I ended up in a deep sleep on the couch, sweating from the nightmares that I had. I woke up when I heard someone come downstairs. It was Clementine, that kid that told her desolate story last night. She turned her head and saw that I was awake.
"You're awake." She said, sitting next to me. I sit up and turn to face her. "Yeah...anyone know what time it is?" I rub my eyes, getting all of the crusty sheets of dust out of my eyes. She stares at me and shrugs. "...How did I get here? With a bullet in my stomach and everything." I shake my head, feeling like I've had enough. Like I wanted to commit suicide. But that was everyday. I needed to keep on going, though. No matter what happens.
No matter what.
"How did you get that bullet anyways?" Clementine asks me, staring at my bloodied shirt. Did she really have to ask that? That wasn't important. Well...
"Guys. Chasing me. Man, fuck those sons of bitches." I say, clenching my teeth. Clementine gives me a dirty look, but looks away and stares behind her.
The old guy with a green jacket and pure white hair was standing there. "Hey, Clementine. Want to help me go fishing with Nick?" He says in a deep voice. "I'm Pete by the way." He glances at me and waves. I wave back. "Jaclyn." I say. "Do you want me to come and help you guys?" I ask, figuring they probably deserved some help considering they let me in and helped fix up my wound.
"Nah, you're injured. You can stay here. Carlos and the others would take care of you." He recites.
I nod, then throw my head down on a pillow after Clementine gets up. I close my eyes and listen to what Pete, Nick, and Clementine were talking about.
"Those fish are going to be good to eat tonight. I could use a good meal." Pete describes.
"Yeah. You ready to go?" Asks Nick.
I hear the door open and close. They were gone.
Then I heard distant voices coming from another room.
"How's that other girl? The older one?" Says a voice. It sounded like the black lady. I think I heard her name was Rebecca.
"I don't know. You want me to go and check on her?" A voice says. It was Luke.
"If you can. I don't want us to be in any more trouble than we are. Especially with Carver." She says.
Carver? Who the hell is Carver? I ask myself.
The kitchen door swings wide open and Luke comes in. I scrunch my eyes up and pretended that I was sleeping. I knew he was staring at me.
But my acting failed and my eyes fluttered open.
"Whoa." Luke's voice somehow got me startled too, even though I knew he was there.
"How's you're stomach holdin' up?" he asks me.
I sit up. For once, I felt embarrassed. My hair was probably a mess. My eyes were covered in millions of pieces of crust. And the blood on my shirt was just never going to go away.
"Yeah," I answer. "It's getting better," I say in a quiet tone of voice. I sit up and move over so he could sit next to me. When he sat down, I knew it couldn't get any more awkward then this. "How'd you get that wound?" He asks. "It wasn't a guy named Carver's fault, right?". I glance at his brown eyes. "Uh, no." I say looking away. I tried to get the thoughts out of my head. But they wouldn't leave. It was like telling a little kid to stop eating candy. And those thoughts were thoughts I hadn't experienced in a long time.
Damn, he's gorgeous.