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It goes without saying that I hate nightmares. I hate them. I hate them so much, because it's my mind's way of saying Haha, psych!
Heart pounding, I wake up in a cold sweat, my eyes flashing open as I come face-to-face with the darkness in my bedroom. Still terrifying, but I'm not in the clutches of a clicker like I was seconds before in my nightmare.
I grab Felix and my headphones off of the nightstand, slipping on my headphones and letting myself be drowned in songs from years and years ago.
Art show today. I think to myself, trying to get my mind away from the throbbing in my head and the sick feeling in my stomach.
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It's a long half-hour walk from where our house is to where the art show is. I've gotten used to the route, so much so that Mom lets me walk alone.
Felix in hand and headphones on ears, I let myself walk down the cracked asphalt street in tune to the drums of a song.
Mom works with some of the other people in town who figure we should probably have some system of government or leadership and all. Being in law school before the outbreak enables her with some vital information, so she works with them on what sort of leadership we would have in the town. Obviously we don't have laws or anything like that, just unspoken rules like Don't kill your neighbor's animals, and things like Just don't kill your neighbor.
I see colorful booths and tables set up ahead in the center of town, and I click off Felix, placing him in my pocket before and pushing my headphones down around my neck.
Kids run around freely and adults mingle around, talking and chatting and laughing while observing the artworks. I am a fly, and no one seems to mind me slipping through the crowds.
Music plays somewhere, a guitar I think, and I slow my pace, taking the time to actually look over the booths and admire some of the artwork. Artists here have to be creative with limited materials.
My favorite is the glass and metal sculptures. With glass bottles and cans from soda and soup lying around, some people make pretty amazing things.
I haven't found a table with their things yet, and then pause, gazing up at one of the paintings on a flat piece of wood.
A while ago the adults had a debate over whether or not to show clickers and runners and bloaters to the young children. Even though it's been settled and we try to hide it from the smaller kids, I have to admire the courage of this artist to put the piece on display.
It's a runner coming straight for the viewer, mouth open, veins bulging in the face and around the eyes, which have a glassy yet terrifying trait to them. Blood trains down from the infection wound on their neck, and their mouth hangs open, their body at awkward angles and joints popped. I can't tell whether it's male or female, the neutral rags it wears not giving a hint to either.
I stand stock-still, remembering when the runner attacked my brother and I. It's months and months ago, but yet I can't stop from hearing the gargled noises from it, the sound it released before charging, how close I came to going down.
"Does it look familiar to you two?" The artist asks, emerging from the depths of her booth. She's young, maybe early twenties or so, with black hair pulled back under a faded blue bandana. She has a piercing in her lip, and dark eyes.
You two? I think, only turning left to face the auburn mystery beside me. Her eyes are a lime green, bright and gazing thoughtfully at the picture, and there's a scar on her right eyebrow. She seems about my age.
As I glance back at the artist, I give a shrug and half-smile, hands in the pockets of my shorts, "They all look the same in the end, anyway."
She laughs at this, "True that, kid."
Then, extending her hand forward, "I'm Mitzy."
"Maria." I say, returning the handshake. Mitzy nods, and then jerks her thumb over her shoulder, "If you're curious, there's ice cream that way. I personally recommend the strawberry."
"Thanks for the advice." I say, and give a nod as I head off. The girl's gone, and I head off to find ice cream.
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Strawberry ice cream is pink and delicious. I spoon another bite of it into my mouth, savoring the flavor and the smooth texture. If you could get all the nutrients you needed from ice cream, I think I'd be five hundred pounds…and still keep eating away.
"Hey," The girl turns her head over her shoulder, gesturing for Tommy's brother to follow her, "There's a spot over here."
I focus on my spoon and faded bowl, not making a noise as they sit beside me on a crumbling brick wall. My headphones and Felix lay on the other side of me.
"Ever had ice cream before?" Tommy's brother (TB for short), asks, and she shakes her head, almost smacking me with her ponytail. "Nope. Never."
"Sarah and I used to get it at this place called…ah, I can't remember the name of it now. They'd mix your toppings into the ice cream, like gummy bears and hot fudge and chunks of brownie." I detect a worn Texan accent in his voice. I'd say Southern, but after living in close quarters with people from all over, you've learned to distinguish accents.
