Authors Note: Hello :) Just want to thank those that have left feedback, followed and favourited - it's much appreciated! Here is the second chapter.
Chapter Two - A Gun, A Knife, A Lamp
"Hello?" I can't help but be the cliché woman that calls out, hoping for some form of life to return the sentiment. I feel the draft through my gown and clutch the cardigan tighter around my form as I progress down the road. I pick up a rucksack and eye the bottle of water strapped to the side. I quickly disassemble it from its place, and throw the bag back down and hastily remove the cap, applying the bottle to my lips and jugging down its contents like a woman possessed. After I finish it, I feel my throat is much better thanks to this, god knows how long I've been without water. As I see my hands, pale and thin, I comprehend that it must have been a while. I then hear the noise of my stomach, forcing me to look through the same bag for something to consume. I eat some chocolate, ripping the wrapper off in quick succession and devour it greedily. Fuck I needed that.
"Christ." Once I've had enough to make me feel better and yet notably sick, I reassess my environment. I'm not that far from my house, it's perhaps a ten minute walk, fortunately. I pick up the bag, seeing how it contains more drink and edible products, which I would hate to go to waste. Once it is on my back, I clutch the handles and move on, heading down the street, my eyes constantly looking at everything in sight. I see houses with broken windows, or doors left wide open, with grass blemished with red, which forces me to glance away and to acknowledge something else, because it bewilders me to even contemplate what substance it could be. It takes me more than ten minutes, and perhaps it's because of being out of shape and considerably fragile, but I eventually make it to my road. I turn my head when I believe that I see something at a distance, a form of some sort, but there is nothing when I aim my sight in the direction. After feeling content to continue, I turn away and head on. I see the house first, and then the door. I used to hate the bright yellow, like it was trying too hard to be alternative, but now, it's such a blessing I feel like I'm about to cry on the spot. It's so reassuring to be met with something familiar in such a strange place. I look down the street and see something move, but it is so far away that I can't focus. I turn to look at the house and then back down to the road, debating my next move. It takes a further moment before I resign to my original plan and head home, shuffling my slipper clad feet along the pavement.
The door is locked. My hands instantly go to my sides based on instinct, but I find no pockets to hold my key, nor any remains of who I am. I sigh, and for the first time since being here, feel like I'm a stranger to my own home. I look under the plant bot and find the spare key; mother always did have the most imaginative hiding places. After some force, I enter the premise with yet another sigh, closing the door softly behind me. I place the key down onto the side and look around the hallway, not entirely sure where to go from here. It seems so normal, like if I were to call out right now or walk into the kitchen, I'd hear and see my mum. If only to reinforce this, I feel more than hear myself call out to her softly.
Nothing.
I move into the lounge and drop the rucksack to the floor, almost as if in slow motion, as it hits me like a wall of bricks just how immobile and quiet it is, how very discerning it is to be in a place that used to inhabit such occupants that annoyed the hell out of me. People that would continuously talk, touch and just be there, overriding my senses. I never realised how much I could miss it, how much I do miss them. I miss how mum would bombard me with feeling, with wisdom and culture. I miss how Cook would laugh and look at me with such mirth that proved so contagious. I miss Effy with that smile that she would show us, because we were special; we were a family. Now, I have no idea where they are. Are they even alive? How did this happen? How could this happen? Where are they? Christ, everything has turned to shit.
My body collapses to the sofa, unable to carry myself a minute longer. The weight of this situation takes me down until I can barely breathe, the gravity of everything seemingly exhausting me once more. I find myself kicking off the slippers and curling up once again, this time on the fashionably uncomfortable couch, waiting for my eyes to inevitably close.
"Please.. What's going on.. Let this be a dream."
It's not a dream, and I find myself waking up in the middle of the night, the curtains drawn open to reveal a hollow world outside - lifeless like this house. I stand up and close the curtains, perhaps out of habit, perhaps because I cannot bare to see no light staring back at me, and it frightens me. I move around the house, lighting up several candles as I go, once again out of habit. Mum always prefers to use eco-friendly methods, and tries to use minimal electricity if she can help it, even though she damn well loves her tea and as a result boils the kettle more times than she would deem acceptable if it was anyone else doing it. I feel the heart shaped void in my chest, it throbs a dull rhythm, longing for it to be restored. Once I have enough visibility I pick up the rucksack and open it, analysing the contents, I take out a bottle of water, noting how 3 more remain. I then pick up some more wrapped goodies, though obviously this person held no healthy diet.
