Time

I walked hurriedly towards the bus stop, blowing my warm breath into my hands.  The breaths twisted out of my mouth in smooth clouds, contrasting into the chilled winter air.
My runners crunched into the snow in a fast pace, and I made an effort to make it in time.
I did.

First period.  I sit in my seat, Aria sits in front of me like usual.  She turns around and smiles at me. It makes my heart stutter.
We chat while walking to our next class and she grabs my hand playfully.  She kisses my cheek and flutters away to her classroom.
I'm happy.

Lunch time.  My stomach growls.  But mum spent all her paycheck on the apartment and on liquor.  It's been a week and we still haven't had a proper meal.
Aria shares her ham sandwich with me.
It tastes really good.

I hop on the bus.  The driver seems angry.  He's yelling to move back.  We can't, we are already suffocating in each others breaths.
I'm sweating.

I walk home, relieved it's so cold out.  I feel refreshed and light.  I get home when it's dark out, and notice the entire apartment building is dark.
My gut twists.

I have to climb the stairs because the elevators aren't working.  I get to the 5th floor a bit winded, but I'm okay.
I open the door.  Mum is sleeping on the couch with a piece of paper in her hand.  Curiosity fills me and I pull it out.
In large, upper case letters, EVICTION NOTICE.
I put it back.

I wake up late again.  Mum is watching the news.  It's weird that she's up so early.  I hear the newscaster say how the bombing in our country are getting more frequent as well as more intense.
I find an apple under a pile of rags.
I don't have time to wash it.
I run to the bus in the frosted air.

Aria sits down and talks to me about the bombings.  I tell her not to worry.  She smiles.
My heart stutters.

Lunch again.  She splits her sandwich again.
And she gives me her granola bar.  She tells me I need to eat more.  When I say she should have it she says she needs to lose weight anyways.
I tell her that's far from the truth.
She asks if I'm okay.
I eat the granola bar and kiss her.

I get home and open the pantry.  There's half a bottle of whiskey left.  I wonder what my mum did with the other ones.
She's not on the couch.
I scrap some money together for a small pizza.
I keep an extra slice for lunch so Aria doesn't worry.

Mum is watching the news again.  There's screaming on the television.  I ask her if she had breakfast.
She doesn't hear me.
I ask again.
She slowly turns her head.  Her blond hair is stringy and greasy.  Her brown eyes are bloodshot.  She slurs something.
I leave.

The bus didn't come today.  I went to Aria's.  Her bus didn't come either.
We lay in silence while listening to the radio.
They're saying our city is a target for the bombings.
She doesn't think I realize she's crying.
I stay the night.

We catch a ride to school.  The principle says class isn't cancelled.
First period goes slowly.  When Aria looks back at me it makes things better.

Second period comes, Aria and I part ways.

Aria gives me a piece of her sandwich.  When I got home after staying at her house I found my slice of pizza was gone.
I thanked her.
She gave me her granola bar again.
I thanked her again.

We go out after school and grab coffee.  She pays.  I hug her for a long time.
Her hair smells like flowers.
She always smells like flowers.

I get home later.  Mum is on the couch.  She yells at me for eating all the food.  I don't tell her she's the one who ate it, just to vomit it up.
Instead, I go to bed early.

I wake up late and run out the door.  My shoes are slipping on the ground as I run.
I just make the bus.
A few people laugh at me.
I watch the scenery pass as we drive.
A lot of people are walking around with large bags filled with what seems to be basic necessities.
We get to school.

First period.
Aria isn't here today.

I walk to second period alone.

I find a spot to sit at lunch.  My stomach growls.

I catch the bus home.

Mum isn't in her room or on the couch.  Her bathroom door is shut.
When I knock there's no reply.
I try to open it.
It won't.
The doorknob must be jammed again.
I notice there's no more alcohol.
Maybe she stopped.

I leave early, mum wasn't watching the news.  I didn't hear her come home last night.
I wonder if she's seeing someone.
The snow is melting into ice and it's even more slick.  I'm glad I left early because it takes me twice as long to get to the stop.

First period, Aria arrives late.
She whispers to me that her brother was sick, and her mum couldn't stay home to take care of him.
Her dad is out of town again.
I give her her homework.
We have time in class to work together.
She turns her chair.
Her hair flows behind her back.
She blinks at me.
Everything goes silent.
Suddenly, a loud ringing stings my ears.
Aria's eyes are wide.  They look like an endless void of fear.
Her hair is blowing to the side like in a photo shoot.
But the air is coming from the window.
The window that is shattering towards us.
Glass flies into our skin.
By the time that I see blood specking her face, everything is already black.
Everything is already pitch black.