"Mmm. Sounds good." The girl remarks, leaning back on two hands with her ice cream by the side of her. TB gestures to it with his spoon, "Aren't you gonna eat that?"
"Hold your horses. I'm just relaxing." She says, and I face my own cup again, spooning in another pink bite. The silence is killing me, and I don't want to leave because I feel like that will make me look rude.
Finally, I hear a shuffle and she sits back up, TB glancing at the mulch on her back, but thinking better of it and closing his mouth instead of telling her. She's wearing long sleeves, which I still can't believe in this heat.
Taking the cup from where she set it, I suppose she glances down at it, "Hey. It's…liquid."
"It's ice cream. It melts." TB remarks, and she shoves him, "Thanks for that helpful tip."
TB laughs, and I smile at the conversation. Then the girl makes a gesture with her arms, and the liquid ice cream goes all over me.
Pink droplets drift of the edge of my curly bangs, joining the steady stream down my face, plopping off my chin, and trailing down my neck, pooling at the collar of my t-shirt while some of it goes over my t-shirt and underneath (!).
My right arm and right leg are covered, and droplets trail off of my shorts while other slip down into my shoe.
"Oh…" The girl breathes, and TB gives her a look, "Ellie."
"Sorry. I was just—and then you—uh, Joel?"
"Yes?"
I lick the spots nearest my mouth. Ellie. Huh. So that's her name. And the brother…Joel? Pfft. It's close with John. Then I turn to face them, managing to grin at the unluckiness of the situation, "Uh…hi?"
Ellie glances at me, and her expression changes. She clamps her lips shut, and Joel gives her a nudge, "Are you laughing?"
At this, I laugh myself, and she joins in. "Didn't mean to spill ice cream all over you."
"It's fine." I say, slipping off the wall. I feel the droplets that dared to come into my shirt trail down to my shorts, and I give them a smile, "I needed to cool off, anyway."
Tossing out my empty cup and spoon in the tray for dirty dishes, I turn back to face them. Joel sizes me up, covered in ice cream, "How far away do you live?"
"Newton Street." I say, resisting the urge to use the corner of my shirt to wipe the ice cream out of my face. Joel whistles, "I reckon you got a way to go before you reach home."
I nod, coming back and retrieving my electronics. Then Joel glances at Ellie, "Go get her to Maria and Tommy. I think they're in the back center, and they can get her cleaned up."
"It's alright—" I begin, palms up, and Ellie blows a raspberry before, "Uh…where is that?"
He gives her a stern look, and a whole conversation seems to pass through their eyes, something along the lines of You caused this mess, you clean it up.
"Riiight…okay. C'mon." Ellie says to me, slipping off the wall and leading me back through the streets to the back center (I have no idea where that is, by the way).
Following her, I glance across the street to see if Mitzy's still there. Apparently not, and I trudge along.
"And the booths should—Ellie?" Maria's face of surprise is priceless, and Ellie walks up to her, no trouble. Tommy glances our way, and Ellie motions for me to come up.
"Maria, meet…Maria." How does she know my name? Oh wait…the booth. Ah.
Maria glances at Ellie, and Tommy chuckles, "I assume the ice cream was your doing?"
"Joel wanted me to get her cleaned up because she lives far away." Ellie gives a shrug to this, and I'm about to fume. I'm right here, you dunce. I can speak for myself.
Maria nods, and then leads Ellie and I into the small kitchen, "There's a sink over there, and I'll get some towels." With this she leaves, and I feel myself giving a mental sigh.I'm fourteen, I can walk back home, it's ICE CREAM, not POISON.
But nonetheless Maria returns with towels, and I work on scrubbing the ice cream from my hair, face, and my assaulted arm and leg.
"So, Maria," I glance up from where I hunch over my leg, "how old are you?"
"Fourteen." I reply, and Maria nods. Then she gestures to Ellie, "So is Ellie."
"I'm about to turn fifteen." Ellie says quickly, and Maria chuckles. "Not for a month or two."
Ellie crosses her arms over her chest, and I return the towel to the counter, "Thanks for the help."
Ellie nods, and Maria goes on, "You two should get together sometime. Maybe at a community movie night?"
