part 3

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my mom was still on the couch when i got home from the vigil, but she was awake. she didn't hear me come in. i slowly walked over to the kitchen to make myself dinner.

"y/n!" she said, surprised. "when did you get home?"

"just now." i answered. i opened the cupboard to see the shelves bare.

"hey, could you go grocery shopping? we ran out of food," my mom said.

"i will tomorrow. i'm tired right now." i walked back to the living room and gave my mom a kiss on the top of her head. ignoring the painful hunger that started to form, i skipped upstairs to my room.

i changed out of my cheer uniform and threw it in the corner of my room. sam luckily didn't throw up on me.. or whatever it was that came out of her.

as for simon, i'm not sure if we left off on good terms or not tonight. but i was really hoping i wouldn't have to see him again...

i crawled into bed in just some loose shorts and pulled the blanket up over my bare shoulders. the last thought i had before i fell asleep was peter's car crashing, and sam's blood splattering.

when i woke up the next morning, i noticed my door was ajar. i knew i had closed it last night, so how could it have opened?

i went downstairs to find my mom, but didn't see her. i checked the window and the car was still here, so she was home.

"mom?" i loudly asked.

"yes, sweetie?"

she came out of the bathroom, looking like absolute shit. her robes were loosely tied, barely covering her stained nightdress. her hair was messy and the few strands in the front were soaked with...

"did you throw up?"

she sighed. "i'm hungover. i had a bit to drink last night."

"was it just a bit, or the whole bottle?" i asked, concerned.

"it was—"

"and don't lie to me."

my mom sadly smiled at me. "you're such a good child, y/n," she whispered, setting aside my question. "now, didn't you say something about going to the store last night? i'm starving."

i crossed my arms and watched as she messily walked to the couch. she sat down with a grunt and reached for the tv remote. i sighed.

"yeah, mom. i'll go get some stuff."

i drove to the store and parked my car on the corner spot. the lot was bare, save for my car and another car that looked vaguely familiar.

i walked inside and grabbed a cart. the store was quiet, so i assumed i was the only shopper here.

i walked through the aisles, lazily pushing items into my cart. i couldn't stop thinking about what happened last night. we weren't exactly friends anymore, but i was still worried for sam. i finished shopping and steered my cart to the one cashier available.

"welcome to— oh, hey, y/n!"

i quickly looked up from placing my groceries on the conveyor belt. just my luck.

"of course you're the only cashier this shit store has to offer," i muttered.

"that's no way to greet an old friend,"
simon laughed, scanning my items.

"don't care," i said back, flashing a smile.

simon picked up the box of cereal and examined it. i raised my eyebrows.

our final night alive || simon kalivoda Where stories live. Discover now