Ok so I have a couple of ideas on where this story is headed but I also have another story eating away at the back of my mind. So I'm going to try and finish this one up before I start on something else. But then if I'm going like that I should also probably finish the other story I have on hiatus. Aaaanyway just enjoy this.

-marblememo

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Chapter 7

It had been one year since I've been here. One whole year. I had recovered from my pneumonia pretty well. Even though Syndrome wouldn't let me out of his sight for like a month. And now I was supposed to be celebrating the year I've been here. Well year and one day. For today is my birthday. I was now 19. And to be honest I was feeling a little down.

Today I was mopping the hallways and doing that gave me the chance to let my mind wander. If this were my birthday back at the orphanage then I would have gotten a cookie and some cheap little toy from the 99 cents bin at the general store. But here, oh no, I got nothing here. And for that reason I was feeling a little bitter. I was already most of the way through my day and nothing. Zilch. Nada. Another way to say nothing in a weird way.

My couple of guard friends haven't even seemed to notice my bad mood either. Even though I had yelled at them for messing up my nice clean floors. After they had walked away mumbling something about pms I hadn't seen them. I wasn't asking for much just a little acknowledgment. I want someone to wish me a happy birthday. Even a crappy cookie would be fine right about now. But no. nope. Uh-uh. Nothing.

My only friend that was one of the few girls on this whole island was Lizabeth. Or Lizzie which is what I called her. actually calling people by their names was too much of a hassle. That's why Lizabeth was Lizzie, Syndrome was Ginger, and Mirage was Malibu Barbie (but never to her face).

I went to visit her once my shift was done. She worked with some the computers. Something about imputing number from one column into another or some shit like that. I didn't like computers much. Ever since that one movie I saw when computers realized that they were better than human I have never been able to look at a keyboard the same way again.

"Hey Lizzie, What is up o' bestest buddy o' mine?" I asked. Sitting on her desk.

"Nothing much, you know SSDD" she smiled. Hell yeah I knew SSDD.

"So when you getting off work o' buddy o' pal?" letting my childish enthusiasm shine through.

"Well" she said while straitening up a couple pieces of paper. "I'm actually almost done here…and…there done." She said while stapling something together. I smiled.

"Really? That's good 'cause I need your help with something." I said. She looked up at me eyebrow raised.

"Oh really? And what would that be?"

"Well, Lizzie, today is my birthday. And I was wondering if we could, I don't know, watch movies and talk about how getting old sucks" we both laughed. "So watcha think 'bout that? Huh? Willing to celebrate my birthday with me?" I asked. Trying out a puppy dog look. She looked at me.

"Sure, I'll drop by at, is eight okay?" she asked. I nodded.

"Okay I'll see you then" she said. I smiled, nodded, then waved goodbye as I walked off to my home to relax a little.

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Far off somewhere in the complex.

Lizabeth Connelly marched herself straight to Syndrome's private office. He sat with his feet up on his desk examining some papers. She snuck up behind him and pulled his rolling chair backward. Causing him to be startled and the papers to fall to the floor.

He glared at her.

"Can I help you?" he grounded out. Anger seeping into his words. She stared innocently.

"Who,me? No. But there is someone you could, and will, help." She told him. She leaned in close to whisper into his ear. "You, my friend, are going to spend a little quality time with a certain black haired janitor. Tonight at 8 o'clock you will make your way to-"

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Lily POV

I glanced at the clock for the tenth time in two minutes. I sighed. 8:15 and no sign of Lizzie. What a perfect birthday this was. I got tired of waiting so I popped a zombie flick into the DVD player. Gots to love them zombies.

I settled myself into the couch to watch. The door knocked. Dammit right when I was getting comfortable.

"It's open!" I yelled out to whoever was on the other side other side of the door. I could hear the door open and saw Syndrome standing in the doorway looking a little nervous.

"Um, Hi" he said. I just looked at him. He scratched the back of his head nervously. "Um, well Liz said she couldn't make it, and she's sorry by the way, and she sent me to make up for it." I smiled a little. He listened to Liz? I wonder why. His eyes nervously darted around the room.

"Since your just gunna stand there can you close the door, your lettin' in a draft." I said. He quickly scrambled to shut it. He's a weird one today.

"You gunna sit down or not?" I asked him. Letting humor mix in with my words.

"Wha? Um, oh yeah. Yes" he sat down on the couch next to me. I covered us up with the blanket and leaned on him.

"So uh, what are we watching?" he asked.

"Hm?" I tore my eyes away from the screen. "Oh, Shaun of the Dead" I smiled. If there was anything that made a movie perfect it would be Zombies.

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After a couple more movies I had gotten pretty tired. I stretched and yawned. I got up from the couch and noticed Syndrome was still asleep. He had fallen asleep partway through 28 weeks later and hadn't even gotten to see the hilarious eye gouging scene. He looked different when he was asleep. If you looked closely you could almost see the childish innocence on his face. Although it had almost disappeared after all these years of abuse.

Yeah Syndrome had told me about that. When I was sick and bored I asked for him to tell me some stories. Which he did, albeit reluctantly. I pulled the blanket on him. And walked back toward my room and fell into bed. I closed my eyes and dreamt of fighting my way through a zombie apocalypse with a ginger super villain by my side.