AN: REVISED

2: Human Day

There is something about shampoo days that I can't get enough of these days. I think it's the change of pace, or it might be the chance to smell good for once, or not feel so grimy. Whatever it was it always added this minor spring in my step and forced a small up-curve of my lips. I did my morning chores and decided, as I had every month, I deserved to take my time getting clean that afternoon. As I sat by the stream I couldn't help but inspect myself once more. It was strange how much my body changed in the year since everything happened. Where I had once been chubby I was now a rock, but I guess living the way I did now didn't really leave me any other options. Here at the end of the world you either got into shape or you died. On cleaning days I always got a bittersweet feeling, but today it was sweeter. I looked over my skin. I had only one tattoo, and I only got that on a dare from my best friend, Amanda. Amanda was probably held up in some place, surviving just like me, at least that was my hope. I guess I'll never know for sure though. I scrubbed the patch of skin on my ribs, just below my breast.

"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep.

But I have promises to keep.

And miles to go before I sleep.

And miles to go before I sleep."

It's strange now to think how much these words have become me. How much my journey here was affected by those lines. I think now I am just glad she dared me. It's probably the only thing I will have to remember her by, maybe even that whole part of my life. I wonder if she still thinks about me, too. After I had gotten the dirt and stink off of my skin I moved to my hair. It always got so dirty in the weeks that most of the time it almost looked brown, but not anymore. I scrubbed for a long time, and when I dunked my head into the river and when I pulled myself out my hair was back to its blonde sheen. I wrapped my towel around myself went inside to change into something nice, as has become custom on these occasions. This served no purpose besides letting me experience a slice of normalcy, of what once had been. Even if it was stupid, it was still something that helped me hold onto my dwindling sanity.

"Today the white dress," I said to myself before sliding into the soft fabric. I looked in the mirror, "If only my friends were around to see how great I look now." I made a mocking tone as I pretended, "Gosh, Annie! You've lost so much weight! You look fantastic! Want to share clothes?" I let out a sarcastic cackle as I put on the necklace I made of the keys to the locks on the front gate and the house, my laugh echoed throughout the empty rooms. The next step in my monthly routine was one of the more fun ones. I never wore make-up anymore. There was no point in vanity when there was work to be done. Days like this were the one exception. My human days, as I like to call them. I'd always took a long time putting it on, but ever since things changed I took even more. There was something to it that made me forget everything. Normalcy. I then took the time to paint my nails. Every few nights I managed upkeep, filing and fixing cuticles so they wouldn't get mangled during the next day's work, but I saved polishing for my human day. I looked in the cupboard at the various colors I had lined up from one of my raids into town. I picked one out. "Red would be nice for this month." I quickly went to work and before I could start to enjoy myself I was done with both my fingers and my toes. Even if it didn't last it still helped me clear my mind, I need as many of those kinds of activities as I can find now.

I paused for a moment, and for a second I was in a different time. I was getting ready for a date, or dinner with my friends. I wasn't about to spend an afternoon surveying some wasteland.

By the time my fingernails had dried I was back in the apocalypse. I grabbed my gun, my binoculars, and one of the medical textbooks I had slowly started to wear out and made my way to the roof, happy to be human for a day.

The sun was slowly descending when I first heard the roar. I was reading one of the more complicated bits of the book, so at first I thought I was imagining things. When I realized it was growing louder I lifted the binoculars to my eyes and looked towards the sound. Just a lone man on a motorcycle? I scanned the road behind him; nothing. I grabbed my things and scuttled off the roof. I set down everything and grabbed the silenced pistol and baseball bat before running to the gate. When I reached it he was just pulling up.

I raised the gun and he cut the engine. "Who the hell are you?"

"Have you been bitten?" I looked him over, but he was too dirty to tell for certain.

"No." his face seemed annoyed. "Need to check, or what?"

I can't explain why I trusted him then, or if I was simply so excited to see a live human for the first time in months, but I found myself grabbing my keys and beginning to undo the locks, giddiness in my voice, "What's your name?"

"Daryl." I got the gate open, "You up here alone?"

I paused for just a moment, quickly debating if I should lie or not. Instead my hand gripped the pistol firmly. I could take him down if I had to. If I had to, I could keep myself safe. "Yes. Now get in here so I can lock back up. And don't turn on the engine again." He got up and began to push the bike inside the gate. Once it was clear I locked everything and walked beside him up to the house. "What brings you out here?"

"Just looking for anywhere. My group needs a place to stay, so we split up and spread out to find a place."

"Haven't you ever seen any horror movies? Never split up," I laughed. "You can just park it under that awning." I stepped onto the porch and waited for him to gather his things, hands still gripping my weapons tight. I might have been being nice, but if I caught a wiff of anything shady I could do it. I could kill this Daryl person. "Are you hungry?" I attempted hospitality. It was natural. I was starved for company.

"Yes, ma'am." His voice was coarse, like he'd smoke a few too many cigarettes in his life. Did he just call me ma'am? He easily had ten years on me. Do I look like a ma'am?

"I'll make us something then." I turned towards the door as I spoke, "Come on in, Mr. Daryl," I walked inside. "My name is Annie."