Hi guys! So, the story will definitely be starting out a little slow at first. But as we get closer to '98, more momentum will pick up. They do have lives outside of zombies, and I hope I'm giving off an aura of their peace well enough to NOT bore people. I care a lot about this story and I hope everybody likes it.
I can't really give a particularly good A/N without giving anything away, SO...
Any questions, message/review!
Thanks for reading!
1990
Billy had never loved any girl before, and the experience was throwing him off completely. He spent all his time with her, spoiled her, and did whatever she wanted. He was completely whipped over Anna.
He loved everything about her. The way she clung to him when she came, the way she blushed when he kissed her in front of other people, the little laugh she made when he embarrassed her, how she wasn't afraid of him, her eyes, her hair, the way she smiled just thinking about him, and how she bit her upper lip in a gesture of distress when she was worried.
They were eighteen years old, old enough to know their minds. Or at least their hearts. He loved her so much, and knew how she felt about him.
He felt guilty that he'd never told her. He promised himself he would soon. Today was their one year anniversary, and he was excited. He felt like a pussy, but he loved her too much to care about anything else.
John commented on it, Charlene despised it, and everyone noticed it. Nobody expected them to even be together, let alone for so long and so happily. He ignored it all. Anna was all he needed. He didn't care about anyone else's opinion.
They were sitting upon a hideously ugly checkered blanket in the park. His grandparents had insisted on the event when his mother came home, and Billy had decided to invite Anna, since it was their anniversary anyway. He was supposed to take her out to dinner, but more time with her was all too appealing.
If anything, Anna had become more and more beautiful every day. Her hair was down to the middle of her back and shone in the midday sun, her smile was white and welcoming, framed by plump, pale lips. Her eyes were enormous, big enough for him to just stare into their depths for hours. Her body had slimmed down considerably as she had grown taller, but her delectable curves were still there, ripe and perfect. His grandparents loved her, his mother liked her…
He still hadn't met her parents yet, but Anna never saw them either. It didn't matter, because it meant when he was with her, he didn't have to worry about her father running in with a shotgun. Billy wasn't exactly the kind of guy every man loved to see his daughter with. With his recent tattoo, his long hair, and a body that came from long hours at his new construction job, Billy knew he looked like a thug.
Anna herself had designed the tattoo Billy had gotten. It read "Mother Love" in thick dark swirls. In fact, most people didn't even know what his tattoo said until he told them. But he didn't mind. He got it for himself and his mother. Other people's opinions didn't matter.
Anna waved a hand in front of his face, laughing at how lost in his thoughts he had become. "Billy, I said do you want a drink?" she asked him. He turned to look at her, and a flush of love overcame him. God, she was perfect. Genuine and sweet, honest and brave, and loving. She loved him so fucking much. Shit. Thinking about it made him wanna wrap her up in his arms and just hold her.
Not one to deny himself, Billy scooped the tall girl into his lap. "No thanks," he answered, preoccupied with his thoughts.
His mother laughed. "You're ridiculous, Billy," she said fondly. "Let the poor girl go."
His grandfather groaned. "Don't be getting too excited now, Billyboy. It's only lunch now."
Marge smacked William. "Shut up, you were the same way, you cranky old coot." She reproached.
He grinned unrepentantly. "Still would if we weren't so goddamn old."
"Speak for yourself," Marge harrumphed. "I'm still young."
"At heart!" William roared with laughter.
Maggie smiled at the love her parents shared, watching them banter back and forth.
Billy was as equally unashamed as his grandfather. Anna however, was laughing with a crimson tint to her cheeks. Billy kept her there for the entire picnic, refusing to let her go.
He finally released her when they were cleaning up, putting away the remainders of their meal and wrapping up the hideous blanket.
"God, where did you even get an ugly thing like that?" he asked his grandmother.
"Shut up, whippersnapper. You don't have a whit of taste, boy-o." his grandfather smacked him on the top of the head, although it wasn't easy with Billy continuing to grow taller.
"Disrespectful little brat," his grandmother mumbled. "I swaddled you in this blanket."
"This is brand new. You haven't cut the price tag off yet." Billy replied drily.
William smacked his grandson again, this time laughing. "We figured it wouldn't be a picnic without the traditional checkered bullshit."
Billy snorted. "You old timers and your traditions."
"You better shut your face, sonny, or I'll have to break out the trusty skillet." Anna scolded him, in such a perfect impression of Marge that everyone burst out laughing.
They made it to the car and Billy squeezed in the back with Anna and the supplies, while the other three sat up front. God he loved her. Just being able to hold her hand was wonderful.
The car moved down the highway home steadily, with everyone chattering and playing with the radio as they cheerfully moved.
Anna was saying something about Charlene, laughing about it. "You know she still hates me for being with you. She never got over you."
Billy shrugged. "She should."