Those…us teens make fun of those. They're where the adults project movies onto the screen, often old animated Disney or Pixar classics, and all the kids ooh and aah while we try not to bust out laughing in the shadows, nudging and poking each other from the hoods of abandoned cars.
I can't let Maria know this, though, and instead nod, "Yeah. That seems like fun."
Ellie makes a noise at this, and Maria gives me a smile, "Excuse us for a second, will you?"
With this, she takes Ellie's upper arm and walks her out. I wait until they're a safe distance away until I move away from the counter, moving to the doorway and letting my fingers curl around the worn wooden post before peering out.
"Ellie, you've been here almost for a month. Don't you think you need some interactions with the other kids?"
"Thanks for the help Maria, but my 'friends' aren't living any more. I'd really not to add to that list."
"Ellie—" She pulls away from Maria's grasp, but Maria takes a step forward, "You're safe here, I promise."
Ellie tenses at the language, and smoothes it over at the last second so Maria doesn't see. I pick it up though, and finally Ellie relents.
Maria makes her look her in the eyes, "All Joel wants for you is to be happy here. Why not try to hang out with the other kids? Go eat ice cream, play a few videogames. If not for me, then for him."
Ellie opens her mouth, her eyebrows narrowed as to really tell Maria off, then she looks away and lets the expression drop, not meeting her eyes, "I'll…try."
Maria gives her a smile, but she doesn't see. I slip back into the room, and in a few seconds they reappear, Ellie giving one of the worst smiles possible. It almost makes me laugh, and I can see she's doing it deliberately, to fool Maria and tease me.
"I'm sure Joel is probably wondering where we went, so we're gonna head back." Ellie says, and I give a smile to Maria, "It was nice to meet you."
She nods back, and follows out of the center. Tommy glances at us, and then, "Ellie?"
"Yeah?"
"We're mucking out horse stables at five." Tommy gives her a wink, and Ellie's smile grows realer, truer, "Really?"
"Yeah. Don't forget your boots." Ellie nods to this, and I give a wave. Maria comes to Tommy's side and I assume she's going to fill him in on me. That tall kid.
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A few minutes later and Joel stands up to greet Ellie. She says upon arrival, "Tommy's mucking out stables at five."
"Gonna go see Callus Jr.?" Joel asks, and Ellie nods, "Yup."
"Still think that's a stupid name for a horse." Joel remarks, and Ellie elbows him, "What would you have named him?"
Joel gets stuck on this question, then gives a smile and nod to me, "Sorry we didn't make introductions beforehand. I'm Joel."
"Maria." I say, sticking out my hand for the second time today. He shakes it, and then Ellie gives a smile to me, remembering Maria's words, "I'll see you at the community movie night, then."
"Right. I'm going to head home." With this I give a little smile and wave. As Ellie and Joel turn away, I catch a bit of their conversation.
"I'm glad to see you making friends." Joel says. Ellie pauses, and then, "Yeah."
Another long pause, and then, "Are you really going to make me muck out the stalls?"
I can hear Joel's laughter, and then a faint, "Yes I am, baby girl."
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Flopping down onto my brother's bed in his room, "Did you get the PS3?"
He nods, focused on drifting and changing gears with the little plastic buttons, "Avery says you can head over to his house if you still want to play on the xBox. He's working on...ah, I can't remember the name."
I can come over to his house...uh, ha-ha, nope. I think to myself, crossing my legs as I watch him play. After a few minutes, "Can I play?"
Mikey gives me a look, but hands me the controller nonetheless, pointing to the little buttons, "Here's the gas. That's the brake, and that's to switch gears...don't press that button. This is for going in reverse, and that's to change camera angles."
I nod, "Got it." Glancing at the white with blue stripes Lamborghini on the screen, I press the gas button.
"Hit the brake!" Mikey calls out, as I spin out and hit the sides on a turn. I begin laughing, then reverse, "Alright, alright, take two."
I increase the speed gradually, trying to impress my brother that I can, indeed, drive this car on this new system. Then another turn comes and screws me over, and I begin laughing once more after trying to shut myself up.
"You are hopeless." Mikey says, but he's smiling. I give him a good shove with my foot as he leans back on the bed, "Yeah, yeah, say what you want."
After a good twenty minutes of him sighing at my incompetence as I view it as funny and laugh, Mom calls us for help with dinner downstairs.
