Disease - Chapter One

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"Freeze!" screamed the girl.  I opened my mouth to say something back, and knowing me it was probably supposed to be a witty remark of some sort, but all that came out was a strangled whimper.  I swallowed my fear as I slowly realized that there was nothing else to live for.  I certainly didn't want to die, but as I looked death in the face, it didn't seem all that menacing.  I'd get to be with my father and my older sister, Oriole.  I wouldn't have to be weeping in a crumpled heap on the floor right now.  It would be, quite frankly, nice.  Peaceful, almost.  I smiled.  "What are you smiling at, you idiot?  I'm about to shoot you!"  And oh, how right she was.  I looked at her and smiled some more.  Maybe if I acted completely insane she would just pass me up and be on her way.  So far my theory was working.  "What's your name?" she asked me, with more than a hint of unease in her voice.  "Wren!" I cried, still smiling, and stuck my hand out.  "Go on," I said.  "Shake it!  I don't bite when I first meet someone!"  Then I collapsed into hysterical laughter as if I had just said the most hilarious thing in the world.  Leave, I thought.  Leave me alone this second and let me mourn in peace.  "Well, Wren--" started the girl, but I didn't let her finish.  "What, I don't get to know your name?  I just told you mine!  Now, I don't think that's very cordial, do you?"  I said very evenly.  The girl seemed quite unnerved by my sudden calm demeanor.  "The name's Crimson."  I had to resist the urge to wrinkle my nose at the sound of her name.  Mainlanders give their children such ridiculous names.  I had to admit that it did seem to fit her, though, with her ruby colored hair that stuck out in all directions.  While I was wondering if her hair was dyed or not, I continued to grin and laugh insanely.  "Well Crimson,"  I said in the way a person might talk to their old friend, "this is the old cabin!"  I  gestured around our small house and turned in a circle.  "Oh, and this is my family!"  I pointed proudly at the two corpses on the floor, like I was a four-year-old who had just finished a painting.  Just for good measure.

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