Summary: She never knew what to feel about what happened. She never knew if people had to fight liked her. Though these last moments she had, all she could do was just . . . Think. Think of all that happened. {Movieverse}
Pairing: OC/Ben Parish (Zombie)
Changes to Character(s): N/A
Spoilers To: 5th Wave Movie/Book
Books Belongs To: Rick Yancey
Type of Story: Chapter-Filled
Quote: "The universe doesn't give you what you ask for with your thoughts - it gives you what you demand with your actions." ~ Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free
A/N: This is my first 5th Wave fanfiction, so I hope you will enjoy it. Please tell me if you want it to be a full story or just a one-shot.
~•~ Nicole Haynes ~•~
I didn't expect it.
Nobody did.
Before, I was an average girl with big hopes and dreams. Including, a loving family who supported me no matter how ridiculous they were as well as friends that made me see the reality of it all.
Gosh, I even had a crush on a boy that was considered untouchable. This "dream relationship" was a complete impossibility.
In the end, that all changed.
For me . . .
For you . . .
For everyone . . .
These continuous concepts only plagued me after the Waves. Upsurges that were sent to us from the Others loitering above us—watching as we starved and pleaded for mercy.
I was normal.
I was safe.
I believed.
Even at this dangerous moment, I thought of it again . . . Of everything that was our past lives. I even thought of him.
The boy I thought I loved.
How he would smile at me and make my stomach twist from nerves. How the light shone upon his dark hair and those sweet, brown eyes.
How I thought he could possibly like me and of the moments filled with sparks every time he was close by.
Those moments I desired to have again.
I mulled over the way my parents would find creative ways to talk about him, making me frantically blush which would only cause them to smile over the cuteness of it . . .
~•~
"So, Nicole," Dad began. "When do we get to see the boy you like?"
"Probably not any time soon," I said, smirking. " Besides, I don't even know if he likes me back."
"You're just worried that he's going to Parish in my hands."
"Ha ha," I said, sarcastically. I could feel my cheeks reddening for the hundredth time that day. My family just won't stop with the Ben Parish puns. "How long did that take to make?"
"Just about a few hours."
~•~
. . . and about my friends who would push me in Ben's path at the most embarrassing moments to incite a relationship. I could still hear them giggling as I made an anxious attempt at conversation.
~•~
My legs turned into jelly in a matter of seconds. I couldn't help but gaze around the football field to avoid any eye contact with the football star, my crush ever since middle school.
I just had to come meet Ashley and Veronica after cheerleading practice.
"Oh, uh, hi, Ben," I stuttered.
He smiled in greeting.
Why did they have to throw me in the way of a very sweaty Ben Parish? The sweat only appears to increase his handsomeness.
Curse his good looks, I thought.
"Hey, Nicole," he greeted, kindly.
"I have a quick question. I-I just wanted to know, um, if that—if you like cotton balls?"
Cotton balls? Really?
"Yeah, I guess?" he answered, confused. I could see him tense up as the sound of his coach yelling for him.
"Oh, okay," I murmured. "Um, bye now."
~•~
I wonder what everyone thought of that. A silly girl trying to ask out or even flirt with the most popular guy in school.
How ridiculous.
And now, I couldn't help but imagine what population were thinking of doing now to survive: killing, stealing, murdering, etc.
All because of the Others.
Aliens.
What we thought was fiction was reality. The various books and theories surrounding the topic were all wrong except for one small fact.
They want to take over the world.
Why else would they send Waves that affect humans the most? I mean, each Wave had a significance for human life:
First Wave: The electricity was wiped out. The Others probably knew about our major dependence on technology. Almost everyone in the world at least had a cell phone they constantly use.
Second Wave: They used the forces of the Earth against us. Without the help of technology, nobody could predict the approaching earthquake and the massive tsunamis that tore across our continents.
Third Wave: The avian disease became invincible. The Others manipulated the disease to be merciless with only a handful of recoveries. These recoveries only appeared among those who were immune.
Fourth Wave: The Others are among us. I heard rumors from a grouped I (momentarily) joined that said the Others could possess the human body and control every thought and movement.
I looked out into the woods and sighed.
Such morbid thoughts couldn't help me now.
Especially now.
I look around for anything I could use to my advantage. Anything to protect me from the dangers of this invasion. There were none.
The animals were especially quiet. It seems they have also sense our unease.
I scrambled out from under the brush to get a clear view of the woods ahead.
There were too many broken or loose branches pressing against me as I did—forcing me to backtrack. I silently pulled my gun out from my holster.
"Where are you?" I murmured.
The quiet stretched into what felt like a suffocating coffin. I looked around me, frantically searching for my target. A snap echoed loudly behind me.
Startled, I pointed my gun at the site the sound came from.
After close examination, I found an innocent doe staring at me with blank eyes before jumping over my hiding place.
I sighed with relief.
Another personal Wave for us humans.
Paranoia.
Distrust.
I haven't seen another person being in weeks—not even a glimpse of my family. I'm not even sure if they are alive.
Mom the shopaholic.
Dad the protector.
Kyle the bad boy.
Reyna the little angel.
"Where are you?" I asked the ghosts in my head.
I missed them with every fiber of my being. I had searched my old home in a search for clues only to find in a mess. Nothing was saved from the Waves.
"Where are―"
Click.
Cautiously, I turned to face my attacker. I glowered through the brush and slowly made out the figure of a man.
A man with a gun.
After a small pause, I spoke.
"It's your choice," I said, calmly. "Do I live or . . . die?
I hoped you enjoyed this one-shot.
I'll see if I should let it stay a one-shot or a chapter filled story.
Please R&R.
- Soldier Of The Mist
