Don't Shoot

(the real) ONE: Apocalypse Now

My name is Elizabeth Delilah Allen. My one friend, Rosa Rodriguez, calls me Bethy.
I'll start this story on April fourteenth, one week before the apocalypse started. One week before my birthday.
It was a Monday, and I was in school.

"Bethy," Rosa calls. "Bethy!"
I turn around, grinning. "What?"
She grabs my shoulders and looks me dead in the eye. "You'll never guess who just asked me out," she whispers. I shake my head, my pale blue hair bouncing. "I don't know, who?" I ask. She takes a deep breath, her cheeks turning pink. "Justin Alex."
I pull away from her, gasping. "No way! You lie! Justin Alex?!"
She grins shyly and nods.
We share a silent, what the what JUSTIN ALEX girl moment before squealing quietly together and bouncing up and down.
When we calm down, my sky-blue nhair is messily falling over my shoulders in waves. "We better get to class. I don't think Justin Alex will date anyone who's late." I say playfully. She grins and turns to walk back down the hall. "I'll text you later," she says. "Stay cool."
I give her thumbs up. "You, too." I shout as she gets farther away. Then in I jog to my class so I'm not late.
As I slide into my seat, the final bell rings. I just barely made it.
A pop quiz paper is on my desk, the ink smudged in one corner. Oh, great, I think. A pop quiz?
I inwardly groan as I grab my pencil and stare at the first question.

1- When was Abraham Lincoln elected president?

I rack my brain for the answer, chewing on my pencil eraser.
Um, 1860? I guess. I write it in tight, neat cursive below the question and move on.
By the time class is over, my page is filled with answers, frustrated sayings, and doodles.
I gather my things and stand up, following the other students to the bus. My mom is too busy working to pick me up.
"Hey," someone behind me calls. "Nice hair."
I subconsciously run my fingers through it and blush. "Thanks." I say, turning my head towards them as I board the bus. I can feel them following me as I head towards the back, and pick a seat on the very end. They sit down beside me and put an arm on the seat back behind me. 'They' turns out to be a boy with messy brown hair and blue eyes. He's wearing a blue plaid button up shirt, and grass stained jeans. "Hi," he says. "I'm Carl."
I shift in my seat and shiver. "Can I help you?" I ask. He shrugs. "I don't know, can you?"
My face heats up, and I know I'm blushing. "Why are you interested in me?"
"Because no one else is."
We sit in silence for a minute, and his arm slips from the back of the seat to my shoulders. I let it rest there, enjoying the radiant warmth of him, but also too nervous to do anything about it.
The bus slows to a stop, and I stand up. "This is my stop. I've got to go," I say, grabbing my backpack and walking forward. He gives me a handsome little salute and smiles.
I exit the bus and stand back to let it pull away. When I can't identify anymore the faces through the windows, I walk to up the driveway to my house. Mom isn't home yet, so I get the spare key from it's hiding place in the loose stone and go inside.
There's a note on the table from Mom.

Working night shift at hospital. Gone till noon tomorrow. Stay at friend's house tonight.
~Mom

I frown and put the note back on the table. "Ugh... She's always working."
I guess I can go to Rosa's... but her brother's sick. There's no one else I trust enough to sleep in their house. "I'm fifteen," I muse. "I'll be fine."
Famous last words, a little voice whispers in my head. I chuckle to myself and make a sandwich for dinner. I've got the whole house to myself until tomorrow. Unfortunately, tomorrow is school.
I decide to do my homework and watch a few TV shows.
When that's done, I sink gratefully into my bed.

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Time skip brought to you by laziness
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One week later:
I skip into school, backpack hanging off one shoulder. Today is my birthday, and Carl has promised to do something special.
When I walk into class, he's smiling mischievously.
I find a small box in my desk, wrapped in dark blue paper. My cheeks flush red and and I tuck it in my backpack to open later.
Suddenly someone darts into the classroom, eyes wide with alarm. Her hair is twisted to the side, and there's a red mark on her arm.
The teacher jumps up and takes the girl's wrist, concerned. "What's wrong?" He asks. The girl shakes her head and slumps to the floor, unconscious.
Carl stands up and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Stay calm. I'm sure it's nothing. I'm not going to let anything happen." He says quietly. I shiver and and rub my arm. Carl always knows when I'm nervous.

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More laziness: next day
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I snap awake, shivering and sweaty. The zombies are still pounding on the classroom door, leaving grimy handprints on the glass. Carl is sitting on the far wall, along with the other teenagers, and has my head resting in his lap. "You looked peaceful, so I didn't wake you up," he says. I rub my eyes and sigh. "I don't feel peaceful."
He smiles and looks away, but his eyes show how concerned he really is.
The other teens are huddled around us, some of them sleeping, some of them awake.
Something pops, then cracks sharply, and the classroom door bursts open.
Carl jumps up and shields me with his body, moving me to the safest hiding place: the closet.
Unfortunately, there's only room for one person inside. He leans forward and gives me the first kiss of my life, then pulls away and stares intently into my eyes. "Lock the door. Don't open it until you're sure it's safe. I don't know what's going on, but I'm going to find out and try to stop it. I'll find you again someday, I promise, Elizabeth." And then the door closes and he's gone.
I click the lock into place and sit, shivering, and listening in horror to the sounds of pure pain and terror coming from the other room. Eventually the screams stop, and the only sound is that of the zombies ripping, moaning, and feeding. I fall asleep with tears on my cheeks.
~
It's hunger that drives me to open the door.
The only people left in the classroom are dead bodies, eaten so far down that nothing can be identified except blood and bone. I can't even tell of Carl is one of them.
The sight horrifies me, so I quickly move on, stopping at every noise.
The school is empty, even from zombies, and I wander aimlessly, my hunger directing me to the cafeteria. The only thing that hasn't been destroyed or stolen is two jars of pickles, a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a pack of Sour Patch.
I absently make a pickle-peanut-butter-sour-patch sandwich.
My brain clicks back into reality when I take a bite. Somehow, it's the best thing I've ever tasted, and I quickly eat two of them before stashing the rest of the food in a backpack I found.
I whirl around, ready to bolt, when a can clatters behind me. It's a zombie, shuffling towards me as fast as it can.
I help and run the other way, out of the cafeteria, and lock myself in the teacher's lounge. The quiet is eerie, and makes me want to hold my breath so I don't disturb it.
I sink to the floor, by back against one of the walls, and it hits me. I am alone. Abandoned, forgotten, left behind. There is no one coming to help me, and I'll have to help myself.