White Paint, White Crayons and White Concrete

Chapter 1

Darius had loved Jerica for as long as he could remember.
He remembered the day he met her, when she came to pick up her little brother from primary school.
He had stared up at her perfect dirt-brown hair, her short fingernails, her eighteen ear piercings, her ugly checkered shorts, and known that she was the one for her.
What Jerica did not know was that Darius was fawning over her for years.

Now, Darius couldn't believe his luck. His wildest dreams had come true.
He had found her and her 'best friend' together, crying and hugging as a horde of zombies surrounded them in their house's ruins. He had grabbed Jerica, hoisted her onto his back and run.
And now she was in the bunker with him.
Just the two of them.
The way she snort-laughed...
The way she smiled as if she was constipated...
The way she ate like a pig...
The way she didn't know who Elon Musk like a very beautiful alien...
He couldn't get enough of it.

Darius took a deep breath...
He had to do it.
He would tell her.
He would tell her how he had felt ever since he was five. Ever since that fateful day where she caught him trying to do a cartwheel and failed miserably, hitting his head on the ground prompting her to laugh uncontrollably and point at him, saying to her 'best fiend,' "Kids, am I right?" he had longed to do it. And now they would live happily ever after.
She couldn't say no, right?! She had been rescued by him! Don't girls immediately fall in love when that happens? Of course they do, he'd seen the movies. Besides, Jerica was kind, funny... he couldn't think of anything else since he'd only ever seen her once, but he assumed she had a bunch of other stuff too that would make her a good person... But anyway, if she said no, it would break his heart into a thousand pieces and then those thousand pieces would each break into a thousand pieces, and... you get the picture, and it would feel like his heart had been run over by sixteen trucks and cement mixers and then smashed with a sledgehammer four-hundred and seventy-eight times, so she wouldn't want to make him feel that way, right?

"J-Jerica?" He stammered.

"Yes?" She replied, turning her head towards him, her buzzed dirt-brown hair like a balm for his eyes against the grey concrete of the bunker. She was wearing a black tank top, reading a book with a pink, orange and white striped cover, and two women on the front. Darius thought it was beautiful, but not nearly as wonderful as her.

He drew a deep breath again, "Jerica... I love you... romantically! That is! Uh... will you, uh, be my g-girlfriend?"

Jerica blinked. "Um, no thanks," she replied, returning to her book.

Darius thought that if she rejected him, his heart would break into a thousand pieces, and then those thousand pieces would each break into a thousand pieces, and then... you get the picture, and then it would feel as if his heart had been run over by 16 trucks and cement mixers, and then smashed with a sledgehammer four-hundred and seventy-eight times... but he was wrong.

It felt like his heart had broken into TWO thousand pieces, and then those two thousand pieces had each broken into two thousand pieces, and then... you get the picture.

It felt as if his heart had been run over by SEVENTEEN trucks and cement mixers, and then smashed with a sledgehammer four-hundred and seventy-NINE times.

All his fantasies of him and his love and their big house, 3 1/2 children, maybe a dog if they were unlucky, a couple of alpha goldfish (because who would pay money for a BETA?!), a liger, sitting on two thrones made of wet toilet paper, dissipated.

His life was a graveyard of buried hopes.

But, wait! This was the apocalypse!

People were literally rising FROM the grave! So he could bring his hopes back, right?!

Of course he could!

So he set to work.