A Day In September - BTS Zombie au

17: Life Goes On

Days after Jimin had died, Mara could not contain the tears that welled in her tired eyes. Nights were sleepless as she tossed and turned in a fit of restlessness. When her eyes did close, her sleep was filled with nightmares of that fateful day. It was a constant reminder, one that refused to let her wary heart rest. The darkness was a hundred times more daunting, and the sounds of the forest were haunting her. Mara didn't have anything but his shoes to remember him. Her things had vanished into thin air just as Jimin's existence had. Having to start over wasn't as refreshing as she'd once envisioned. Having to grow used to not having the things she really needed and regularly used was a pain.The sleepless fatigue was wearing her out, and prevented her from focusing on the imperative tasks she knew by heart by now, yet failed to carry out. How could she move on so quickly when someone she loved had been taken from her? The girl was angry, but there was no one to exact her revenge on, nobody to hold accountable—except maybe herself. No matter how many skulls she sliced through, or how hard she pushed those brutes, more continued to appear. Their proximity was suffocating, clouding her distressed mind.  Mara had lost him in the sea of the dead, not a single last look into his brown eyes. Not even a comforting last touch. She could only wish that he knew how much she loved him.

A week after Jimin's death, Mara would sometimes catch herself running back to the lodge in a rush, excited to show the boy something she'd found. It was upon arriving at an empty, dull house that she realized he was no longer with her. There was a pain that followed, one she'd never felt before. Nevertheless, she tried to move on. However, this reoccurred a couple more times before Mara could finally come to terms with the idea that Jimin was gone. When realizing that, her eyes glossed over. In his absence, Jimin had left a hole in Mara's heart. He was a friend she would never forget.

It was definitely a frustration that took a while to subside — a deep-rooted irritation for the good things in life that lasted only a short while.

But Mara was okay with living another day, as isolated as she was.

Maybe Jimin was right. My parents are as dead as he is, Mara thought.

Mara tried her best to keep warm in her bed, her new blankets and coats didn't quite give her the same familiarity, but they got the job done. Without electricity, there was no heater, and no heater meant cold long nights exposed to freezing temperatures. The absence was of the sun, of warm light, made it all the more cold. Even when the sun was out, the breeze was rather chilly and staying in the sun was preferable.

Mara remained locked inside at night, barricaded in the safety of a small room with an accessible window on the second floor of the large house. The emptiness of the lodge was eerie, and the lack of life and light was intimidating, frightening even. The machete kept her secure—at ease. Mara glanced at her machete, sitting on the floor beside the bed. She was glad to have held it tightly, for it was the last of her things she had from back then. She'd only ever used it against brutes, never against the other dangerous force—humans. On her journey to the lodge, not a single human was in sight. Perhaps it was a good thing. Mara couldn't handle another human at the moment—not unless it was, by some miracle, Jimin. Mara abhorred the thought of killing someone who'd yet to succumb to the sickness, but sometimes things had to be done, and self-preservation was to be put first instead of morals.

She'd learned a thing or two from Jimin.

Mara chuckled at herself, laying on the bed after a while of checking for bugs and dusting off the blankets.

She was glad to be back on a bed, where sleep was comfortable, albeit too stiff for her liking. But perhaps she deserved it.