A Matter of Time

by Ducibus

Meet me, fifteen years old and living in a cordyceps-raged era in a hydroelectric plant. Meet this auburn-haired chick with a unknown history who just arrived. Meet her guardian and mentor, the brother of one of the leaders of the dam. I'd say come and join us on this adventure...but you're already doing it.

10. I Used to Have a Sister

I remember long ago that post I made in July where I had my arm freshly broken and thinking that "Oh, well, it can't be bad."
July 30th I went in for surgery to have it repaired (5-inch metal rod, 3 screws, and a plate).
August 11th I had stitches taken out.
Last week I had my first physical therapy session to work on getting all of my range of motion back. Fun, right? But my hand still works great for typing and writing, so it doesn't suck complete ass.

I should stop making promises about updating and all XD I'm sorry, I love you guys for sticking around and not being like, "shit she sucks at updating". I'll make a deal though. Unlike last year where I completely ditched it, I'll try to update during the school year. And maybe some new projects. Because sophomore year of school just started as well. Yay...?

So I'll just leave you with this little nugget of 5.5K words and go finish Latin homework (*cough, cough* start it) Thanks again for all the support and views! More and more favorites and followers are coming every time I check my email! Aye! It's awesome!

Ellie and I don't spend every minute together joined at the hip. We're alone, separated, kept that way until the other decides to make a change. It's nice not to be so dependent on a person, but still be just as close. Plus...her surprise sickness keeps everyone at bay. I still manage to sneak into the house, but it's scary with the looming threat of Joel patrolling the area.

Jamie casts her line into the pond with a freshly dug worm on the end. She turns to me with a big smile on her face, "I'm gonna catch an alligator!"

"That'd be fun to see." I return the grin and go back to threading a worm on my homemade hook. There's something about having an overzealous seven-year-old by your side to give a new perspective on your life.

Jamie lives with her grandparents in one of the smaller houses. It's a touchy subject to ask about her parents, but I'm assuming it's what's happened to all of us. Dead of infection, starvation, dehydration, frostbite-the list, terrifyingly, goes on and on.

I cast my line out into the pond and sit cross-leggedly, patiently waiting for a nibble and seeing if Jamie's growing frustrated at the prospect of waiting. But unlike the other children, she's pretty patient.

"There's something pulling!" She cries out, holding her fishing pole with two hands, the line taut and curved. I pull out my own, roll onto my feet, and stand behind her, moving her hands to the reel, "Reel it in!"

"Too heavy!" Jamie replies, struggling just to churn the knob. I take the fishing pole from her small hands and reel it in. There's certainly something on the end of the line, and I roll the slick reel back, "You think it's stuck under a rock?"

"It can't be a rock!" Jamie says in defiance, hands curled into fists by her sides. "We can't eat a rock!"

Her argument makes me smile, and I tell her, "Get the bucket ready."

With one final pull I pull a catfish from the glossy depths of the pond, Jamie holding the bright orange bucket as I carefully place the fish inside. She lets the bucket slip to the ground, and the catfish sloshes around in the water inside. I kneel, pulling out my knife in case I have to cut the hook out.

"Oh look, it's my favorite girls." Ellie croons, coming to join us, and I keep my eyes on the fish, "We're the only girls you know."

"Ah, I don't know, I'm pretty fond of the ones on my chest."

"Might I remind you that there's a child here?!" I finally turn to face her, and she's wearing a striped tank top, bite wrapped by her side.

Jamie giggles at our bantering, and finally I turn to look at Ellie, squinting my eyes at her, "I don't know who you're referring to. I can't see anything on your chest."

"You-!"

I laugh and then go back to wrangling with the catfish. It seems like it wants to put up a fight, and finally I squeeze it by the gills, slip the hook out of its mouth, and drop it back into the bucket.

Jamie turns to Ellie, pointing to the bite on her side, "What's that?"

"Crocodile bite."

Jamie's jaw drops open, and before Ellie or I can say anything, "That's so COOL!"

I let myself smile, then hand the rod back to Jamie, with a fresh worm threaded onto the hook, "You're not done fishing, are you?"

"No!" And she grasps the rod firmly and throws the line back into the water. Ellie stands between the two of us, glancing out at the pond, and I can't help but ask, "You okay?"

"Just dandy."

