time. I hear another sob escape from Avery.
I look at her and stroke her hair. “I’m so sorry Avery.” I say to her. “How long?” She asks, “How long what?” I ask her, “How long until I turn into what Sam just was?” I will wait as long as it takes. “I don’t know Avery.” She still has her hand on the bite. “It hurts a lot.” She laughs bitterly. She goes to a drawer and takes out a packet of gauze and a bottle of alcohol. “I guess I’ll just wrap it up until I turn.” She mutters. She turns the cap off of the alcohol bottle and pours it onto the bite, wincing. She puts the gauze over it walking over to another drawer, rummaging until she finds tape, cuts it with her teeth and places it over the gauze. “Let’s go.” We walk over to a different room, I see the splintered window and I know it is the window she broke open to get outside. “There’s an easier way to open this window, I was just desperate to get to my brother.” She explains in a parched voice. “Do you need water?” I ask her. “Yes. Please, It’s in the room we first went into, in a huge jug. There are cups right next to it,” she says out of breath. I leave without saying anything. I need time to myself. I am going to have to kill her. I have been alone for months and I am going to be alone once again. I start panicking. I did not want to deal with those things alone. They scared me. At least now I have a gun, and a better place to stay. I am going to have to move Avery’s and Sam’s bodies because those things can smell blood from miles away. I get the water and return to Avery. Her breathing is shallow and her shoulders are hunched over again. I sit across from the bed.
I lean back and glance at Avery. She looks exhausted. Crystal beads of sweat settle on top of her small nose. I keep staring as she presses her palms onto her thighs, sliding them down towards her knees. She looks out the window, her gaze is distant like she is waiting for something to come but nothing does. Her hair sticks to the sides of her porcelain colored cheekbones. The overwhelming heat entering through the window is unrelenting. I grab the glass of water next to me; the perspired drops travel down towards my already clammy hand. She asks me for a sip. Nerves run through my already tense body. I look at her longingly; images of her lying beside me enter my thoughts. I nod, handing the damp cup to her. She finally makes contact. Her grey eyes pierce mine. She watches me cringe, and keeps staring. I expect a word, a sigh, something to connect us again, but I hear nothing and the silence makes everything clear. Soon. Leaning farther back I can smell the faint odor of her lilac scented hair that is now hanging damply down her translucent back; the scent reminding me of a bright mildew morning in the springtime. The smell makes me smile but I revert back to my nonchalant position as her gaze turns into a cold one. I begin to cry, I cry until I feel my eyes dry up completely. I look up at her with my dry eyes and her apathetic expression terrifies me. How I wish I could go back a year, and hold her dewy skin tight as she lay in bed beside me. “Avery-
“Stop. I don’t want to hear it.” She retorts. Still looking distantly out the window. It is almost night. “Just do it” she says. I put the gun at the indent of her temple as she grabs it from me puts it over her heart. “Now,” her eyes burn into me. She inhales and I pull the trigger.