I chew into the chocolate, feeling distinctly indifferent to this food, as my eyes focus on a certain frame that stands on a cabinet across from me in the room. It taunts me at eye level, showing me the world I adore, and ultimately took for granted, and which evidently has been taken away from me. I swallow hard and lower the half eaten piece down to the coffee table, my eyes never once leaving the frame, the picture too important for me to turn away. I see the happy faces of my mum, of Effy, of Cook, and then of myself. It's a stark reminder yet again, and it serves to make me grimace, disconnecting my eyes finally, unable to take it anymore. As I blink away the tears that form, my eyes fall onto an empty frame that lies on the coffee table. I lean forward and pick it up, observing it. I then dart my eyes up to the frame across from me and then back to the empty frame in my hands: the photo that once reside in this frame was my mother's favourite, it was of me and her when I was younger, back when I wasn't so much of a bitch. My hands stroke the frame, a sense of hope filling me. If this has been taken, then I know that she is alive. She is out there.
She has to be, they all have to be.
I wake up on the couch and see the room illuminating with light, fortunately due to the daylight. I turn my head to the curtains and note how coloured they are, attempting to keep the brightness out. I sit up, feeling a lot better having rested. A yawn escapes as I then stand up, my eyes looking around the room. On closer inspection, I see how little ornaments and possessions are missing, which once again instils me with belief that they are okay, that whatever has happened, they have managed to escape it – together. Yet as I move out of the lounge, an overwhelming sense of dread fills me. What if one of those bags I passed was one of theirs? What if they didn't make it? What if.. I just need answers. I need to find someone. I need to know what's going on.
I walk up the stairs and enter all the rooms one by one, leaving my own until last. I note the dishevel room of Effy's which speaks volumes, as she was an avid neat freak. I see that Patto the giraffe no longer sits on her bed and that certain belongings, like clothes and personal objects are gone. I recognise a similar pattern in Cook's room, but his room is always messy. I can't help the chuckle that escapes as I try to walk through his unkempt room full of crap. I notice the frame that once contained an image of all of us now lies bare on the unmade bed, and it continues to satiate me. I then find myself look around my mother's room, though I wouldn't know the first thing that would go missing in this room, so instead I pick up one her jumpers from floor and place it to my face, inhaling the scent.
"Mum.." It crushes me, this nostalgia for something I never knew that I could potentially miss. On some level I was aware of how lucky I was, that I had this dysfunctional yet beautiful set up – this family, but I never appreciated it like I know I could have. I can't help but think of moments where words were not spoken or hugs were not given. I can't help but reflect on how so many times sets of eyes looked at me, as if daring me to connect and just fucking be honest: to let go of control.. It's funny really, how the one attribute in which I appointed so much time to cultivating, has escalated to now being my only downfall. It's the realisation that I never truly had any control at all. And now all I'm left with is fear, and it swells around inside of me.
I eventually make it to my room, and it's exactly how I left it. This brings a bit of comfort, I suppose, but it's not enough to quill all the anxiety that burns underneath my skin. I move to pick up some clothes and change, taking care over my healing injury and finally getting rid of this disgusting gown which is full of filth. I slip into some shoes and feel infinitely better for wearing something familiar. I then move to pack some belongings and change of attire, because like hell I'm going to be staying here. I just know my family is out there, and I have to find them. Clearly staying here wasn't an option, and so it's not one for me either. I place necessities into a smaller bag than the rucksack down stairs, knowing that I can't take too much. Though, I could always just get a car, it seems like there's many out there. Maybe they don't work? Maybe it's some sort of apocalypse.. I shake my head to rid these absurd thoughts and continue to pack. Once satisfied, I take the bag downstairs and collect other things, noting how other obvious things like medical kit and bottled water is missing. As I move to leave the kitchen, I see something linger in the back garden. I take a step towards the little window and see the form of a person, whose back is to me. They just stand there, and I stand there, frozen.
