"Mmm?" I didn't move, as the guys passed the binoculars to one another. After a good two minutes of silence, I got up. "Seriously guys - what's wrong?"

I hadn't noticed, with my nose buried in that book, but everyone was on the ground.

"Get down." Matt hissed at me. I obeyed, then tried to crawl myself to the ledge where they all stood.

"Convicted criminals." I breathed out. I saw them there. The men in the bright orange jail suits, toting guns and shooting at anything they could see. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck..." I almost started crying. There were more of them than there were of us - how they'd gotten out of jail, I had no clue. But it was obvious that they were still supposed to be there, and that they were dangerous.

They turned their backs, and I got up in one swift move, running to the other side of the rooftop and desperately flinging the door open. I hid under a desk and started crying. Papers scattered the room from the nights we did stay in here, and were just too careless to take proper care of things. Jordon raced in shortly after me.

"Brooke?" he said, voice shaking as he entered, head still faced towards the doorway to see the rest of the guys trying to slide across the rooftop on their stomachs. It was daytime. I wasn't ready to be scared yet. Nighttime scared the shit out of me, sure - but I could still see everything right now.

I heard a gunshot outside, and stood up from under the desk, looking at everyone freeze and then continue. I heard another. Then another. Then I saw a window getting shot out across the street.

I jumped, and Jordon grabbed be close, as if it was an instinct.

"Sorry." he let go awkwardly, but I grabbed back.

"No." I shook in his arms, watching every slow moment pass as they crawled across the concrete. The gunshots, coupled with the neverending empty moan of the undead, sent chills up and down my spine. And I wished Jordon could help me feel better. I really did. - but in his arms, I felt about as vulnerable as I did outside of them.

I felt myself getting dizzy, and that's the last thing I could remember.

"Brooke... Goddammit... Brooke!" Jordon splashed cold water on my face, as I regained a little consciousness. A few minutes later, I realized that I was laying in his lap on the floor. I coughed.

"Jesus, finally!" I heard Danny exclaim, and saw his face linger a couple inches above mine. I rubbed my temples.

"Did they leave yet?" I sat up a little, and he moved.

"You've been out for about five hours - they left a long time ago."

I sank back into Jordon's lap. I felt weak - really weak. Like I hadn't eaten in days, or breathed for that matter. His fingers ran through my hair, but I barely noticed.

"It's raining outside." Dylan paused. "It smells disgusting."

"It smells like wet dog, but like. Wet rotten flesh." Jeff added.

"Jesus Christ." I rolled off Jordon and stumbled across the room, spilling my guts in a trash can, popping a breathmint, then coming back to where I was before.

I sighed, resting my head on Jordon's legs, laying back down.

"What happened here?" I whispered, because that's all I could manage.

"You fainted." Jordon stroked my hair back.

"Fuck. I should've known... this always happens the first couple days without anti-depressants..."

"Anti-depressants?"

"What do you think I always take in the morning, just vitamins?"

"Well... yeah."

"Wrong, I guess."

"I wish I would've known, I could've given you some of mine..." George added, taking a bottle out of his bag. "Take one."

"No, I have to stop depending on the shit."

"Take. One."

I gave in after another five minutes, closing my eyes as I swallowed.

"I've got enough to last the next five years." he explained. "And honestly, I hope I'm not around for five more years in this shithole."

"Don't leave..." I mumbled. I was getting dizzy again, and almost rolled off Jordon. He grabbed me and told me to sit up, propping me up beside him on the wall.

I leant on him anyways.

"Here." Danny handed me some dry ramen.

"Thanks." I started picking it apart, trying to ignore that nightly fear I got in the pit of my stomach - what if the glass ever broke? What if the zombies got in? What if we lost another guy? This is a family. I don't want to lose anyone else...

I munched on my noodles and tried to start getting back into the conversation, back into the swing of things. I stopped leaning on Jordon and tried to sit up straight on my own. My vision still lacked, and I knew why - I hadn't exactly been eating right for the past little while. It wasn't the medication. It wasn't the pressure. It was just - before this, I hadn't been satisfied with myself, and now, more than ever, these guys needed to depend on me to be as athletically tuned as possible.

And when I look in the mirror and still see the fat kid my mother kicked out when I was fifteen, it's discouraging. I lost a lot of the weight once I moved to L.A. - when you're working three jobs, it's hard to get hungry.

But now, I felt it more than ever.

Nobody really noticed, and I didn't expect them to.

"So what happened with those guys earlier?" I asked.

"Obviously we all made it in. They shot the building next door, but forgot about the whole if-you-make-a-lot-of-noise-zombies-will-eat-you thing. We watched it all. Pretty ridiculous." Jake clarified.

"Sounds like a ball."

"Oh, yeah. The reanimation was the best. Watching some dude without limbs get up is -"

"Dude, she probably doesn't need to hear this." Jorel shot him a glance.

"Sorry."

"Eh, I asked." I said. "Want these?" I handed my ramen to George.

"You had like, three bites!"

"I'm not hungry." Lies.

"Okay then." Believable lies, at least.

"Know what we should do, to lighten the mood or whatever?" Jorel asked.

"Mmm?" we all looked at him.

"We dragged that guitar up here, didn't we? Music'll take our minds off things for awhile, anyways."

"That's actually a really good idea." I smiled. "I've actually been playing guitar since I was six."

"Really?" Jordon looked at me, surprised.

"Yeah, let me see."

I played a few riffs, and we all sat around our lamps, passing 40s and just being happy we're together.

"Sing us something, Brooke!" Jeff shouted.

"No, I'm really no good at singing..." I started.

"DO IT!" Dylan pitched in, and before I knew it, there was a group of guys pressuring me into singing.

"I'm looking for the upsides to these panic attack nights where I'm staying in eating takout food, by TV light and, I'm trying to play the b-side to this awkward life of mine. You could flip me over, I'd sing a few lines about how I'm so used to shooting myself in the kneecaps, standing in the way of progress, or letting down my friends. So I'm nailing shards of hope together, to put something over my head. 'Cause you know here, it's always raining, and it happened again, it happened again - he said, 'I let this slide when we were younger - you know you don't have to write like this. The whole world's full of losers, if you get the chance to win, take it.'" I sang and played one of my favorite songs for them, and smiled when nobody laughed - in fact, all I got was a "That was fucking amazing. Cheers."

If you get the chance to win, take it.