Buzzkill (A Lesbian Story)

34: I Hate Everything

  "Max! Wake up!" Mom's voice from downstairs made me jerk awake. The momentum of my awakening made me roll over violently and land harshly on the ground. My mom still called, "Max! You're going to be late!"  

  I groggily looked around my room, blinking as my eyes came into focus. This was my room. I was in my room. At my house. Not the hotel room with Ashley. Everything was in place in my room, not scattered around like the last time I saw it I looked down and I was just in my bra and underwear. My head pounded like it did that Monday I drank with Steve. I reached up to the bedside table and looked at my phone. It was Monday. 7:47 am.

  "Maxine!" Mom's voice yelled from downstairs.

  "I'm up!" I finally yelled back, my voice was hoarse. It felt like gravel was going down my esophagus. Shakily, I got to my feet and stumbled to the window. Throwing open the curtain, I squinted as I looked out onto the street. It was normal. No abandoned cars. No trash. No roaming infected bodies. It was my normal suburb. My eyes went to the mirror on the wall. There I was, still tan and without any bruises. My hair was down to the middle of my back, not at my shoulders. I faced the mirror and my hand reached up to touch my shoulder. There was nothing on it. It wasn't even bruised.

  Images flashed in my mind. Waking up to Ash at the sink. Kissing her. Making out with her. Then there was pain. Blinding pain in my shoulder. I felt my body move, but I was not controlling it. I couldn't control myself as I pushed Ashley against the counter. She called out to me and I gained the feeling back. My shoulder was on fire. Then I thought I was dying. I knew I was. My body wasn't mine. It didn't feel like it. I only watched as I pounced on my mom and those doctors. Then things went black. Now here I am.

  I brought my hands up to my head and they sunk into my hair. What was happening? Why am I in my house? Is this a dream? Was that a dream? No. It can't be. This is. That felt all too real. Ash and I...

  "Maxine did you die?" Mom called once more.

  Without putting clothes on, I walked down stairs to see my mom. There she was, putting dishes into the cabinets. She looked rested. She wasn't rugged or exhausted-looking. She was humming lightly like she always did. Just as I walked into the kitchen, she looked up at me and instantly her eyes widened. "What the hell are you doing, child?"

  "Mom. What's going on?" I asked, putting distance between us and the island. "This isn't real."

  She just looked at me with a raised eyebrow and concerned face, "Are you feeling okay, sweetie?"

  "No, no I'm not. Mom, there is a zombie apocalypse going on." I felt stupid saying it, "I was infected. You are helping me. This is all just a sick delusion of the disease and I need to get back!"

  "Honey," She tried to go around the island to me, but I moved so that we had our distance. Stopping, she put her hands on the marble. "Honey, you are worrying me. If this is one of your games, stop it."

  "I'm serious Mom!" I yelled, pounding my fists on the counter. "I need to get back! I need to get back to you and Ash and Steve and Dad! They're all back there and I'm sick!" She kept trying to get closer to me, but I wouldn't let her. "You're supposed to have answers, Mom! Even when you're not real and just in my head!"

  "Sweetie..." She said calmly, "This is reality-"

  No. No. It wasn't. Shaking my head, I pushed away from the counter, "No, it's not. I wish it was, Mom. God I do. But it's not."

  Suddenly, her eyes grew hard. Instead of a concerned look, she looked devious. Evil. Cold. A laugh came out of her throat and she nodded, "I'm impressed. You have a strong sense of reality. Much like your father. You both know how to call bullshit."