A Hunger Games Excerpt

I don't know why I was excited for this.  I mean, I was ecstatic for it, really I was.  But when it started I... felt something was wrong.
This wasn't right.
But what did I have to lose?
________________________________

Journal entry 209

Mum is sick again.  I don't know how she'll fair from being hit with such a strong illness a few weeks ago.  She's still so frail, and father can't take care of her because he's been taking his week long trips into the mountains for supplies.  He left four days ago for a strong strain of minerals so he can clear mum's system, but he won't be back for several more nights.  I'm doing all the house caring right now, including taking care of  the chickens and horse.
It was hard to clean the grass today because it was raining s'much.  It made me want to hop on Ringer and trot gracefully into the clouds.
Mum said I need to stop all this dreaming nonsense because when I get out into the real world I can't take time for petty, unrealistic dreams.
The rain made me feel like she was right.

________________________________

Journal entry 210

Mum's getting worse.  It's only been two nights since I last wrote, and I can clearly see her veins.  It's scaring me because when I went out to groom Ringer, he had this pasty film over his eyes and he seemed very upset.  He kept stomping and shouting, he actually bit his tongue almost clean in half.
The rain hasn't stopped.
________________________________

Journal entry 211

Oh I have amazing news!  I was in the village square today, and one of the government officials was talking to the towns people asking if we would want a way to help our starving and pain.  What a stupid, stupid, stupid question.  Of COURSE we don't want to suffer any more!  We all signed an official form asking for help, and he said he's send for the event right away.  Everyone is prepping and getting oh so excited, oh my goodness I have to stop writing about this event because I have amazing news about mother.  When I was in the village, the man spoke to me privately and asked how my life was.  I went on t' tell him how my mum was very sick and how I would love to talk to him, but I needed to go take care of her.  Then he asked me a strange question.  He asked me if I loved her.  I remember tilting my head confused, like he was telling one of those strange jokes that teenagers didn't get, but his expression stayed blank.  I nodded.  Then he gave me a vile after I explained what was wrong with her, and I thanked him so terribly much and ran off to mum.
I told her about the medicine, and how a government official gave it to me, but she refused to take it.
She always hated the government, so I knew she'd say no.
But I planned for that.
When she was asleep on the couch, I injected her.  She didn't even know, nor did she wake up from it.  She looks so peaceful.
________________________________

Journal entry 212

I got a letter today.
From father's partner.
Dad isn't coming home.
________________________________

Journal entry 213

I feel like a piece of my heart has been torn off.  Daddy fell from the signal tower placed at the mineral station.  It's set up there for emergency use, and I can't think why he'd ever have to use it.  His partner, James, said that father was spooked because he thought he saw a strange shadow, so he rushed up the ladder, but when he almost got to the top, the ladder somehow shattered, and father's head split against the rocks.
I love him so much.  Daddy, I love you so much.
And mum is acting strange.  She's been sleeping on and off, barely eating anything.  I think her body is just replenishing herself.  She asked if I injected her, and I had to lie to her.
I checked on Ringer today and I had to call an animal caretaker to put him down.
He chewed off his own legs.
________________________________

Journal entry 214

Everyone gathered in the village today to talk about what was going to happen with rations and healthy living standards.  Things are changing.  I'm experiencing a major change!  I feel like I'm on air.
________________________________

Journal entry 215

Mum is sleeping a lot more now.  I haven't seen her open her eyes for over a day.  I'm worried, I can't lose her too.  I hope the medicine is helping her fight off this disease.
_________________________________

Journal entry 216

She didn't make it.  I called for help too late.  I went to wake her to eat, but she wasn't responding.  I was screaming at her.  Wake up, I said, mum don't leave me!  But when I ran for help, the doctor said she had been dead for two days.  I haven't noticed that her illness got so extreme.  Why didn't the medication work?  Why have I lost everything I've loved?  Father, Ringer, Mum.  I can't live here anymore now, the house costs too much too keep up by myself.  I have plans to be married off soon so I can have finances.  I don't know who yet, though.
I've let my family down.
I've let myself down.
________________________________

