A/N= So I must say that when I played The Last of Us, I was immediately enthralled by Ellie's character. She has a really interesting role in the story, and Left Behind was even better. ElliexRiley for the win! Also I know this is really bad in the sense of past/present tense, so someone point out which bits are screwed in the review section and I'll repost this better.
Disclaimer= Do I look like a fucking billionaire to you? So do you think I own it? I thought not.
She Was All I Had:
Chapter one:
I layed on the uncomfortable, somewhat lumpy piece of shit they expected me to call a bed, staring up to the dull white ceiling above me. Two days ago, I would have given much more lively descriptions of the bed and the roof. But that was when Riley was with me. Honestly I could have been in hell and I would have still seen the bright side of things; because with Riley, everything was a blast. The 21 hours and 7 minutes it took from us being bitten to her turning was a blast. She made sure of that. But since then- since she left-everything has been dark, sad, and lonely. I'll admit- I've cried more than all the infants in this lousy, unfair, apocalyptic world. But like I care; tonight, I won't be here, in this stupid firefly hideout. I'll be with Riley again. She was all I had; it's sappy and cliché-Riley would probably laugh in my face about it-but it's true. I rolled over on the bed; my head turning over to the photo of Riley, - who stood pointing the camera back at us, a little above our heads- and me, stood behind her in a half embrace. I smiled at the picture, relishing in the happy memory. But she isn't here anymore. I got her killed. If back at the mall, I had made that jump, we would have gotten away; she would be alive. But I was too weak. I shook the memory away, for once taking into consideration that she may not blame me. Either way, I will find out soon.
I got up from the bed and walked over to my drawer, pulling it open to retrieve my Walkman. My hand brushed over Riley's 9mm, which I'd shot her with two days ago. We would die with the same gun, which coincidently had one bullet left in it-how damn cliché. I closed the drawer-something tells me they will not be pleased if they find out someone deemed unstable has a gun.
"Unstable my fucking ass," I mutter, "They just got the wrong idea. I'm not in shock; just don't wanna talk to nobody."
I turned my attention back to the Walkman and started up the mix tape Riley gave me; that seemed like forever ago now. God I missed her. But once everyone is asleep, I will see her again. If I'm not patient someone will walk in and stop me. I just have to wait until ten…