AM13 Outbreak Shorts

Outbreak - Eight

Urgh, I never knew that I didn't have a single thing to wear until now. How is it possible for someone to go through fifteen whole years of their life without realizing that everything they own is utter garbage?

I have dresses which all make me look like a child, jeans that I'm only now noticing fit weird, and skirts that I will never, ever be seen in again. It's just a shame that there's nowhere to shop in this damn town, giving me no other options than what lays before me across my bedsheet.

In the end, I go for comfy, only because I don't want to have to worry about tugging things down or yanking them up all night long. I have too many other things to be worrying about now, like who the hell is Zac and what is he up to with me?

"I don't care what you think, this isn't..."

"Oh, well that's just wonderful, isn't it?"

My parents are still yelling at one another, just as they have been pretty much since the day we moved actually. I don't really know what about, I'm not even sure they're aware anymore, but it's perfect really because it gives me the time I need to slip out unnoticed. The last thing I need is for a Spanish Inquisition just as I'm breaking free of this hell.

Once the cool, brisk air hits me in the face a smile begins to play on my lips. Okay, I should really be freaked out about what's going to happen right now, Emma's warning should be circling my mind, but it isn't. Despite everything, I'm pathetically obsessed with the one boy I shouldn't be, and the more I try to turn off those feelings, the worse they become.

What if he tries to kiss me again?

Hopefully these jeans are okay, and he likes the band emblazoned across my chest.

What if he asks me to be his girlfriend...?

"Oof, oh I'm sorry." I stumble backwards as my body slams into a stranger standing with his back to me on the side of the road. "I didn't..." But I stop talking, mostly because he isn't listening to me.

In fact, he's swinging his fist backwards to punch the other man who's standing in front of him. One who's squaring up, just as aggressively.

No, don't! I want to yell, to scream, to run, to do something to stop this horrific scene from unfolding in front of me but I can't. My legs have turned to lead, fixing me in one place, I feel like I have a hand wrapped around my throat, blocking off my voice box, something is squeezing my lungs, making it impossible to breathe...

I'm useless, I can't do anything.

"Stop it!" a screaming voice coming from the left of me finally grabs my attention. I spin my head to see a group of lads racing from the pub, pints still in hand, to prevent this fight from escalating. "Nick, don't be a prick, this is stupid."

One of the lads dives on the puncher, another on the punchee and they pull them too far apart to continue on with the row they've been having.

Still, I can't move, my body is stuck, even now.

"What the hell is this all about?"

The guy referred to as Nick is spun around and flung towards the ground, his hands slapping on the concrete with a thump. His expression is one of pure rage, it's almost as if he's utterly uncontrollable. Spit flies from the corner of his mouth while he growls loudly, trying to express his anger.

Then, he senses me. I don't know how, but his head snaps up towards me and his deep, dark eyes strike an icicle of fear right into my heart.

His face...

Finally, some kind of survival instinct kicks in and my feet start to run.

His eyes...

My legs are pounding hard, I can't even see where I'm going I'm tearing around that quickly.

His cheek...

I've never seen anything like that before, and I hope never to have to again. His face was a weird, sickly color, which was hardly surprising really, considering all the blood.

God, the blood. So much blood...

Things come in to view, places I recognize. I'm heading towards the beach without even thinking about it, so I might as well continue down that path. The last thing I need right now is to be alone, I have to unload, to share this with someone.

Poor old Zac, this probably isn't going to be the date he expected.

Eventually the exhaustion gets too much for me and I collapse breathlessly against the nearest wall. I need to compose myself, just for a second, and at least now I'm safe in the knowledge that I'm far enough away from that nightmare.

My eyes slide shut, just for a moment, but I quickly force them back open. All I can see in my mind's eye is that bite, a bite so huge I don't think that guy will survive it. Someone bit Nick, right on the cheek, which will at the very least scar him for life.

Just don't think about it, I try to convince myself. Just enjoy this night...somehow.