I raise my eyebrows, but decide not to question more. Then I pull my line in surreptitiously, wary of the hook, and lay it down on the grass. Ellie doesn't notice as I go back a few feet, and then I sprint, putting my hands palm-up in the small of her back and launching her into the water, "BONSAI!"

"YOU ASS-!" And the rest of her curse is lost as she's thrown into the water, the liquid drowning out the rest of her words. I can barely stand as I laugh hard, crouching by the edge of the water, arms crossed over my stomach as I fight to catch my breath.

"Jamie, care to help?" Ellie asks as she pops up and breaks the surface, and my eyes go wide, "You wouldn't."

"Try me. Now," she turns back to face Jamie, "if you would just give her a push..."

Jamie eagerly pulls in and abandons her line as I curl my hands in the grass, not about to let a kid with a weight difference of 100 or so pounds below push me off. But as I turn to face her as she struggles to shove me into the water, throwing her whole body weight against mine, a hand wraps around the collar of my shirt and pulls me into the water, me turning to face Ellie's smirk before I hit the murky liquid.

I break the surface easily, almost standing, and that's when Ellie jumps onto my shoulders, pulling me back down again, not before I let out a fake-cry to Jamie, "Send help!" She only giggles and claps her hands on the side of the pond.

Underwater, I let my eyelids open, the water not transparent but not completely opaque. Ellie's hand is curled once again in my shirt front, and suddenly she gives a pull and our lips meet and we're back to kissing again, my hand moving to the back of her neck for just a second. But I release as we both break the surface again, her face expressionless except a noticeable red tinge to her cheeks.

"Jamie! Get your ass in here!" Ellie calls, clapping her hands, and Jamie shakes her head, "No!"

"I'm gonna count to three." I add, grinning before beginning, "One, two-" "Okay!" And her little legs run her off the edge to Ellie, Ellie holding her by the ribs as she hits the water so the kid won't drown.

"C'mon, kiddo! Swim!" I call for encouragement, and Jamie, held up by Ellie, swats the water with her hands and kicks it hesitantly. Ellie can't help but grin, "You look like a cat."

Jamie gives her a look before I stand up in the water, "Swim to me, then, little cat."

"I'm not a cat!" She cries out, but manages to wrench out of Ellie's grasp. Instincts take hold and she's pounding the water, not stroking it with hesitancy, but kicking with her whole legs and using her entire arm to keep her at the surface.

When she makes it over to me, I crouch and let her crawl onto my back, arms wrapped around my neck in a piggyback stance.

Then I stand up straight, holding her legs to my side, "I believe a cannon ball is in order."

"No!" Jamie squeals, burying her face into my back, and I laugh, walking out of the pond and onto the bank.

"On my mark. One, two—" I lose interest in Ellie's coating and instead sprint off as fast as I can to as close as she is. I douse her as Jamie and I plunge to the bottom of the pond.

"Assclown." Ellie spits at me as all three of us break the surface. Jamie giggles at the curse word, and I glare at her, "Again, children."

"That didn't stop you from making fun of my chest."

"Well, yes. Because if you make a joke about something that doesn't exist, you don't offend anyone."

"Jamie, drown her, please."

Jamie attempts to pull me down by the neck, arms wrapped tight as she leans back, but the effort's futile until Ellie jumps, putting her hands on my shoulders, and pushing me straight down into the pond. I go down laughing and end up with a mouthful of pond water, which Ellie figures is a good enough punishment.

(-_-(-_-( -_- )-_-)-_-)

"School is starting soon."

"I know." Ellie's eyes don't move from her Starlight Savage comic, held above her head as she lies on her back by the rope swing. The summer itself has been successful, with video games and such under our belts.

"But, Ellie, school is starting soon." I try to make my voice go as deep as it can, and the effort is rewarded when she eyes me upside down, narrowing her lime green eyes, "F—k off."

"Fiesty." I deadpan, then, on my stomach and propped up by elbows, I wiggle my way closer. So close that I'm hovering over her, my nose almost touching the curve of the comic book, a big grin evident on my face.

"So when I tell you to 'f—k off', you take it as an invitation?" She questions, her face and expression hid behind the faded title page.

"Yus."

"Can't you make some more girlfriends and stop pestering me?" I know she's teasing, but I pretend to pout, driving my chin to the spine of the book and taking it to her forehead, "No."

She tries to seem startled, but muffled laughter comes from under the book, "Can you lift your chin?"

"I thought you wanted me to eff off."

"Assclown." Now it's my turn to laugh, and I finally lift my chin from the comic, letting her place it on the ground beside her.