Journal entry 217

They're calling it 'The Hunger Games'.  The event that should help out our societies.  They're taking two people from each land plot and calling them separate divisions.   I don't know why they've split Panem like this, but I know live in district twelve.  They recently moved all the chickens and animals to a different district.  District two, I think.  Since we're near the mountains we focus on coal mining now.
They pull two people tomorrow.
A boy and a girl.
I hope it's me.
I want to help my people.
_______________________________

Journal entry 218

It happened.  So many girls were too young to enter, so there were only twenty names to pull.  I got pulled! As well as a boy whom I'm unfamiliar with.  Chase something.  Crawfoot? I think Crawfoot.
I'm so excited, we get to go to the Capitol tonight.  We get to drink and dine and dance tonight.
We aren't going to starve anymore.
_______________________________

Journal entry 219

We are allowed to bring two things with us into the event.  I'm choosing my journal and charcoal.  I want to be able to read what I have written as well as write what happens.  Chase is bringing a hairband for his hair (it is quite long and shaggy blond) as well as a pouch of pebbles.   I don't know why.
We drank so much last night, I think I've gained weight.  It feels so nice to be full.
________________________________

Journal entry 220

Tomorrow's the big day, oh gosh I'm so excited.
Mum, father, you're in my prayers.
________________________________

I don't like this.  I hate this, I'm scared and confused and don't know why they've set this up.  There's cannons going off, I think people are attacking each other I don't know why oh god I'm so confused.  Chase lunged at me before heading to the centre.  There was this large pile of objects, they looked sharp and scary and I couldn't run there.  I can only hear the announcer's voice saying that this is the first ever Hunger Games, and that the target is to take out our opponents, and the last man standing wins eternal happiness and riches and oh my god I can't kill people.  I can't kill people.  I can't kill people.  I can't kill people.
I ran away from the centre.  It's all rocks and trees.  I fell down a cliff and I think I dislocated my shoulder.  It hurts so much to move, but I can still wright.  I had to bite my cheek, but I put it back.  It hurt so much.  I never felt a physical pain so badly before.
I hid for a while today, and when it got to be sunset I ran to the centre to see if someone left anything behind.
There were so many bodies.
Clutching things.
Knives.
Swords.
Darts.
I grabbed the darts because I was hoping they only knocked people out.  Then I grabbed a bag that was filled with stuff in it, looted through pockets finding a pocket knife, lighter and compass.
But the compass doesn't work.  It flies around everywhere and never stays still.
I'm afraid to sleep.
I'm in a rock nook right now.
I can hear screams and cannons.
But they aren't screams of pain.
They're screams of rage.
_______________________________

I slept on and off through the night.  Every cannon shot jerked me awake.  At around midnight images of all that were killed filled the sky with our anthem music.
Why are they doing this?  How does this help?
I've been walking around quietly now.  But I think someone's been following me.  I hear their steps.  Right now I hear their steps.
I don't know why I was excited for this.  I mean, I was ecstatic for it, really I was.  But when it started I... felt something was wrong.
This wasn't right.
But what did I have to lose?
I'm trying to run now, but my writing is getting messy,
OH-

An Undead Tale

Panic struck me as I rolled over, pulled the safety off my hand gun and was deafened suddenly by the three quick shots I released.

The body dropped on top of me, the hundred-and-eighty-something pound man pinning me to the ground.  His rotten smell enveloped my nose causing me to gag.  But I knew I had to hold it down, otherwise I'd suffocate in my own stomach waste.  

I shimmied my left hand into the inner side of my pant waist, tugging out a worn dagger and stabbing the man's gut to push him off.  

With great strain his body slowly slumped to the side, allowing me to turn over and hurl. 

What little that was in my stomach was now under me, and my body felt exhausted. 

That was the second close-call in the past day that almost sent me to my own immortal death. 

"Fuck!"  I spat, punching the cement beneath me, "Fucking fuck!"

I gasped and sat on my heels, looking up at the setting sun.  There was a stale taste in my mouth, and I didn't want to waste the water I had to rinse it out, so I pulled out a cigarette instead while adjusting myself to be able to see my ankle.  Or in other words, the ankle that the man had grabbed. 

Relief filled me as I realized he hadn't broken my skin with his filthy nails that were filled with this disease. 

I remember sitting at home with my brother when we were younger saying how the world needed something to purge people.  I know that's awful, honest I do, but we were young and heard all about over population issues and all of these terrorist threats.
When the virus hit the news, it seemed like a blessing.
But it wasn't.
It wasn't a blessing because it wasn't natural.
A blessing is something from the natural world that brings a person luck or sense of calm.
This was neither.

