The camp was taken by the goons after a struggle against them, and Ariana's leg was broken in three places. I went to visit her at 18:00 with some flowers that grew outside the hospital, tied with her bandana.
"Hey, Biggums," I greeted softly. She was in a hospital bed, hooked up to all kinds of machines that pumped her blood with nutrients and maintained her breathing. An armed guard allowed me near with a nod.
"Olá," she greeted back, weakness prominent in her voice. I went to sit by her bed, then handed her the flowers.
"These are for you," I smiled. She had a grim look plastered onto her face.
"Pogan, the doctors say that I'm really sick. I don't reccomend you being so close."
"Sick with what?"
"A flu that came up with a little infection in my stitches. I'll live, but I don't want to get you sick, just in case."
"Okay." I scooted the chair a little farther back. "Ava's doing fine now, and she started her questioning sessions with one of the remaining... Men. She's with Danny and Sage whenever she goes to get questioned." She smiled wide.
"Good. That's good. Puts my soul at ease a little."
"Need anything?"
"No. I just ate a little while ago, and now I'm just starin' at the walls."
"Want me to get your journal? Your sketchbook?"
"My journal, please? And a pen?" I nodded, then jogged out of the room.
"I'll be back in a jiff!!"
---
I thumbed through her sketchbook as I walked back. Reading her journal proved a little difficult; she wrote in odd characters, the pokémon Unown. Now, I took in the intricate animals and comics and patterns she slaved over in the middle of the night. It was all so enticing, seeing her drawings both old and new. I almost passed her room, but retraced my steps and finally got back.
"Grabbed your sketchbook, too. Just in case."
"Thank you." She took the beaten, blue book and the gel pen, then began writing. I tried not to snoop, but I had already failed from trying to read the book earlier. My neck craning was useless.
"Why do you write in Unown?"
"In case nosey people wanna read my shet, they can't." Good job, Mettox. It's workin' like a charm.
"Oooh, I see." I paused, then cracked a grin. "Can you read it to me?" She took a pause, then chuckled.
"Because I trust you, I'll read you ONE entry."
"Yay!"
"Lemme finish up this entry first, then I'll read a lil' somethin'-somethin'," she said, nudging her shoulder to the air. She wrote quickly, signed it, then flipped back to an entry that she smiled at. "Okay, get comfy." I settled into my seat, then leaned forward.
"'Date: 9/30/14. Dear journal, Pogan looked like a little cutie today, serving ice cream with his hair tied. I'm eating some ice cream as I write, as a matter-of-fact. Later, we're planning on going to Pax when the summertime comes 'round. I really want to cosplay, but as what? I'm not sure, but nothing too sexy, in case Pogan gets protective and makes me put a hoodie on. I'm thinking of going as a genderbent Al'tair, or maybe a genderbent Connor. Not sure where I'll get the money for making or buying the costume, but it'll first serve as a Hallow's Eve costume. Maybe I'll make a list, then Pogan'll help me decide? We'll see. - Mettox, ended 14:13'."
"I looked like a 'little cutie'?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes and exhaled.
"Yes, I'll admit. You looked adorable."
"Read me more, it's like looking into your thoughts," I joked creepily. She held the still-open book to her chest, knitting her eyebrows together.
"Well then, I'll sleep well tonight knowing you like reading my thoughts," she said, pretending to be scared. I laughed a little.
"C'moooon. I wanna hear more! It's like that one book."
"I know whatcha talkin' about, but this is far from the Oregon Trail," she sighed. "Fine. Let's see..." She thumbed on, then stopped after a few pages.
"'Date: 12/23/14. Dear Journal, I'm working on little cards for all my friends, and then I'm heading to Pogan's for video games and stuff. I'm also gonna give him the vial necklace of lapis, since I finally saved enough money to make one necklace. I'm a little nervous, though; I dunno if he'll like it or not. I hope he does, and I hope he doesn't have mistletoe up in front of the front door. XD - Mettox, ended 11:15'."
"Oh? What if I did?" I asked, leaning in closer.
"Merry Christmas, you get a high-five!" she joked. We burst out laughing, but she quickly broke into a coughing fit.
"Okay, no more. You're gonna cough your lungs up."
"O-kay," she wheezed.
---
After my half hour a day with her was up, I was escorted back to her room, which I claimed was mine. It may just look like an average makeshift room, but hers had a certain air to it. It was tense in here, like she had most of her nervous breakdowns here. She probably did, which is what scares me the most. I sleep in the same cot as she and Ava did, sometimes it can feel like I'm intruding just by being here. My room is occupied by somebody else from Team Ipsilon, so I'm forced to stay here, in my team leader's and best friend's room.
Tonight, I smuggled the sketchbook back with me, just to relive the magic she created on paper. One particularly caught my eye: it was a different style, and there was text at the top and bottom. On the top, it read "CLINT". At the bottom, "EASTWOOD". Was she a fan? I wasn't sure, but upon further examination, she was in a graveyard, that graveyard in the middle of a desert. She held a microphone--and her mouth was open, like she was singing--as undead, green hands reached for the heavens all around her. I didn't get it. I thumbed through more and more pages, until something fell out. I picked up a photo; well-preserved, clear as day. It was us, at the eighth grade semi-formal in middle school. She kept it, after all this time? Maybe it was a good memory for her, I dunno.
"Excuse me," a voice called behind me. I looked, it was one of the goons. "Hit the sack, it's ten." I nodded, flipping the bird at him when his back was turned.
---
I found myself in the middle of a desert, a length away from a graveyard. There was Mettox, in the middle of it. She was in her suit, holding a mic and singing. But, there was no audio. I couldn't make out the words, but I could make out the zombies rising from the dirt all around her. I was frozen; I didn't even signal for her to get out of there. I watched in horror as she was swallowed into a sea of green and rags. The last thing I saw was a little grin on her face, and she mouthed something to me that looked like "Thank you".
The last thing I saw... That grin...
---
I jolted up, my heart pounding and my body drenched. I held my face in my hands, trying to forget that sick, twisted grin.
Oh god... That grin's gonna haunt me for as long as I live...