Ellie looks at me and I look down at her, both of us with goofy grins, then I let my chin fall once more for a quick peck. Okay, maybe it's not entirely a quick peck. Y'all don't need to know. Weirdos.

When I pull up after a moment or so, she sighs, "You need to learn how to shoot a gun."

"Do I need to kill someone? Do you have a black list?" I tease, rolling onto my knees and then onto my feet, dusting off the dirt sticking to my legs.

"Actually," Ellie holds her hand out to me and I walk around, taking it and pulling her up, "it's so you can finally defend yourself."

"Yay! You care about me!"

Again, her face goes red, and she settles for slugging me on the shoulder, "Again, assclown."

And as Ellie and I walk away from the rope swing, I know exactly why she's teaching me. The reason itself hangs in the air and waits for someone to call it out, to grab it and claim it. And it's so obvious to me that I don't have to pester her more.

Real reason she wants me to learn? So I don't lose you.

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)

Earbuds tucked away in the niches of my ears, finger resting easy on the trigger, "Go for it."

I give a look to Ellie, whose arms are crossed over her chest. She gestures with a cock of her head, almost condescending, C'mon, kiddo. Let's shoot a gun now.

So I take a deep breath, keep both eyes open, and then drop the gun as soon as I put pressure on the trigger, "Shit!"

"What was that?" Ellie's voice holds more curiosity than anger, and I shrug, "I—I'm sorry, it's just—"

She crosses around me and takes the fallen gun, putting it back into my hands, "It's not that hard."

I try again, only to have the same outcome. Ellie sighs, but I know her patience isn't truly being tested.

"Alright, Maria," and she stands behind me, putting the gun once more in my more-than-reluctant fingers, overlapping her calloused hands over my own, "I'll do the work."

I feel pressure running through her fingers, about to be transferred to mine, and that's when I lose it, a little voice from years past crying out against my will, "Please…please don't make me shoot."

"What the hell is going on?!" Okay, now her patience is being tested. I blink hard and face her with a glare, "I just don't want to shoot, okay?"

"Why not?!"

I narrow my eyes, "Why do you want me to learn so damn badly?"

"Because…because—"

I latch onto her stutter and shoot back, "You don't even know why."

"Because if I lost you or Joel or Maria or Tommy I will lose my f—king mind." Her voice, cold like snow, and almost as silent, rings out in sync with her glare.

There's the reason. Small victory? I don't want to say as much. And Ellie arches her arms and elbows in a questioning position, "And I don't know what the hell it is with you, but there sure as hell is something you haven't told me."

"Get me out of this town."

Her face loses its intensity as confusion comes into play again, "What?"

"Get me out of this town and I will tell you."

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)

I hold the fence open for Ellie as she steps through, and then she gestures to the pickup in front of us, "Here's the vehicle where shit went down between me and Joel."

Ellie takes another step closer to the truck, "And here's where it will go down between you and me."

She pulls out the rusty back of the truck and I hop into the bed, her following behind. We lie down and gaze up at the orange sunset sky.

You too should be listening. I hate repeating myself.

"I used to have a baby sister." Already I can feel the tears bubbling up, and my chest swelling painfully. But I force myself to keep talking, "Her name was Rachel. She died when she was four, back when we used to live in the city."

The photography I talk about? With my brother and I in the arms of a soldier? Mom was pregnant with Rachel behind the camera. And the soldier was my father. I didn't want to tell you all that. I wanted to leave him nameless for a while.

"It was my responsibility to look after her. I was the older sister, I should've been able to do that, right?"

Ellie stays quiet. It's a good decision, and the tears begin coming out of my eyes. Again I force myself to keep my voice level.

"Rachel had a sleepwalking problem. We shared a room and bed; I didn't think much of it on the night she died." Ellie reaches for my hand and gives a squeeze, a silent support through it all.

"She managed to get out of the little townhouse where we lived. And she slipped through the back door or something; I—I don't really remember the details well.

"Rachel tripped off the curb, skinning her knees and hands. She was sleepwalking, she wasn't thinking, and she opened up her mouth and started wailing."

She wasn't thinking she wasn't thinking she wasn't thinking. That's what I always tell myself.

"And the clickers heard her before we did." I lose it again and I press a hand to my face and hold it there as the sobs bubble up, thinking of the night, thinking of the screams I heard from my bedroom, thinking it was a cat or something silly. Something stupid and I remember my dad running outside faster than I ever saw him move and only then did I realize that half of our bed was missing. Half of the duo was gone.

