Broken Silence

Messed up

I wake up slowly, not even recalling that I'd fallen asleep. A side effect, maybe? A side effect from dying.

Crickets are chirping to my left, outside of the barn, hidden in the tall snowy grass. I didn't think crickets could survive in the winter. I guess they can.

A small, icy gust of wind blows daintily into the barn loft, filling me with an almost pleasant sense of rememberance.

On winter days like these, my mom always made me hot chocolate. Everyday. Without asking.

She made it a certain way, too. Not with a mix or some pre-made powder garbage, she always made it. Boiled hot water in the kettle and then crushed up cocoa beans and chocolate chips and a whole multitude of magical ingredients. Then, after that, she'd swirl some whipped cream and top it with chocolate sprinkles and a cherry.

On days like this, I could be drinking that hot chocolate. I should be drinking that hot chocolate.

A sharp pain hits me right in the stomach, suppressing my nostalgia for my mom's hot chocolate.

I spring open my eyes, which have hopefully not subsided to an ugly white. Hopefully.

Mitch stands above me, a Cheshire Cat grin capturing his face. His dark eyes crinkle, and for a moment I forget about the blinding pain. For a moment.

"Mitch!" I try to say, but only a garbled, warped noise comes up.

"Shhh, you don't have to say anything!" He says, still smiling.

He's holding something behind his back.

I scrunch my eyebrows a little, wondering what he's hiding.

He leans down and kisses me softly.

I shake my head no, he can't kiss me. What if i infect him or something?

"Cassie," he says, frowning a bit, "You can't spread anything. You aren't a-" he cringes a bit, "-a zombie. Here," he reveals what he was hiding, six red roses.

I gasp a little. Where would he find those?

"Found 'em growing about a mile away. I instantly thought of you."

I smile, but I have to force it. There's still that nagging, biting pain in my stomach, ripping away at me from inside.

Mitch leans down and places the roses beside me, with the wild flowers he picked a few days ago.

One of the roses looks too red, and too perky. I reach a shaky hand over and touch it. It's plasticky and hard. Fake.

I look up at Mitch, who smiles like a madman.

"It's fake," he says, pointing out the obvious, "the other five are real. I found the fake one in this abandoned grocery store awhile back. Like it?"

I nod quizzically.

Why get me a single fake rose?

"My love for you," Mitch explains, "will end when the last rose dies."

I open my mouth to say something, or rather garble it, but Kara walks up to the loft.

"Ew. Don't be so gross." She scrunches up her nose.

"Shut up, Kara." Mitch says flatly, not even looking at her.

I cough a little and blood spurts from my mouth.

"Cassie, here, let me-" Mitch leans over and wipes away the blood.

"Kill me now," Kara says.

Now Mitch turns around. "If you don't shut your goddamned mouth, maybe I will."