God, she never imagined her last moments like this. She knew she was going to die, one way or another. But lying in a garbage bin? Staring at the smokey skies, as her vision began to tunnel? No. Not quite like this.
Another gurgling wheeze. She tried to recall just what happened. Why was she here...where is here. Where is she. Who is she. Exhale. Inhale. She's...she's Mary. Marry? Married to who? Isn't she a bit young to marry? Where did this ugly bite mark on her come from. Why is she bleeding. Her vision is fading. Exhale. Inhale. That's right. She got bitten. A common infected she thinks. She isn't sure. It's all a blur to her. She must've been pushed off in the attack. Maybe she jumped? In an effort to stop the effects. Exhale. Inhale.
She felt wetness on her cheeks and nose. She's crying. She doesn't want to die. Not like this, never like this. The pain. It's getting stronger- it's hot. White hot, like the time she stuck her hand on a toaster while in use.
Exhale. Inhale.
Her throat feels like it's closing up. Is it mucus? Is it her lungs failing? She feels like she's suffocating. She can't tell if her bowels have released or not. She can't feel anything down there.
Exhale.
She wants to go home. Before the outbreak.
Inhale.
She wants her life back. She doesn't want to dart from building to building, scavenging for food long gone or spoiled.
Exhale.
She wants her mom.
Inhale.
Exhale.
She can't breathe.
She doesn't want to anymore.
