I shot up from bed. Soft sheets between my fingers, a springy, thick mattress beneath my body. I looked around, seeing my wardrobe, my chest of draws, the clothes strung on the floor, Mr. Tedson by my side. Sighing in relief, I used my right arm to push off the bed and roll off, tiredness still over me. Using the banister on the right I ventured down the stairs to the kitchen. Everything was white, even the stools. I don't remember them being white yesterday, I thought they were black? The cereal was in one of the top cupboards, so I used my left arm- it didn't move. What? Why is my left arm not moving! I'm lifting it, I'm trying to raise it, everything in me is trying to get this arm to rise and it's limp on my side. Please lift, please move. Even my fingers aren't moving. Oh god please-
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Population Control
Teen FictionIt was supposed to be a normal start to the school year until Camille sees a Rabid creature get shot by police, Matthew's mother is turned, Jason's parents try to force him into a bunker, and Sami comes across someone feasting on a dog. Now the four...