I pushed myself up, setting into a steady jog across this street.  All the doors of the large houses were bolted down with wooden planks, metal poles and simple cardboard.   As the sun kept setting, my panic was returning.

I remember when it was the sixth night when the disease started, we weren't too scared because media hyped things up, we knew that.  We knew that.  But when I was in bed, the front door started banging.  Really, really aggressively.  It woke my fifteen-year-old self, as well as my older brother.  Mum and dad were already up, they were always arguing and for the past few days they were arguing about whether to stay at home or visit our grandparents.  But I was really scared. Adrenaline hit me, see?  And my heart was racing.  My brother's room was right next to mine, and I rushed into his room full of fear, to see that he was in his clothes, a backpack on his back and his sword on his waist.  He got that sword for his ninth birthday.  He loved Japanese culture, so a family friend got him an antique katana.  He looked at me when I walked in and asked if I was okay.  I hugged him.
Dad when to check the door.
That was the first mistake.
That was the first damned mistake.
The thing lunged at him.
It didn't bit him anywhere.
It tore him a part.
Drove its hands into his chest with its nails.  Mum ran down to help him, but they travel in packs.  They're smart.  They're very smart.
My brother and I stayed in his room.

My breath was coming quicker, I was running faster.  The sun was almost gone.  I finally saw the lighthouse.  Thank fuck.

But like I said, they're smart.  This disease... I know people would call them zombies.  I know people get angry when shows call them 'walkers' or 'undead' but I can't use the term zombie.  The disease is a strain of rabies and tumour cells.  The people who made it thought the two could cancel out one another.  But it made a mecha-virus.   A terrifying virus.  The cancer cells multiplied muscle cells and tissue as well as rapid brain cell growth.  It protected their minds while giving increased strength and longer limbs.  Then the rabies... it made them crazed.  Rapid movement,  sharper teeth and longer nails.  It shut down the analytical mind and amplified the murderous, kill-or-be-killed.  Then once they began eating flesh like cannibals, it warped their sense of sanity to the extreme, just like how cannibals are affected.

As I reached the water to the lighthouse I dove in without hesitation, swimming to the little island.  And by the time I made it to the door, the sky was purple.

My brother was always into dressing up as a superhero- spiderman, batman-- even as a Jedi master.  He had his sword ready as I quivered behind him, we both were watching the door.
We heard and saw the door shaking.  I felt tears forming.  He was sturdy.  Finally, the doorknob began turning.  Really slowly.  I thought about how in movies they did this to create suspense, but it was the killer toying with the prey.  The door shot open and the thing jumped at my brother.  I remember screaming as he swung his sword against the man's head.  It was rusty, but it cracked his skull and he dropped.  My brother was heaving.  More were coming through the door and he was slicing them.  When there was a break he shoved me, his backpack and something I didn't see under his bed, and he pushed several dead bodies over the bottom so I couldn't be seen or smelled.  And I was trying not to cry.  I was confused as to why he wasn't hiding with me.  But I waited under the bed for days.  Waited for him to get me.  Waited for me to stop being afraid.  But finally, I pushed out from under the bed, and stood up.
My legs were sore, as well as me back.  I tucked the little package he left into the bag and looked around and grabbed what I could.  I also checked around the entire house for useful items.  By the time I got to the front door, I noticed that mum and dad were tucked on the couch, looking like they were asleep, and the front door closed.  I sighed and opened it while saying goodbye to mum and dad.
I threw my shoulder against the door, falling into the lighthouse.  Up, up, up I went.  Finding my little sleeping ground by the rotating light.  I sat on my sleeping bag, looking through my backpack.  At the bottom was the little package my brother left me.  
I added another day to my journal.
It had been Seven Hundred and Eighty-Two Days.
Just over two years.
I sighed and pulled out the package.  He would be Twenty today.
I opened the package for the second time and reread the note inside of it.

Keep going, Isabelle, I'm out there.  I love you.  I'll find you by grandma's as soon as possible.  When you get there, wait for me.  I'll be waiting for you too.  But you need to get to -----

I dropped the package in water before I read it.  But I'll get there.  The sentence after talks about me meeting someone.  Someone by town hall.  The lighthouse is a thirty minute walk to town hall, and I sit there all day, and come back here to sleep.  I've been doing it for two years.

I heard the Lighthouse door open, fear slicing through my skull.  I grabbed the knife and huddled against the wall, waiting.