"My dad took off running outside and grabbed her away from the clickers. He…he made it to the backyard." Ellie gives my hand another squeeze, and I keep my voice levee, fighting to maintain an even pitch.

"It was too late. She was shredded from the clickers. Bites everywhere. My dad could only hold her before she died." And then I'm six again, looking from the bedroom window as Dad rocks the body of my baby sister, my partner-in-crime, half of the duo broken and being cradled to death. Watching as my father lost it, holding her to his chest like the way a first-time father holds his newborn to his chest and makes a promise to never let them get hurt. Throwing myself on my bed and crying, kicking my legs against the mattress and holding a pillow to my face as I scream.

All I remember is seeing her glazed eyes and just thinking to myself she was sleepwalking. she would've run inside if she saw the clickers. she died without pain. she didn't feel anything. daddy can make her better.

And Daddy couldn't make her better, Daddy buried her in the yard under the moonlight, not about to let my mom see what was left. And Daddy walked up the stairs and yanked me from the bed where I sobbed and hugged me so tight that I thought I was going to suffocate, but finally I begin crying against his chest and he held me closer and kissed my forehead and kissed the crown of my hair, reminding himself that at least one of his little girls made it through the night.

And I remember him carrying me from bed and putting me in Mikey's room, Mikey a little too sleepy to react as I curled up next to him, squeezing my eyes shut as if that could erase the image of Rachel from my mind. And the bite on Dad's shoulder as he put me down.

"Dad got bit that night as well. Mom cried a lot after losing Rachel, but she didn't know about the bite. Neither did Mikey. And I knew, and I saw him getting sicker and sicker." An image finds itself in my mind, the puffiness of the bite, the swelling, the puss and boils, the heat radiating around it, the grimace the morning after Rachel's death when my dad got dressed in his fatigues and it scrapped the wound.

"You don't have to go on." Ellie manages, her voice thick, and I shake my head, "I told you I'd tell you once I got out of town."

She knows the end. Doesn't everyone, really? So I take a deep, shuddery breath, give her hand a squeeze, go on, "A night later he put a gun in my hand and took me in front of the house. Another dark night."

"He told me to shoot. Make it look like an accident. A citizen out after curfew. He wasn't in his fatigues to make it look more believable."

"Daddy." I'm pleading, almost in tears, "Please…please don't make me shoot."

"You can do it." He's sweating, practically panting with the infection running rampant. Tears stream down my face, "Why?"

"I want to go see Rachel, alright?"

"Why can't we all go?"

"Because you have to stay here with Mom and Mikey. You've gotta keep them on their toes, Maria."

"Make someone else shoot. Please."

"I know you can do it. You don't have to look. I'm not mad."

Covering my eyes with my hand, I let my trembling fingers spread to make a crack big enough to look through. The gun is shaking like crazy, and he gives me a smile, still trying to look healthy, "I love you."

Tears begin pouring out of my eyes, and I take a deep breath, "I love you too."

"See you later, kiddo." And that's when I pull the trigger and I drop to my knees in the street, squeezing my eyes shut and dropping the gun, the world too quiet for me with my sister and father gone.

And then I take the gun and run inside and throw myself onto my bed, burying the gun in Rachel's pillow and carefully placing it in the top rack of my closet, deep in the corner where no one would find it.

"So my mom never knew the truth. She just knows that he was shot by a soldier who didn't recognize him, and Mikey knows the same story. And that's why I don't like guns."

Two days and two nights and my family had dropped by two members.

I sit up in the bed of the truck and I cry, Ellie wrapping her arms around me and pressing my head to her shoulder, holding me so tight as I let loose everything those nine years have tried to make me forget. The stories and images and pictures that I had tried to shut out for so long.

It's only when I feel tears on my head do I realize she's crying as well, and she sniffles before, "Shit. I don't—I don't know what to say."

"Rarely anyone does." I reply through tears as they burn in the corners of my eyes where they pool. How painful and bitter they are.

"How old would Rachel be?"

"She would be thirteen." It's an odd thing I always keep track of. I can't imagine having a little sister after so many years without, but I'm sure if she was still around, I wouldn't be able to imagine life without her. How weird that way of thinking is.

"So...anything you want to tell me?" I ask, pulling away as we both sit in the bed of the truck.

