Elle McBriar
May 6th, 1 year and 163 days since the first zombie reportI woke up in a cold sweat.
I looked around, noticing that I'm alone.
I try to sit up but it hurts too much so I just lay there. I don't hear any noises coming from the house.
Maybe they've gone out. But they wouldn't leave me alone, right?
"Hello?" I called out, a croaky voice surprising me. When I hear no reply I begin to panic.
My skin feels hot and itchy as I reach up a hand to soothe my burning skin.
My stomach is exposed as I peer down at myself. I'm wearing a sports bra and shorts. Someone must've changed me.
"Somebody?" I cry.
I feel tears fall down my face as I close my eyes. Where is everyone? Why am I crying? I'm stronger than this!
I wiggle my toes and I almost cry at how grateful I am that I can feel both of my feet. At least nothings majorly wrong, right?
I need to sit up. I need to see where everyone is. I try my hardest, my core burning with every movement.
Collapsing to my knees, the same sensation I felt cane back.
Suddenly, I felt the metallic taste of blood come up my throat as I hurled it on the floor. Pure blood.
Disgusting.
I crawl across the floor, using the door frame to help myself stand.
Blood is dripping from my lips, sticky and warm.
I'm using everything I can to support myself. It's like roller skating, using walls and trees and people to help you stay balanced.
I cling to the walls, limping into every room. I glanced up at the stares, "Stupid stairs." I groaned.
I felt faint as I leaned against the wall. I'm so hot, why am I hot?
I get to the downstairs bathroom and basically die from heatstroke. Why the hell do I feel like I'm on fire?
Closing the door and placing my hands on the porcelain sink, I look up at myself.
Once again, I cry at the person in the mirror. I'm so ugly!
A black eye has swollen my eye shut, I have a bruised cheek, cut lip and eyebrow.
My life flashes before me as I try to blink away the memory of being punched in the face by Mason. Whom I killed.
Dang, I'm killing everyone.
My eye is sore to the touch as I gently dab my tears with toilet paper. But every time I look at myself I cry.
Why does Paxton love me? He could do so much better than someone ugly like me.
I know it's ridiculous to feel sorry for myself, but I can't deal with this.
I sit on the edge of the bathtub, my muscles relaxing as I sink further and further into myself, I feel like falling asleep.
"ELLE?" I hear my name being screamed.
You know when you're half asleep and someone says something and the. you're awake again? That's me right now.
"ELLE, WHERE ARE YOU?"
I jolt awake, wincing at the pain I just witnessed, "I-in here." I call out with all the strength I have.
The bathroom door is pushed open and my beautiful saviour and boyfriend Paxton steps in.
YOU ARE READING
Don't Talk To Anyone | BOOK 2
Teen Fiction(Sequel to Don't Talk To Strangers) It's been a couple months since the zombies had vanished. No more zombies. No more killings. And no more bad people. So they thought... Life is good, until something seems- out of place. Maybe it's a change in...