I'd always liked my Hayley-time, the few precious moments I got to spend by myself away from all the commotion going on with everyone else. But when Michael passed, I started to loathe Hayley-time. I realised it was only good in small doses, and depressing in huge ones. Which is why I practically begged for Andy and Drew to let Jackson come along with us. I couldn't bear the thought of being alone throughout all of this, without a car, without friends, supplies, anything. It looked like he had no safe place to stay, and that just wasn't fair.
"Life's not fair," I muttered to myself as I walked along the road. "Now more than ever."
And although the thought of endless Hayley-time would have sickened me a few months ago, now I rejoiced it. I wasn't ecstatic about the thought of going alone through this disasterous world when I first left home, but now I was with people I released how attached you can get, and how heartbreaking it is when you have to leave them. Stewart was a prime example; I was so happy to finally see him again, and I was certain (okay, not certain, but hoping) that he'd stay with us and everything would be a little more bearable. But no, he was ripped away from us the same way that Michael and my father and every other human being on the world had been ripped away from anyone else when this plague hit, or before that. Life was cruel, unfair and I wasn't even sure that I wanted to live through it. These past few days had just confirmed the fact that there was no one I loved or knew left, and I had no other choice but to group up with total strangers. Was it even worth it? I mean, who'd want to live in a world where you never feel safe, always terrified of what's around the corner? I didn't want to put other people's lives in jeopardy, and I was pretty sure I'd end up doing that sooner or later, if I hadn't already. I thought to myself that maybe coming back for Stewart really wasn't as good an idea as I thought - he could still be alive right now if we hadn't come to find him and left him off guard. He was probably packing his stuff, sorting out what to bring with him when we came back for him when the biter came along and suprised him.
"Damnit," I said, my eyes welling up again. "Hold it together you stupid kid."
But the truth was, I couldn't. I hated how clingy I had been towards a guy who'd almost killed me the first time I saw him, and how devastated I had gotten when I'd seen him dead. I hated how I was in the middle of a constant mood-swing between Andy and Drew, and how Jackson seemed so happy and perky in the middle of all this crap that it made me feel sick, although it was obvious how nice a guy he was. I hated life how it is now, and I'd hated life a long time before this, so I didn't see why I was living. The minute Michael had been taken from me, I'd not enjoyed living. I hated how I had to deal every day without him, and yes I get it, there are more things to worry about right now, but I couldn't get over people that easily, even years later. I took my eyes off the ground and saw a biter slowly making it's way towards me. I decided that, although I hated life as a human, I'd hate it much more as a biter.
"Get it together Hayley," I whispered to myself. "Things are looking up." I laughed at my lie, and started heading back towards the gas station. The biter was quite a way behind me, so I only had to jog slowly to keep a distance. I realised how dark it was getting, and felt bad for lying to Andy and the others. I checked over my shoulder to see where the biter was, and noticed it was getting closer. And the closer it got, the more it resembled Stewart.
"Get over it!" I yelled to myself. "Get over everything for god's sake!" I stopped in my tracks, turned around and kicked the biter in her chest, watching as it fell to the ground. I stopped to cry, but didn't have time - it grabbed onto my foot. I looked around and saw my foolish shouting had attracted 3, maybe 4 more and there was no way I could take them out without my shovel.
"There's me wishing for death," I sighed, looking at the biter's hand. It was wearing a wedding ring. "Hmm," I said, looking at my own. "If your husbands dead, and my husbands dead, I guess that makes us the same anyway. You got over it anyway, by the looks of things." I laughed to myself, starting to shake. I was being swarmed, and I started to feel fear spreading over me. I decided what I wanted my last thoughts or words to be. My mind? It was blank. The only thing I could think of was 'quit whining, fight for your life and deal with it'. So yeah, I tried, believe it or not.