Anna laughed and scooted close to him. They were only a foot apart, but she moved closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I guess it does seem kind of awful that our anniversary is on her birthday."
Billy did feel guilty, but he cared far more about Anna than spoiled Charlene Regan. He held Anna close to him and watched outside the window, suddenly feeling tired. He just wanted to sleep and hold Anna in his arms.
Everything was moving quickly along, and Billy felt peaceful, drowsy.
Until the car behind them smashed into them.
Billy's grandparents owned a small car, old and rickety. The car behind them was an enormous Buick.
Billy felt glass cut into his arm, and suddenly felt an awful sense of relief when he realized his arm was protecting Anna's neck. But with the Buick literally riding on their tail, the car stopped moving forward and nearly stood straight up until being flipped over, upside down in the middle of the road, as the enormous car plowed past them, completely ignoring them.
The car that had been behind the Buick accidentally bashed into them, sending them swerving, the sound of metal meeting concrete the only thing Billy could hear. He tore off his seatbelt and with effort, undid Anna's, falling to the roof of the car, wrapping his body protectively around hers. Billy felt blood, and wasn't sure who's it was. He knew he should be panicking right now, but with the car still moving, there was nothing he could do.
He felt calm. Anna was in his arms. He'd protect her. Nobody was screaming. Was that a good sign? Nobody in his family panicked easily, a trait he'd picked up over the years.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of ping pong, the car halted and was no longer hit. He opened his eyes and felt shaky. He could see almost nothing. But he felt blood, the weight of Anna in his arms, and the ripping pains all throughout his body. It was bad. He knew it was bad. Just not how bad.
Shit. Why couldn't he see? Why couldn't he fucking see?
That was his last thought before he hit unconsciousness, blood pooling over his eyes, blinding him.
Rebecca had been up for three days straight. She had been absorbing as much information as she could lately. Except math. She didn't like math.
She took another gulp of the steaming black coffee beside her and closed the history textbook by her side, switching over to a biology book about herbs and cures. She had a booklet of questions to answer and she had been working feverishly to get it done.
The history book had been about scientific discoveries beginning from the Dark Ages, cures and home grown remedies.
She had her own room now, due to her excessive studying that had always kept others awake. She felt bad about it, but it was necessary. Between PSATs, SATs, GED, Terranova, placement testing, constant strings of IQ testing, and entrance exams, she was swamped.
She was ten years old.
Rebecca did not, unfortunately, have a photographic memory to help her. The past year had passed in an unhappy blur.
Lindsey and Kyle had both been adopted, and after becoming so close and learning so much about friendship and fighting from Kyle, about kindness and puberty from Lindsey, she had sobbed for days after each of them left. The fact that Kyle had left three months after Lindsey hadn't helped.
Johnson had seemed as torn up as her, furious when he'd found out. Rebecca tried to be glad for them. But both of them had disappeared over night, practically. She had gotten no goodbyes from either of them.
Rebecca's only friend now was Mr. Johnson. And he was just as busy as she was, teaching all of his other students, helping her out, studying with her, testing with her, finding contacts for her and ways to get her testing, they were both at their wits end.
Rebecca's school year was all year. She studied fifty different texts a year, which Mr. Johnson got for her. She was sponsored by Umbrella, so the smarter she was, the more free things she got. Unfortunately that meant she had to study more. It was a never ending cycle and Rebecca was constantly falling asleep on her textbooks and papers, pen in hand.
She was constantly covered in ink, with imprints across her cheek from the books she fell asleep on.
Rebecca was worn out. The last time she'd ever done anything for herself was never. She was constantly doing as she was told, constantly working towards a goal that seemed to only get farther away, and she was losing her friends, her sleep, and her sanity.
She was miserable, always.
Not only was the beginning of puberty hitting her, so was caffeine addiction, and her stress. She'd talked to Miss Lily and she hadn't been surprised. She said Rebecca'd probably get her period soon. She was young, but it wasn't unheard of.
Rebecca had been pissed when she found out. Another thing to worry about.
She didn't need the additional stress piled on top of her. She was close to explosion as it was.
Other children were jealous of Rebecca. Why did she get to drink coffee? Why did she get to stay up all night? How come she had her own room? Why did she never have to go to class?
They didn't understand how awful it was.
Sometimes, Rebecca forgot she was ten. She would think that she was twenty, an adult, having a conversation with her peers rather than her superiors. Most adults were in fact, intimidated by her, she knew. She was smarter than them. She knew it, they knew it, and they didn't want to admit it.
Rebecca, annoyed by her distracting thoughts, slammed her books shut and shuffled to her bed, shutting off her lamp. It felt so good to be in her bed, actually sleeping for the first time in about two weeks. She felt herself drifting off…
Until she felt something between her legs.
