❁ Everyone had escaped certain death when they found her crying on the side of the road, ballads of lost love escaping her cracked lips.
Unbeknownst to her, a boy with a sheriff's hat and a fistful of daisies would inadvertently mend the cracks of...
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𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
She hadnt bothered counting the days.
In this sort of world taking note of the days and the weeks that went past was so futile. She never measured in minutes but how slowly her spirit chipped away. She had been out of the school for a while, at least thats what it felt like to her.
She didnt realy have any direction, she was just following whatever path felt right to her. Although she thought it stupid to walk out in the open by herself, she kept to the roads. She had always had a terrible sense of direction and being cooped up inside since the beginning hadn't helped. So she kept to what she knew.
She kicked the toes of her broken converse on the cracking cement as she made her way up a never ending road, her eyes focused on the cracking yellow paint in the middle of the path. Her stomach grumbled monstrously as she hadn't had food for a couple of days now.
She tried not to let tears fall. So frustrated at every little thing she didnt know if she could hold on any longer. She had been walking for so long her feet were numb at this point, barely feeling the burning blisters that rubbed against the uneven soles of her shoes.
She wiped her nose with the sleeve of her jacket, the rough denim leaving red splotches on her face right next to the streaks of dirt and blood. She was sure that if she had looked in the mirror she would no longer see herself, yet something that belonged to the wild. Something that merely sought to survive and live a day longer without any understanding of why.
The subtle growls behind her pulled her from her empty thoughts. Shaking her head in despair, she slowly turned her body around, her neck so stiff she simply could not move it by itself. Her eyes met the blurr of a large moving mass behind her. It must have been at least 20 yards away but still, she could make out the detached walks of the dead making their way towards the lonesome girl. The body of dead stretching over the whole road, not being able to see past the herd.
A small whimper left her lips, a childlike fear washing over her. As if there was a monster under her bed, its claws thirsty to rip at her skin. At least when she was a kid she could turn on the night light and the monsters would dissipate, now there was no light, no one to call out to when the monsters got to close.
She turned back around, the distant growls irking her like ringing in her ears, and she ran into the trees. With every step her ankles felt like breaking and her bones felt evey vibration. Her legs were painfully thin yet every inch of her body felt unbearably heavy. Her lungs felt like they were being pulled by string, every breath in and out strained and held by breaking tread.
She wanted to scream, she needed to scream. To cry, and wail, and throw a fit. She would have given all thats left of her to throw her arms and make a scene, to let the child that she killed so long ago put down the knives and the forget memory of blood on her skin.
