Chapter Three:

I found that of the boys I was annoyed by Tristan the most. Declan was an a-hole for good majority of the time, but we kept our distance and left it at that. Alex didn't talk to me unless I spoke first, polite- but incredibly irritating. As for the others, they were terrified of me.

Tristan was chatty, insisting on talking to me about the unimportant; magazines, TV shows that would never air again, and our celebrity crushes. Apparently we both had a thing for Ryan Gosling. I humored his questions, as long as they didn't remind me too much about the fact that I wasn't myself anymore.

After forty eight grueling hours, the Blaze twins came to consensus that I wasn't going to turn and rip their faces off. I celebrated by climbing up to the rafters in the ceiling for the sake of it. I curled up in a corner and slept my heart out. Not because I genuinely wanted to sleep but because I was so exhausted from staying awake and not dying. The nap itself was dreamless and memoryless, leaving my subconscious to think. It thought about Ryan Gosling for a while before shutting down into incomprehensible mumbling.

The room was dimly lit by the grey light wafting through the window when I opened my eyes. Since it was daylight- not for long, may I add- I had to look at the skyline. I missed it. Back when we lived in New York when I was eleven, I'd watch the cars and streetlights until I fell asleep. Now the only things moving were the Creatures, dormant until something live walked by. I stared at one of the Creatures, following its aimless trail until it found a man walking by. He was already injured, so the thing tackled and ripped out his throat in sixty seconds flat.

I counted.

He screamed, loudly, but I didn't do anything. Sure, I could try and get a shot, but I didn't have the right gun. So all I could do was sit back and watch the Creature pull open his pink flesh and yank out whatever it was ready to feast on. I felt bad that It didn't start with his heart. He ended up feeling the whole thing until most of his blood was running out of his body and onto the asphalt below him.

I threw up.

Honestly, the worst feeling in the world is puking. You're vomiting up everything in your stomach- while the organ itself does cartwheels- and you can't defend yourself from anything should danger arrive. You're weak and vulnerable. I hate feeling that way.

After rinsing my mouth out with a little bit of my precious water, I climbed down and met the boys. They were bowling and having fun. Typical boys, always messing round even after the world ends...

Rolling my eyes, I sat down to witness the competition between the twins. From what I could gather, Declan needed a strike to beat Alex's score or Alex took the prize. The boys had the nerve to be drinking during an apocalypse. The prize was half a bottle of Vodka.

Declan turned to give me a smirk before he rolled the bowling ball down the lane, effectively knocking all of the pins down. He victoriously grabbed the bottle and tilted back his head to empty the bottle of its contents. I knew that he was wasted as soon as he slammed the empty bottle back down onto the counter. All of them were stumbling about, and all of them were a safety hazard.

"What do you think you're doing?" I smacked Declan's hand before he could pull out a beer. "You could get alcohol poisoning!"

He responded by burping in my face. His breath smelled disgusting.

 I smacked him across the face, for my personal enjoyment. Then I took the beer back to the kitchen. The boys weren't overly fond of the idea.

Tucker grabbed my wrist and shoved me into a wall. His pupils were dilated- he had pot too? Uh-oh.

"Give us back the booze," His voice chilled my bones, a voice so terrifying the old me would've burst into tears. Instead I stood my ground and shoved him away from me. I was reminded as to why Tucker was always suspended for brawling.

My back slammed into the counter, a whimper escaping. I scolded myself for letting myself be weak. I didn't have much time though, because he had his fist connecting with my jaw before discarding me off to the side. He took the beers off the counter and left me to clutch at my face. He left the room and let the boys cheer in appreciation.

"Finally," Tristan laughed, clinking his beer with Alex's. He drank up, even though it was a very non-Tristan move. What ever happened to the sober pledge he was so strict on?

I noticed the expression of Declan's face change as he set his beer back on the table and headed my way. Oh gosh, not again. I curled up into a little ball and winced as he leaned down.

"Here," He extended a hand and pulled me back onto my feet. I crinkled my eyebrows as he pulled out a small tube of lidocaine. That stuff was definitely worth a lot now- and he was giving it to me?

"You're aware of how rare medication is right?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," And then he squirted out a dime-sized amount and covered the swelling. In a few minutes I couldn't feel the violent throbbing anymore.

"You okay?" He put the first aid kit back in his bag. I watched him stumble around, so I knew he was still drunk. Which explains the sudden helpfulness.

"Eh," I answered truthfully, sitting down on the counter. I poured him a mug of tea in an attempt to sober him up. He smiled appreciatively before disappearing out of the room to meet his friends.

I stared off at a spot on the dirty tile for a few minutes, wondering if I had imagined all of that. Declan Blaze helped me? Maybe it was Alex? Oh gosh, what is going on? I avoided the boys for the rest of the evening, taking the watch shift on the roof while they slept a drunken sleep.

Stepping over Alex's crumpled form, I climbed the stairs onto the roof and made sure the barricades were holding up. Everything was so quiet- at least half of the Creatures had stopped their pursuit at the door, leaving the numbers much more bearable.

I didn't do much for the next few hours, mostly just enjoying the fact that I finally had silence for a change. There was always something going on, the boys playfully arguing, bowling, or just talking in general. Now it was perfectly silent- almost creepy in a way.

I stayed wrapped up in my thoughts until someone cleared their throat behind me. I ignored it, not in the mood for whoever wanted to talk to me. But he was insistent, and pulled my arm to face him.

Alex.

"What happened to your face?" We're the first words out of his mouth.

"I was born this way," I said coolly. "When a mom and a dad think they love each other, they get really drunk and-"

His hand clamped over my mouth. "No thanks for the explanation."