Even though their clothes are dark, absorbed with dirt and holes, even though the person sways slightly, as if not in control of their form, even though there is something really wrong with the way the person is carrying themselves in general, I still find myself moving to the doorway and opening it gingerly. It's not a big garden, but it's big enough to move about and play football or something. The door continues to creek open, and it clearly disturbs the person, for they stop entirely.
"Hello…?" It's pitiful, it's bashful and it's full of optimism. It's barely a whisper, but it's clearly enough to rouse the person, because before I know it, they are turning around, and my world completely changes in that instant.
It doesn't matter that his ankle is broken, or that his eye is clearly dangling revoltingly from its hollow eye socket, because he's moving towards me with such vigor that I immediately slam the door shut in front of me. He arrives at the door a moment later, and though his actions are aggressive, his movement is slow. He crashes against the door, his face cracking the glass, and I can't help the sheer volume of my scream that escapes my very lips. The dried blood that cakes his body, the way his body moves slowly and yet with such intent, the way he looks so.. dead, and yet very much alive. Fuck. The way his expression is brutal, and yet so very deceased, I feel like I'm fighting with oxymoron's.
I turn on my heels and run down the hallway, only just thinking to grab the bags that sit there as I almost stumble over them. Before I can attempt to pick them up, he has broken through the door and made his way into the kitchen, staggering around and making weird guttural sounds. I pick up the lamp from the lounge that is positioned fortunately near the door way and throw it at him, which causes the man to tumble backwards and fall down. I then pick the bags up and flee the house; I drag the bags out, my eyes looking around for a vehicle to use. It's then that I see a couple bodies on the sidewalk, snarling and grunting and heading right over to me.
"Christ… What the FUCK IS GOING ON?!" I then see a car a couple metres away and jog to it. I look inside quickly and notice how it is empty. I throw the bags inside and close the back open doors as quickly as I can before I climb in behind the wheel, my eyes constantly looking back to the beings that seek me out. I notice how one of them is a girl, a little one at that. She looks normal in a dress until you notice her face, and how part of her skin is missing with dried blood. To the side of her is a man who is a bit faster than her, and whose arm is missing, but it does not deter him from heading straight for me, his dull eyes looking in my direction, and not entirely seeing me: yet wanting something from me. It's then that I notice that there is no key in the ignition, and I begin to panic.
"Fuck.. Fuck fuck. Jesus, I don't know how to jump start a car.. Where's Cook when you need him." I muse to myself until I feel rather than hear bodies collide with the car. I look outside of the window to my side and see the man, his face against the glass, his mouth wide to reveal his rotten teeth. I gag slightly, unable to tear my eyes away from this horrendous sight. I hear the girl slam against the passenger side, which forces me to look, and effectively catch sight of the other man from my back garden making his way out of my drive and to where I am. I am certain that this is the end, and I will never find the answers I seek. I will never find my family. I will never know what is going in, who these people have become. I close my eyes and will for it to just all be over.
I hear another blow and then an all-encompassing stillness, something I never thought I would want ever again after I woke up in that damn hospital – but it's welcomed, hell, it's invited. I open my eyes slowly, to see the man at my driver's side completely stop moving. It's then that another sound is made, and I register that it is of a blade being removed from his head. I watch the man drop to the ground, just collapsing like someone pressed an off switch, and in his place reveals guy – a very much alive and human guy. He smiles timidly at me, showing off his braces. It's only then that I notice how young he actually is, perhaps of a similar age to me, with wild curly hair. I then hear another sound, it's rather low but it's audible enough to catch my attention. I see the little girl fall down and another guy is revealed, wielding a pistol of some sort, with a silencer on the end of it. He smiles slightly at me and then moves away from the car to the man that was in my garden. He then stops and stands there, so I take in how rather tall he is with a mop of dark hair, seemingly experienced with this sort of thing. He holds the gun, aiming it at the man who continues to stumble towards us at a slow pace.
"Freddie?"
"It's okay, Jay." And just like that, another low but evident fire is made, and the man that once stood in my garden, now falls to the ground on this street – beginning a sequence of events that I could never foresee coming.
And that's it for now! I'm hoping to update again sometime this week. Thanks for reading!