Forgive Me If I Don't Cry

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After clearing the downstairs and swiping a knife from the knife block I headed towards the stairs.

I walked upstairs silently, making sure to step near the wall on the stairs as to not make them creak. If one of those boys were already in the house I didn't want to alert them to me.. even though that was a bit late now but one could hope. My knee throbbed as I climbed the last step, I looked around and saw my bedroom door was open, it didn't take a genius to unlock it, a bobby pin or a thin pen, but it was the fact that it was unlocked at all that had me starring.

I wouldn't put it past Mabel to go into my room and snoop around, there wasn't a lot of things that she could get out of there, the clothes were too small and even though we shared, I didn't exactly wear her style of clothes. I wore things that actually fit, and for the most part I preferred shorts. Mabel got away with wearing lazy day clothes.. all the time. Sure she showered, but every single day her hair was up in a messy bun, she wore the same jacket, and a pair of baggy jeans, or sweats.

If she dressed up at all it was a different jacket that she wore. I frowned and pushed open my door a bit more, peering inside, when I didn't see anyone, I quickly moved to Mabel's room. I gripped the knife tight in my hand and bounced a little on my feet, gearing up to burst inside and face whatever was inside, when the door swung open and Mabel looked out at me. Her eyes were rimmed red and when she noticed the knife they widened and she took several steps back.

"What the hell Kodi?!"

I blew out a breath and bent over at the waist, I stared at my knee while trying to calm myself down. The strip of shirt I had covering it was pretty soaked, and it didn't do a lot to help calm me down.

"Sorry, Mabel. I thought you might be.." I trailed off not wanting to tell her about the boys.

I heard her sniff, "Thought I might be what?"

I bit my lip, coming up with a possible lie, "Dead. I thought you might have been dead."

I straightened up and looked at her, she had been crying recently, "Are you okay Mabel?"

She shook her head, "Mom's dead," her voice was lifeless. I didn't understand at first but then I recalled the night before.

The zombie had bitten her, of course she was dead. There was no way to reverse a zombie bite. Mabel turned away, not noticing the fact that I wasn't crying. I felt like a monster for feeling relief. All my life, ever since that woman had found out that I was the result of an affaire, she had hated me. When she had started to get sick with the depression, she was even worse.

She came up with weird punishments, or she would hit me. I've never seen her hit Mabel but I thought it must have happened to her too. I had however, seen Mabel do some of the weird punishments, like wall sitting. My stepmother had loved to make us sit on the wall, among other things. Not the fifteen second lesson I imagine most people might use, she had us sit there for hours. And if we got up or fell down she would yell. The fear of a worse punishment had kept me sitting on that wall no matter how many cramps my thighs got, or how sore my legs were afterwards.

I wasn't upset that my stepmother had died - I was relieved. No more walking on eggshells, no more looking over my shoulder, no more second guessing every single thing I did. I was relieved, and I wasn't sure what kind of a person that made me.

Mabel sniffled, and then turned to look at me, "I saw," she said slowly, "I saw you go out there to help her and her attack you. I looked away when those zombies came I thought you both were dead."

She looked away from me then, and towards her window, "What are we going to do?" she asked in a very small voice, her throat sounding as if it was closing up with grief.

I was taken by surprise... if she saw me sneak out she'd know her mom only came out to yell.. no she saw me try to help her. She didn't know this was my fault. I sucked in a breath and wanted to run away. How did my life go from simply trying to survive the wicked dealings of my step mother, to trying to survive without her.

It's not like she had done anything to ensure survival, just the opposite actually. But having someone here, an adult who was supposed to take care of us did have its comforts. I didn't want to be here alone. I didn't want to be stuck in this messed up world, on the run from boys with pretty eyes, boys who may or may not want to sell me as a sex slave. I didn't want to have the responsibility of keeping us alive. But I knew that Mabel would never own up to those responsibilities. She wouldn't even know the first thing about sneaking around.

I sucked up all the fear and want for someone else to pin my survival on and looked at her, meeting her eyes even though hers seemed to look right through me, "We're going to survive. You're going to always have a knife on you in case a zombie gets inside and I'm not here. I'm going to go out later tonight and look around the houses nearby, see if I can't get some food."

She nodded silently and I set the knife on her dresser before leaving the room. My grab bag was missing, which meant the few provisions.. and my books were also gone. I wanted to scream. Stupid black market boys.

I rubbed my temple and walked into my own room, inside I pulled the food from my closet out and carried the few cans and packets of crackers downstairs. I set them on the counter and then thought better of it, putting them in random cupboards. The next thing I did was grab a few knives, and hid them around the house, places that weren't in sight but if I needed them I'd have them.

Then I cleaned the kitchen, making it look practically untouched.

The house wasn't exactly filled. My step mother had never went out, well I'm sure she did at one point but those days were long gone. We had a basic couch that looked well used even though no one in my family made any use of it. We had a simple older tv and the bare minimum appliances.

We didn't even have a freaking toaster. I mean, come on.

I blew out a breath and cracked open a can of peaches. After I ate half of it, I put the last of the plastic wrap on it and trudged up the stairs once again. In the bathroom I undid the cloth from my knee and inspected the wound. It looked like maybe it could have used stitches, but it wasn't wide enough that a butterfly bandage wouldn't do the job.. for the most part. It had stopped bleeding, which was a plus.

I washed it off, using as little water as I could, and then I redressed it using the first aid kit. Once I had finished I went to my room to give it a rest. As I shut my door behind me, I saw Chip walk in through my open window, she jumped onto my old sagging bed and I smiled despite how I felt.

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