Don't Talk To Strangers | BOOK 1

seventeen

Elle McBriar
July 23rd, 4 months and 11 days after the first zombie report

The definition of 'happy' is feeling or showing pleasure or contentment. Or in simpler words, showing any emotion other than sadness. The meaning of the word happiness can be interpreted in many different ways.

Happiness can be found in even the darkest of situations. For example, this zombie apocalypse killed everyone in the entire world except me and four other people. There seems to be no lightness to that darkness right?

Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but every log I've written in this diary so far, there's been at least one positive outcome. The day Oliver died, I stopped caring about life or death. Which is a bonus for me. But, my point is, even if the world is ending and I live a crappy life, the parts I'll remember are the parts when I'm with my family and friends.

Like when I was making cupcakes with my Mom for Oliver's birthday. When my Dad and I played basketball down at the community center. When Oliver and I went swimming at the lake.

All are happy memories that I have stored away. I'm trying to make light of my mind. I can't seem to figure myself out. Why I can't sleep, why I don't want too. I know it's because every time I close my eyes, I see death, and I feel myself die. But there's something else. When I'm around my friends, I feel nothing but happiness.

I feel myself smiling more, laughing louder. Even if we are on the brink of death and fighting zombies. My light and source of happiness is my friends.

So I guess the the outcome of this darkness is my friends. They're the light that will hopefully guide me home.

I close my journal, frowning at the words I just wrote. Was it too full on? Too cringe? Who knows. No one is reading it but me. 

* * *

I glance through the small crack in my door, peering into Riley's crib. He's sleeping in my room for the next few nights. I don't mind. It'll keep me from going to sleep. And I won't be bored.

He's still sound asleep, light filtering through the dark curtains. 

I head outside, hearing Gage and Paxton talking among themselves about the shed. 

"Alex, how's it going?" I call up to him, using my mouth as a speaker phone, "It looks great. Come on up here, see for yourself." He calls back. I shrug, climbing up the wooden ladder and onto the roof. It's not that high, a few feet.

"Woah, it's actually gorgeous up here. You can see everything." I sigh, feeling the breath get caught in my throat as I look over the valley. You can see everything from the window inside, but this is beautiful. You can see the broken city. Which in some way, is it's own type of beautiful.

It's a reminder of what happened here. If humanity ever is restored. 

I can see the hills, the broken neighborhoods, everything.
I will definitely be coming up here more often. 

"You like? It's cool huh, it's blended in with the trees so nobody can see us." Alex said excitedly, pointing to all his hard work, "It looks great. Well done." I smiled. I walked along the roof, it's sturdy and stable. "I like it up here Alex. It's peaceful. Almost like nothing can you up here." I whispered the last part, quietening my voice down so he doesn't think I'm dumb.

He didn't seem to hear me, which I'm thankful for, "Come on, you can help me inside." Alex went down first, and then I did. I dusted off my hands, "Elle." Gage said, looking innocently at me, "What'd you do?" I pestered, he raised his hands in surrender, "It wasn't me, swear. It's Paxton." I rolled my eyes, "Well what'd Paxton do?" 

Paxton came over, smiling sheepishly. He lifted up his shirt, "I tore my stitches." He rubbed the back of his head, "Did I or did I not tell you to be careful." I said, staring at him, "You did. I'm sorry, it doesn't hurt today so I thought it'd be fine." He rambled, following me into the house, I lightly hit his chest, pained grunts wheezed from him, "I thought you said it didn't hurt?" I smirked.

Gage and Alex followed "You just got Mom'd, dude." Gage laughed, "Sit." I ordered, pointing to the dining table. Paxton said on the table, legs dangling over. I pulled his band aid off, throwing it in the bin. Slowly peeling the gauze away, I was automatically grossed out at the site of the blood. Even though I literally stitched him yesterday.

I re-threaded the needle, giving him a towel to bite down on, "This would be so much better if you were unconscious." I mumbled, "I can gladly, do the honors." Gage offered, Alex laughing, "You boys, out. Go kill something." I said, shooing them out of here.

The towel was still in Paxton's mouth, "This will hurt, just saying. But instead of thinking of the pain, think of something else, okay?" I said, shakily wiping down his skin with a wipe.

I got him to lay down, his hands gripping the side of the table until his knuckles turned white, "Can you talk to me or something? Tell me a story I don't know, anything." Paxton freaked, wide-eyed and staring at me, "S-sure, of course." I smiled.

He has a fear of needles. Got it. Don't let him see it.

I rubbed disinfectant, rubbing alcohol and a small amount of numbing cream to the area, seeing Paxton close his eyes.

I began to push the needle through his skin, using clamps to slowly pinch the skin and thread it through. I guess getting a first aid kit was a bonus after all. 

"Fuck!" Paxton said, like every second, "Ow fuck that hurts. Elle, it hurts. Stop." He glared, swearing at me, "Shut up Paxton." I glared back.

"When I was little, I used to love this one ice cream place back in Brickwood, okay? I went there everyday after school. It was called 'Carl and Son's Ice Cream shop. It was run by this little Spanish man and his son, Carlos-" I pushed the needle through again, "I ordered the same flavor, cookies and cream-" I pulled the thread, "I know, it's the most basic flavor ever. But I was only 12. I thought half the ice creams had alcohol in them." Paxton let out a pained chuckle, "I was very naive and stupid back then." 

"Anyway, one day I went in there and they didn't have cookies and cream-" I cleaned up the blood, "So I asked Carlos, wheres the cookies and cream?" I stitched one last flap, "Carlos just smiled at me, and told me it was no longer called, cookies and cream." Tying a knot in the thread, "It was called Elle's ice cream." I smiled at the memory, cutting the string, "He named an entire ice cream after me because I was the only kid who bought it." 

I placed gauze over the stitch, then the band aid, securing it with a few pieces of tape, "Eventually, more kids started eating it because it wasn't called cookies and cream and it was the most popular flavor, so, I basically sky rocketed his business." I smirked, making Paxton smile.

"Is it over?" He asked, glancing down to his chest, "It's over. You can take pain killers. Every 4 hours, okay?" He nodded, getting up off the table. I headed to the sink, washing my hands as the blood rinsed off and down the drain.

"Hey, thank you. Again, for uh, stitching me and saving me." Paxton mumbled, "You're welcome." I chucked him the box of painkillers, he caught it and took two.

I walked into Alex and Gage's room to find Alex and Gage on their beds. But Gage was lying flat on his stomach and Alex's legs were on the wall, his head hanging down, all the blood rushing to his head.

"This is the most entertainment I've had all week." He chuckled, "Tomorrow, I'm going in search for a pack of cards." I sighed.

* * * 

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