Ellie shrugs, suddenly bashful (or is it shy?), "Well, nothing to the same pain you've gone through."

"Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Never use your struggles to make someone feel inferior about their own."

She manages a grin, "Good quote."

Then there's a sigh, some hesitancy, and I add, "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"No. You told me, so I'll tell you. There's...a reason I didn't come out to you sooner." She faces her fingers, playing with them and twiddling her thumbs.

"It's not so much about Riley. It's...okay, how do I explain this. Last winter, Joel and I got separated, and this...man...kinda took me under his wing."

"Protectively or provocatively?"

"The second one."

"Ellie." And her head snaps up, and I give a shrug, "You don't need to feel embarrassed about what happened."

"Yeah, but it's...you did something greater. You tried to protect your family from what happened. I just...I..." She breaks off and wipes her eyes. "Look, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Joel told me what happened."

Her head snaps up once more, heels of her hands by her eyes, "R-really?"

"Yeah. David, right? You talked about him in your sleep once...or twice. Joel was pretty shaken up when he heard you were having nightmares."

"Huh. That's Joel for you." She manages a grin, "Makes it a little easier for me."

"But...what happened to you is pretty shitty too." I go on, and Ellie shrugs.

"I think 'pretty shitty' is a genre of life we're both pretty experienced in." Ellie remarks, and I nod.

"If anything I do makes you nervous, tell me, alright? It's perfectly fine to dream about me, since I'm blessed with sexiness, but nightmares are another thing."

"You might just be the most vain person I have ever met."

I grin, "Aw, shucks, thanks."

"Maria?"

"Yah?"

"Thanks."

"Ditto."

Then we curl our fingers around the edge of the truck, looking out to the setting sun, both of our eyes rimmed with red.

I find her hand and hold it, and she gives a squeeze in return.

"Your birthday's coming soon."

"It is." She grins. "That's something I'm looking forward to."

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)

I don't know how I manage not to screw over the chocolate frosting completely. I don't even know what frosting is. Add it to the pretty shitty genre list: not knowing what frosting it. On the bright side it tastes pretty damn delicious.

A cake. I've heard of them but never actually seen it. The batter is delicious though. I don't know how Maria threw all this shit into a pot and had it come out like this, but I'll give credit to science or whatever it is.

"Tommy, I swear to God, if you take another swipe of that icing, I will smack the crap out of you." Maria threatens him, and he pops his finger out of his mouth, seemingly innocent, "Wut?"

There's a knock at the door and I leave my spot at the kitchen table, opening the door to Mitzi and Joel, "We fixed up the guitar."

It looks so much more amazing than I thought it was going to turn out. The strings shined and polished, the design of the nebulas, pinks and blues and purples and reds bright on the black wood.

Joel gives me a real smile, full of gratitude and thankfulness, and I try my best to return it.

"Would you all sit down?" I know Maria's being fussy just for the sake of it. She nags us all before calling up the stairs, "Ellie! Come down here please!"

"Oh shit, big moment." Mizti nudges me, and I elbow her in the ribs, "Shut up."

"Tell me how it goes with your girlfriend." She gives me a wink before slipping out the door and closing it behind her. Will I ever figure her shipping us together or nah?

And before I know it, as we settle around the table, Ellie's down the steps, dressed in clothes I've probably seen her wear many times before, but now she looks prettier. Not prettier. More beautiful. Because I understand her better. I know her a little better. And it's the fact that she trusted me that makes her that way as well. I wonder how I look to her.

"Aw, shucks, y'all shouldn't have done this." She teases in a fake Southern accent, and then throws her arms around Joel, "Thank you!"

"Happy birthday." He says softly, the guitar placed behind me in an attempt to hide it.

Ellie gives hugs to everyone else, and then eyes me, "Really? You're sitting down?"

"I did hurt my ankle a while back because of you being such a dumbass." I reply, then rolls onto my feet, letting her fly at me and squeezing her hard, "Happy birthday, you beeyotch."

"Yeah, yeah, assclown." Luckily the adults don't pick up on our curses (although I doubt they'd object), and we all take seats around the table, Maria cutting and dishing out the cake. It tastes like the best thing I've ever had. One of them, at least. There's still many years to go...at least, there better be.

"Wow." Ellie remarks after the first bite. "I do not want anything out of cans again."

I grin and offer my hand for a high-five, "Preach it, sistah."