I smirked as I casually leaned against the railing. Alex walked closer to me and gently ran his fingers along the bruise.

"Did I-"

"No."

"My brother?"

"No. Tucker actually. I took the beer away from you guys," I said simply, taking aim at a wandering Creature. The shot was perfect, taking off a chunk of face with it. Alex nodded in approval before putting a hand on my shoulder.

"You can rest you know?"

"Are they drunk?"

"Hungover and cranky," He scoffed, shaking his head. A laugh bubbled in his throat, small, but a real one. It'd been awhile since anyone laughed in front of me. How weird it was not having the little things anymore.

"Like PMS cranky or I just crammed for the SATs cranky?" I grinned.

"Both. On crack," He chuckled, aiming for another Creature. "I'll take this one." His shot was clear in the center of the forehead. Impressive.

"Dang," I whistled, taking a puff of my inhaler. It was a normal thing to do, and as embarrassing as it was- Alex made me feel breathless sometimes. Ew, I definitely prefer the heartless Imogen. Girl hormones, yuck.

"I've had practice," He swung his rifle over his shoulder before opening up a bag to reveal a can of fruit cocktail. We split it while the sun came up, not talking.

Alex slowly inched his hand towards mine and held it, before I had the good sense to pull away.

"Sorry, I can't," I made my way down the stairs before he could chase after me. I was so out of it that I ran right into Declan, effectively earning a glare and a few profanities as we parted ways.

"Whoa," Tristan snagged my wrist. "What is up with you?"

I shook my head and looked down at the floor. "Nothing."

"If it's nothing than I am Miley Cyrus," He scoffed.

"I wonder if she lived," I rolled my eyes, already knowing the answer.

"She probably tried to twerk on the zombies and got eaten," He chuckled.

"Don't insult the queen," I shook a finger at him. "As truthful as your words may be."

Then we were laughing, and for a minute I felt like it was all okay. But it really wasn't. It was probably never gonna be ok again. When my laughter died and tears threatened to make an appearance, I was bolting up to the rafters to hide myself.

Tristan called after me before following. Once we were alone, I crumpled and allowed myself to feel the depression sink in. I wasn't crying because of any of the events that had pictured today. I was crying because I would never get to live a normal day with my friends. He didn't judge though, he just put an arm around me with a smile.

"You aren't so heartless after all huh?" He earned a smack- and the faintest of giggles.

***

I've always had a memory, one that I tried to recall every time things got too bad. It was freshman year, day one. The best day of my life. My mother was always an optimist, the type who believed that everything was always ok and that if it wasn't you ought to change it. She told me this was gonna be 'my year', the year boys fell madly in love with me and straight As were an easy thing to acquire. I thought it was bull if I'm being completely honest.

Still, I gave her a fake smile while swinging my new bag over my shoulders as she drove off. My eyes felt heavy with the mascara and eyeliner she'd caked on. My hair was all curled, crunching whenever I moved because she's used a whole can of hairspray on me. The only thing I chose was my outfit; a navy sweater rolled up my forearms and a pair of skinny jeans encasing my legs. My shoes squeaked on the tiles as I nervously walked to my first class.

Before I could move, a girl stopped me all smiles and optimism. She was wearing sweats and a t-shirt with Rick Grimes on it and the smile dominating her face was the only thing that screamed the word; freshman, loud and clear.

"Layla," She'd said, shaking my hand so hard I was shocked that it didn't fall off.

"Imogen," I whispered, staring down at the ground.

"Cool glasses," She smiled taking my schedule from me. "OMG we have the same classes."

I nodded, even though I was beyond excited to know someone as opposed to being socially inept all year. We'd walked into our first class in bright spirits- and all the other classes after that.

In the afternoon, my mother asked if I had an amazing day, and I answered honestly. I'd made a great friend and befriended my teachers. Things had been looking up.

After I get to the end, I usually pretend that I didn't meet Declan Blaze hours after that. That I didn't face my first bit of tons of harassment the day after. But I couldn't help but continue wondering what I did to get him to hate me.

Layla and I were matching the next day, against my will. She'd had the crazy idea to dress up as twins and pretend we were sisters. We got our picture done for yearbook and everything. At lunch, I sat down next to her at her table of friends.

"This is Imogen," She gestured to me like I was a celebrity.

I waved, well- swiftly waved my hand. "Imogen, I guess." The book in my lap was tempting, but my mother said I should stop using it as a shield. I let my bangs cover my eyes in a weak attempt at becoming invisible.

"Weird name," A deep voice said. I turned to see a tall boy staring down at me. He looked critical. "Why is there frosh meat at our table?"

"I'm freshman too," Layla reminded him.

"But you're hot," He slipped down into the seat next to her, draping his jacket over the chair. My cheeks heated with his critical gaze.

"My friend is beautiful," She shot back. "Leave her alone, Blaze"

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Calm your PMS, I'm just speaking truth here."

"You're being a jerk," Layla glared.

"Just observing my type."

I said what I was thinking without meaning to. "Well Layla isn't your type."

He raised an eyebrow and stared me down with his piercing eyes. "And what is that."

My impulsive mouth opened again. "The spoiled narcissistic prostitutes who will open their legs for you!"

He shot up so fast, I jumped. His voice was cold. "Keep your mouth shut, schoolgirl. People like you are worthless."

I remember running with everyone at the table laughing as hard as humanly possible. The memories of hot tears streaming down my cheeks with increasing speed. Layla found me sobbing in the bathroom, and she'd been the one to punch Declan the day after. One thought was racing through my mind all day, every day after that; I hate Declan Blaze.