Rebecca had never experienced this before, but with a hiss of anger, understood what it was. Right when she had decided she didn't want it, her period had come.
She ripped off her underwear and replaced it with a clean pair, sticking a few tissues between her skin and cloth. Gosh, she was angry. She left her dirty clothing right there on the floor, she'd do laundry later. She was too mad and exhausted to bother with anything right now.
She was ready to sleep, to drift away into another, more peaceful world…
Billy woke up when he felt medics prying at his arms. He snarled at them, trying to get to Anna. But he released her, realizing they could help her. "Is everyone okay?" he asked, unemotional, his voice flat and face expressionless.
Anna was taken from the car, with loud noises and screaming and the irritating click of photos being taken. Next, they helped Billy out. He could see now, but felt dried blood caked across his face, making blinking a difficult process.
The paramedic looked at him kindly. "Come in," he helped Billy up into the ambulance. "They're all unconscious… I really don't know."
"You're lying."
The guy bit his lip. "The woman looks fine, like you. The older ones are bad, real bad."
Billy felt terror fill his heart like no other. "They're hurt? What about the blonde girl?"
The man looked at Billy, his brown eyes sorrowful. "She died almost immediately."
All of Billy's fear left his heart.
So did everything else.
The next day, he and his mother were discharged from the hospital. The other three were gone.
Billy signed up for the Marines the next day.
He didn't go to the funeral the day after that, but instead waited until everyone had left, watching from a distance, and gave her his own goodbye.
The funeral had been heartbreaking, an outside event in the graveyard, with people crying and a couple who looked like her parents stiffly watching. He felt rage fill his heart at the sight.
Then regret. He was a selfish bastard: why hadn't he gone? His grandparents were cremated in a silent, private ceremony the same day, and he had gone. But this was too much for Billy.
He couldn't bear to watch others crying for the girl he loved. It didn't seem right; as if they hadn't known her well enough. As if their tears were superficial. They didn't care about her life: only now that she was gone did they care.
Billy didn't bother to wear a suit when he saw her, as he knelt by the shallow grave, six feet between them. He laid down on the freshly turned earth and pressed his into the dirt, the sun beating on his back.
He thought it was curious that it wasn't raining outside. It was any other day, a beautiful summer afternoon.
He listened for her heartbeat in the earth, hoping a mistake had been made, willing to dig through those six feet with his bare hands if he got any sign from her. But the sign never came. Billy didn't cry: he just laid there with his head at her tombstone and pretended she was in his arms, that the heat radiating from the dirt was hers. She wasn't gone: she was right underneath him, waiting for him. He had promised he'd never leave her, that he didn't need anyone else.
He didn't.
But belatedly, with his cheek against her grave, he realized something deathly important, something that almost broke him down right then and there. The knowledge weighed on him heavily, as a guilt that he'd ever drop in all of his life. It was just too much to bear, the weight.
He had never told her he loved her.
Rebecca was woken up a few scant hours later by Miss Lily, who opened her black curtains. "You're gonna be late for the SATs," she warned Rebecca. Then, noticing Rebecca's underwear on the floor sighed. "I have a pad, just in case. I'll buy you some. It's gonna be really shitty from here on out," she said, speaking to Rebecca as if she were an equal, rather than a pathetic little orphan.
Just two years ago, Rebecca was treated like the child she was, with small words and simplicity. Now, she had a more complex vocabulary than most college students, more maturity than people three times her age, and a quiet sense of self that she hoped she'd never lose.
She dragged herself up, groping for the enormous mug of coffee Miss Lily always brought and drank it down, spilling some on her shirt. She didn't care. "Just take me in my pjs," she said groggily, going to brush her teeth. Miss Lily came in and showed her where to place the pad on her underwear and Rebecca nodded. "I'm ready." She yawned, the light flooding in from the window hurting her eyes.
Miss Lily was like a sweet mother hen. Rebecca liked how she fussed over her. Nobody else did anymore. Sometimes she really hated being so smart. It hadn't really given her anything.
She understood the world now, had a comprehension of both the biological, theological, and psychological components of life, but she'd have found it eventually, on her own, with time and preparation.
She had been shoved into this.
Rebecca's daytime was scheduled. She was ferried about by Miss Lily, her appointments scheduled by Mr. Johnson, and her nights spent with the instant coffeemaker plugged in. She had a raging caffeine addiction, a quiet disposition, and a resignation to life that belonged to someone four times her age.
Rebecca had gotten her hair cut the other day, and she loved it. She had just told the woman to leave an inch of hair. Her head was free; she didn't need to do anything to her hair anymore except wash it. This was the best idea she'd ever had, especially for her nighttime study sessions.
It was the first decision she had made for herself, and it was a good choice.
Maybe now she'd be able to muddle her way from the confusion of having one foot in childhood and the other in adulthood.