There's silence as we all enjoy our cake, and before Ellie can take her last bite, "Make a wish!"

She pauses, fork halfway to her open mouth, then she places it on the table, trying to think thoughtfully. I give her a wink and she kicks me under the table. Then she grabs her fork again and shoves the last of her slice into her mouth, "May it come true."

And then the adults move out to the front porch and us to the street, where I toss Ellie her skateboard and take my own, "C'mon. I'll teach you some tricks."

We tear up and down the street on the boards, me attempting to teach her simple Ollie's and 180's. It usually ends up with one of us on the ground and the other one trying not to piss themselves laughing. I don't want summer to end by any means, just this infinite time of us doing whatever the hell we want, but it's a part of the cycle.

Ellie pushes off of her skateboard, gaining the upper hand, and I push off just as fast, zooming after her, about to let loose a cry before I pass her, throwing my arms up in the air with a passion, "Suck it!"

"Assclown!" She calls after me, and I laugh.

(-_-(-_-(-_-)-_-)-_-)

And the presents are a success, the guitar being her favorite thing, squeezing me and Joel together in a big group hug, thanking us. The rest of the night is still spent on the front porch, Joel teaching her different chords, Maria and Tommy talking and teasing and occasionally shoving the other one. I'm just glad to be a part of it all.

Finally Maria lets loose a yawn and takes Tommy's hand, "I'm hitting the sack. 'Night, y'all. Happy birthday, Ellie." She kisses the top of her hair before Tommy ruffles it, and then the two are off.

Joel glances at me, "Your mom gonna be worried?"

"Nah. Told her I was gonna be home late."

"Geez, Joel, you're always trying to put her home early." Ellie teases, and Joel pretends to be in mock shock, "Me? I never."

"I call BS." Ellie goes on, and Joel shrugs, "I'm beat. Practice those chords and frets, m'kay?" He stands up and claps her on the knee, then leans over and ruffles my hair, "Not trying to get rid of you, Maria."

I grin and then he's left the porch. That's when I pull my gift out from my pocket, "Wasn't sure when to give you this. The tape was busted, though."

And I hold out the Walkman, complete with a working pair of earbuds, a promise from so long ago, "Happy birthday."

She takes it, letting her focus from the guitar fall, holding it as if she's afraid to damage it. Then she brings her eyebrows together, "You said the tape was busted, though."

"Yeah. So I, y'know, made you a new one."

I swear her grin's gonna pop off of her face, and she narrows her eyes at me, "Really?"

"Yup. Hard as hell to figure out, but Mikey got it to work."

And I don't know why, but suddenly I feel chills running up and down my spine. What's the phrase? Someone walking on my grave?

Don't let me die. I pray to something greater, something bigger, not God, but not to nobody either. Because I see Ellie so happy with her gifts and with me and with her family that I don't want it to shatter.

You'll say I've lost more. I'll say that it doesn't matter. The past will drown you if you let it. So push on forward. Try to lessen the damage you leave. What sucks more than dying is doing so without closure.

"Thanks." Ellie says, and I nod, rolling onto my feet, pocketing my hands into my oversized hoodie, "Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."

"What's wrong?" Her eyebrows draw together once more, and I shrug, "Nothing, why?"

"Because you just did a full 180. What's going on?"

"I don't want you to worry about me."

Her eyes widen, and then realization dawns on her, "You...Maria, I never meant to make you feel pressure to stay alive."

"What if I don't? What if I die and then you're all alone?"

"Then I'll make it through it. It'll suck ass as it always does, but I won't lose my shit entirely." She places the guitar on the chair and comes to me, "C'mon. It's my birthday. Let's not think of depressing shit."

"Well, if that's your wish." I grin, and she takes my hand, "I vote tonight, upon the premise that it's close to my birthday but pretty much my birthday, we play a shitload of video games at your house and take the cake with us."

I laugh, and the nod, "Okay. Fine."

(-_-(-_-(-_)-_-)-_-)

And when I wake up the next morning, Ellie sleeping in my bed like she always does (nothing kinky you pervs), I can't help but feel chills again. Because what if it's not me who's going to die, but her?

What the hell would I do then?

I guess my expression must be a dead-giveaway, because she only has to crack open one lime eye to catch sight of my face and grin, "Stop worrying. C'mon."

I smile back, then bring the blanket up to our shoulders, curling an arm under my head as always, closing my eyes, not quite tired but not ready to get up yet.