Buzzkill (A Lesbian Story)

34: I Hate Everything

  That voice wasn't my mother's. It was, but it was more cruel and cynical. Someone else's words were coming out of her mouth, "Who are you and why is this happening?"

  "None of your concern." She said, "I just need you to stay in this state. You don't want to go back out there do you? With the infects and the death." The voice sounded almost like it felt bad for me. Like it was pleading for me to stay for my own sake. "I know you have Ashley there, but why not make a better future here? There, you have her, but how long until something happens to her? You're already sick, but you'll most likely make it through. Ashley,  however, will die a horrible death. I know it. You know it-"

  "No." Anger flowed inside me as I watched her slowly walk around the table, moving with her to keep her away.

  She tilted her head slightly, a smirk on her lips. "Oh come on, my dear. You are going to take that dying world over this paradise? You stay here and work things your way. You can have Ashley or, hell, any girl you want. You can have her here where it is safe. No zombies. No death. You're healthy and so is she. Back there, both of you are dying."

  My head snapped towards her, "What do you know about her? She's fine! Not infected."

  A laugh rumbled through her like slow thunder. "Really? She has been around you since day one of the outbreak. You two have been very...close. You really think you haven't infected her?" She moved closer to me, but I stayed still. "As we speak, the virus is moving through her body. Vein by vein, she is turning into one of those things. And you can't save her. Your mother can't save her." She stopped right in front of me and I was unable to move. All I could do was watch the face of my mother look at me with cold eyes and a cruel smile. Her hand brushed hair out of my face. "You are a special girl, Maxine. Your blood especially. You are the reason this disease was made. It's your fault people are dying. Why Ashley is dying."

  "NO!" I screamed loud enough that the kitchen seemed to shake. I finally turned so that I faced her, my hand coming up to grab her neck as I pushed her against the fridge. "I don't fucking care what this world is. I will not listen to what you say. You are a damn figment of my fucking imagination and I will get back to her. She isn't going to die. Neither am I or my dad. You fucking hear me?"

  That only made her smirk more. She laughed at me, "As you wish, my darling."

  Pain suddenly coursed through every vein in my body. I cried out and took a step back, clutching my shoulder. It burned the worst, like a hot knife was cutting into my skin and ripping my open. Looking down at it, I saw as my skin was opening. There was my stab wound, fresh and bleeding. The blood changed, it became black and thick. The veins around my cut turned dark as ink, the skin around my wound becoming bruised. My veins snaked under my skin and spread throughout my body. It felt like metal rods were being pushed through my veins instead of blood. I stumbled back as I felt my knees go weak. The room was shaking and I fell to the ground, holding myself up on the counter.

  "Don't say I didn't warn you, Maxine." She said to me calmly, crouching in front of me. "What's going to happen next; you're not going to like it. But, hey, at least you will spend some time with Ashley before you end up killing her."

  I screamed and summed everything I was feeling; frustration, anger, pain, grief. I lifted myself up off the ground and pounced towards her, the room feeling like thunder. As soon as my arms wrapped around her throat, everything went numb and dark. I blinked and suddenly I was in a hospital room. There was a soft beeping of a heart monitor and I looked over. There was my dad, laying in the bed across the room from me. He looked like he was sick; his tan face was pale, his blonde hair was plastered onto his forehead. Veins snaked under his skin. Just like me. I looked down at myself, seeing the veins on my arms and upper body. There was an IV in my arm with some kind of clear fluid. My wrists were restrained onto the bed with zipties.

  Right up my alley

  That was a stupid thought.

  "Hello?" I called out, hoping someone could hear me. I even looked over at my dad to see if he heard me. He didn't stir. His heart rate was low. I struggled against the zipties and they broke easily. I ripped the IV out of my arm and I felt no pain.  I did the same with the heart monitor pads, making the machine screech with a flatline, and I still felt nothing. Swinging my feet over the bed, I put them on the ground and walked over to my dad. His heartbeat sped up and I watched as his eyelids twitched like he was having a bad dream. 

  The door opened and I looked over to see a nurse walk in, looking down at a clipboard. Looking up at the noise, she saw me. A look of absolute terror filled her face as she screamed and quickly ran out. I saw her push a button near the door and a siren started going off. It rang in my ears like a gong and I felt my whole body pulse with anger. My hands went over my ears as the pain got more intense. My dad was thrashing now, growling and sneering. His eyes were closed. Doctors swarmed the halls as the lights shut off, only leaving us in emergency lights. 

  "Turn it off!" I screamed at them, my head feeling like it was going to explode as I fell to my knees. The room was starting to rumble like it did in my weird dream. "Please!"

  The door opened and I saw army boots stomping towards me. My eyes were going blurry and flecked with black, but I looked up and recognized Hawkeye. The last thing I remembered was him pointing a pistol at my face and a woman screaming before everything went black.