Mikey pauses the game and I roll off the bed and onto my feet, running down the carpeted stairs to her voice. Mom gives me a smile, "Hey, how was the art show?"
"It was good. They had ice cream there."
"What'd you get?" Mom asks, and the day's events come crashing back into my mind. I give a grin to myself as I begin to shuck the corn, "Strawberry. It was pretty good."
I also got it all over me. I think to add, remembering, Thanks, Ellie.
But I don't say anything more. After a few minutes of shucking the corn, "Mom?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you know when the next community night is?"
Mom pauses, thinking hard, "Tommy said something about it...maybe a few days from now. Why do you ask?"
"Oh nothing." I pause, moving on to the third and last piece of corn. "Just...wondering."
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Late that night, lying on my side with my headphones on and music blasting, I think back to Mitzy and the runner painting.
"They all look the same in the end." "True that, kid."
Why had I said that?
Thinking back to the painting, I squeeze my eyes shut as if to disperse the image from my brain. I hear the gargled shouts through the music drowning in my ears, and my eyes flash open as I search my room with light from Felix. Placing two fingers on my throat, I feel my pulse racing.
I'm safe. I think, but I know that nightmares will await me as I drift into unconscious, my mind's own little hell.
You're safe. I remind myself, trying to think of happy times and thoughts, like playing videogames with Mikey and meeting Ellie and Joel and how nice and soft my bed is with its blankets and pillow and knowing Mikey has a gun in his top drawer, Mikey has a gun in his top drawer and he can shoot down anything in sight without a second thought.
Without a second thought, without a second thought I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe, no nightmares tonight, I've convinced myself and it is fine.
Ha ha...
Psych.
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Community movie nights are amusing for us older kids. We make fun of the movies and the reactions of the little ones and dare one another to run in front of the projector until the adults yell at us. That part is scary for a second, and then the person returns and we all bust out in chortles.
Mikey escapes to his friends within the first few minutes of arriving, taking a spot on the rusting shell of an abandoned car. I have to look for Ellie, of course, and find her standing off with Joel to the side.
She's wearing that faded grey long-sleeve under a red t-shirt, and jean shorts with black Converses. I can tell she's anxious by the way she keeps pulling the long sleeve over her fingers time and time again and commenting to Joel nervously.
I keep a smile on my face and my tone light as I walk up to them, "Hi, Ellie."
"Hey, Maria." She gives a shy wave back, which strikes me as unlikely. Then I gesture back to the cars, "That's where I'm sitting, if you want to join."
"Will do. Joel, I'll, uh…"
"Meet me back at Tommy's house when it's done." Joel says, and Ellie nods. He puts his hands in his pockets, watching all the little kids get set up on the grass, "Movies just aren't my thing."
I lead Ellie back to the group of teens, and introduce her, "Guys, this is Ellie. She's…uh…fourteen."
"Hi." Ellie says cheerfully, and Mikey deadpans, "Look, Maria finally found a friend."
Laughter choruses through the group and my face feels hot. Thank goodness for the dim lighting. Ellie takes a spot on the solid roof of a car, and I sit beside her.
"He seems like a jerk." She murmurs, gesturing to my brother. I shake my head, "Mikey's not…usually. He's my brother."
Her face reddens in the dim light (shoot, so everyone did see me blush), and I quickly add, "Don't worry. He doesn't care about my opinion all that much."
Ellie nods, and I glance at her rolling her hands up in her long sleeves again, rubbing them on her knees, "Aren't you hot?"
As if on instinct, she shakes her head, "No…I don't get hot too easily."
"Hmm." I murmur, taking that into consideration. The movie starts up, and everyone silences.
It's something about talking bears, animated and as sweet as it gets. Ready to crack a joke about it, I glance over at Ellie.
Her lime green eyes are wide, her mouth slightly opening in a smile, taking in the screen and the characters and the animations just as much as the little kids are. It occurs to me that us older kids have been spoiled and all, because over the course of however long we've been here, we've seen almost all the movies this place has to offer.
Unlike a usual night, which would involve a lot of side-commenting from us and snickering and elbowing and nudging, I lean back on my hands, gazing at the screen and trying to put myself in Ellie's shoes, taking in the movie as if it's my first time seeing moving pictures across the screen.
And I begin to smile as well.