After

Chapter One

It happened before I knew it. Slick boots and wet metal send me flying down the broken subway cart, clanging into leather seats. The impact knocked the air from my chest, brain instantly hot and tingly. I knew I was in trouble way before I landed.

"How many times do I have to tell you to be quiet!" He yells, before swiftly sliding down the stoop, careful yet planted as he goes.

"You're the one making noise now!" I yell, the aching in my back slowly spreading to my ankles as I crawl out the gash of scraps, shoes sinking into the soil.

The air around us is cool, sharp. We're surrounded by large buildings with shattered windows, moss mixed with glass clinging to the earth below. Greens, reflective in the puddle water shine up at us as he climbs out of the wrecked cart the same way I did. He sighs and grabs a piece of bread from his bag, handing it over to me.

We hear nothing but the sounds of silence. He takes out his map, a long thin paper with red dots splashed across its surface and I sigh, rubbing my shoulder.

"We'll find a building a few miles down and call it a night." He says, and it's not a suggestion, it's a set plan. I nod, and together we walk carefully through the mud, climbing over cars and head down the hill.

"Do you think they're still doing okay?" I whisper, glancing around buildings as we pass.

"Of course."

"But what if-" I start to say but he whirls around to glare at me.

"They're fine Ivy. Now, no more talking until we get to our resting spot." And with that, he pushes on, feet sinking in mud.

I walk silently behind him, breathing in the dingy, murky air that engulfs us.

When we were little, mom and used to come home super late, and it really made us sad, so dad would bring home chocolate and marshmallows for us to make s'mores in the living room before bed. One night, I spilled my chocolate milk on our rug, and dad didn't want me to get in trouble so he drove forty five minutes to the nearest furniture store, and suddenly we had a brand new reclining chair. Mom hated that thing, but we kept it because she liked the effort he put into decorating. "It was to show you how much I care about this decision to move here," he said. She never found out about the stain.

Being completely honest, my dad hated Tegan, but he loved my mother. So he put up with it. Mariena was her name. Had the most beautiful long black hair and dark honey eyes. I remember when I was little, every Friday night we would watch a movie together and I would sit on her lap. During horror films when I got scared I'd accidentally grab her long silk hair, and she would always laugh, never angry even though it had to have hurt her. Her laugh was light, soft and childlike.

Mom worked at the laboratory about two cities over, so she was never really home till late. My dad and Elliot spent most their time together, and I stayed in my room. Often they would leave me alone for hours, mom wouldn't have liked that but she was never home to find out. For the longest we were in public school, but dad decided that public school was for people who couldn't understand how special education truly was, so he switched us to home schooling. He always said, "I work with students daily, and not many will make progress. It doesn't matter how hard you try, minds that don't want to learn, won't." And that was the end of that discussion.

"I can feel you thinking," he says back to me, glancing around the corner before swiftly opening the door to an abandoned convenience store.

"Just about old times."

Routine. I stay by the door with my bat, and keep watch outside while he goes through each individual room to make sure the store isn't inhabited. It's hard to see, the lights turned completely off and we only have the setting sun to help us. We need to hurry.

He enters a room and I turn away, looking down the strip of empty street, wrecked cars blocking certain areas from entering. The windows reflect orange, the warmth of the world slowly fading away. I remember when this town used to be filled with life. Spices, mint, basil, pepper, would fill our noses as we would drive through as a family. Children would laugh and run a little to far ahead of their parents, but it would be okay.

Suddenly, there's shift. I can hear a boom, and birds erupt from being a building not far to the left. Footsteps rush forward and I'm being tugged back, with much more force then I can handle.

"We need to grab as much as we can and go," he says, already shoving Twinkie's into his bag. I give him a look and he stomps his feet. "What? They have a long shelf life."

I shake my head and go for the canned, leaving my bat my the door. Beans, fruits, veggies and broth get dumped into the bottom of my matted green duffel bag. We grab water, gasoline and medicine, then quickly leave out the back door. I make sure to grab my bat, and sling my bag across my back with my bat secure behind me.

He won't let me have a gun. Said "only adults should handle such things," yet he's only 3 years older then me.

There's a large building, and it looks to be in pretty good shape, so we make our way through the entrance and down the hallway to the right. Tons of doors line the walls, and I freeze, realizing the air conditioning is still on. His feet stop to and he looks back at me patiently.

"What the fuck is this place?"

"Therapist offices." He replies, turning towards one of the rooms to push the door open. Inside is a couch, fluffy and yellow. A large vanity sits pushed against the wall next to be small black leather couch and a chestnut desk.

"This rooms hideous" I say, looking at him.

"Some have an acquired taste," he shrugs before turning. "Come on."

We walk down the hallway to the very last door and open it. Two large red couches lay with a fridge push up into the corner. He drops his backpack onto the desk and starts emptying the waters into the mini fridge.

"How did you know about this room?"

"A friend."

"You said to never trust anyone. We don't have "friends." Remember?" I hiss, annoyed at how stupid a choice this could have been.

"I do what I want." Voice flat, salty.

Huffing, I turn around on my heels and push at the door. "Well then so do I."

I don't make it out the door way before hands wrap around my throat tight, shoving my face into a flash of redness.

"I do what I want. YOU listen and trust me." He growls before releasing. Pain pounds behind my eyes and I nod limply, climbing onto the couch and pushing my body as far away from him as I can. He looks back at me and sighs.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, and I shrug.

"It's fine." I say, getting up to grab my bat. I stop at the door and look down, mud tracked all over the carpet by both of us. "I'll be in that one room." Before leaving.

The yellow couch is cotton actually, and there's a small green pillow tucked behind it against the wall. The vibrate Christmas green makes my heart hurt. Laying down with the bat at my feet, I shove my face into the soft fabric and sigh. He never used to be like this.

But things change.

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I hope you guys enjoy chapter one! Don't be afraid to give feed back ❤️
P.S as you can see in "Important Information," I say I'll be posting every Friday afternoon, and I will, however I wanted to post something for you guys so that you had a part of the story to go off of other then the description (which happens WAY LATER in the story.)

Chapter one is short, so I'm sorry, but I can promise that they're going to get a lot longer.