Recap

There was no wall where the window was. Swearing quite creatively I look for an open room. While doing so I grab something to drink and chug it.

Today is a wonderful and horrible day. Here's hoping time helps me adapt.

Chapter 3

I slowly calmed down and felt muscles and parts loosen that I didn’t know were flexed and tight. While searching for a room I think of what else I can scrounge up for weapons. A metal hockey stick is great and all but something ranged works wonders if you can hit.

A good gun or something but the noise might cause me more trouble than the thing is worth. I feel resigned and tired as I look for a room and looking out the window at the end of the row I see that it's getting dark out now. I left the college around 4. Let's just add two hours and say that it's 6 in the evening.

With everything going on I soo do not want to be outside. Especially with the things like the Roidrat and Giga Roach lurking around. I'm gonna hide away, probably go to sleep for a bit. I will investigate all this in the near future, possibly in the morning tomorrow. As long as something doesn't kill me and eat me while asleep. Cause ya never know, that can happen.

I mean it generally didn't happen, before this so-called Apocalypse that I'm going through, but yeah. Even before this, it was a pretty crazy sort of time. Just nuts, a modern dystopia. Tensions were high everywhere in the world.

People shooting people. Kids accidentally getting Papas or Mama's gun and playing with it. Tragedy all around. Racism, genderism, sexism, discrimination, politicians acting like they didn't have brains and overall just making everything horrible. Idiots telling other idiots what to do. And people just being all around just horrendous to everybody else.

Like why? I just don't get it. Live and let live. Just mind your own damn business. Don't don't tell anybody what to do. And they won't tell you what to do. You punch somebody, they're gonna punch you back. You give somebody flowers, they'll probably be happy about it. Possibly give you a flower back, maybe cookies. Be nice. That's my philosophy. Just. Just be nice.

I try, I really do. I give people chances and try my best to learn about who they are. Well, I used to do that I think. Since my injury, I might have closed myself off.

“Talking to yourself is a great way to consolidate thoughts.” My therapist said and continues to say everytime I go for a session.

“Let's consolidate then. In the past, before the injury I was happy. Things were going well. Life was worth living, a joy everyday.” I start my slow musing.

“I can admit that I looked at life through a lense, tinted brighter, lighter. Less heavy with responsibility and no understanding of my position” A quietly said phrase. Silence reigns for a period. My thoughts flow to my past actions, my words, my mistakes.

A knife, blood drops pooling, connected by a drip, drip, drip from the tip. Sharp, reflective, scarred, a tight, tiny grip on the handle. Clear liquid drops following the blood, drip drip, drip drip, drip drip. Tiny feet in sight, a scar near the foot…..

A story in a story. Not now. I forge on, leaving the past behind. Maybe I will relive my history, to see in a new light the times bygone. Not now.

“Then the injury”… rage boils in my mind, pushed down by will and practice. “I closed myself off after that, away from everything, everyone. I still don’t know how much I can open up.”

It's been years, some tell me. “Like that has anything to do with it. Ha! Time, able to solve everything! Ha! A joke for the ages! The fool who said that should experience loss.”

Loss I know well. “He should feel that burn, to not push away and forget but to keep in mind every second and try to survive. Ha! Fuel for the pyre he will be.”.

“I survived, I picked up the pieces. I put them together. They don't fit fully anymore. It works well enough. I don't have space for new pieces, and I might never will.”

“Alyssa, she forced her way in.” A smile blooms on my face, involuntarily I would like to add. “For months she annoyed me and forced her way into my pieces. A beautiful piece among the burned. I hope she is ok. I like her, she's annoying but she is my annoying friend.”

I stand from my resting spot on the stairs, suddenly adrenaline filled once again, and call Alyssa on my phone. A few rings later and dwindling hope with each ring, and it clicks and joy flows unbidden.

“Jay!! Is that you?!! Are you ok? Did you also get out and head to the green flashing circle!??

“Alyssa”

It takes you somewhere!! I'm safe here and a bunch of people are here too!!

“Alyssa”

There are a bunch of tiny, cute kids and babies here! Are you here?!”

“ALYSSA!”

“Yeah Jay?!”

“It's good to hear from you. To answer your questions, yes I am safe. I don't know anything about the flashing green circles, or the safe place. I'm not there. Tell me what happened after I left.”

“It's good you're safe, you had me worried but after trying to call everyone nothing worked! It only picked up when you rang, I called you!”

“Alyssa! Hhaa. Ally, what happened? Focus.”

“After you left, we were stuck there! I saw you leave but I couldn't move! I stared at the sky. It was red and everything! Then a green flashing circle lights up under us and we are here! Does that help?”

“Ally, explain ‘here’”.

“It's like Gerna here Jay!! It's almost the same, just a lot less people and many young kids and babies and mothers, some fathers and old people too. I don't know why we're here though”.

“Ally, are you sure you're safe? It could be dangerous and misleading”.

“We're absolutely safe here Jay!! It was awesome, a smoking man made of, like, green stage Mist appeared and told us a bunch of stuff!!”

“Here's what he said: “The Mist is neither good nor evil. It Is. Those who survived before created a boon for those after. A place for the old, the young, the weak and those who wish not to fight.””

“Ally, where is the safety portion and do you really trust it?!”

“He said a bit more: “ Here you are safe, absolutely and perfectly. For a year and a day you can stay and learn all that you can. Then you will return to your world once more. Pay those who fight, create safety, if not to return is death.” “

“Well he could just be saying that! What makes it safe, how do you believe this at all?!”

“There was more but the moment it finished it felt like a finality. It was like what the being said was absolute, and nothing and no one could go against it. It felt like a ball of warmth and surety was put in my soul. It's weird but we're all safe here!”

“I…think I understand. Good to talk to you again. I want to know if there is food and stuff?”

“Lots Jay, sssssoooooo much food! Everything and anything! It's..like a puppy's smile. Amazing, cute, cool and tasty!”

“Beep. Beep. Beep”

“Gotta go Ally, my phone is dead or close to it. Be safe and learn a bunch. We all need as much help as possible. Bye, love you.”

“That's the first time you ever said that to me!!! I love you too Jay. Be safe and kick ass!!! My fierce fighter. Also, call me soon!! Ok?!!”

A small smile stretches over my face as I reply, “ Yeah call you soon. Stay safe, bye.” With that the phone is dead.

“That was… something. Alyssa is safe, a bunch of people are safe, one year and a day and Mist dudes?!!” A bewildered and confused sigh leaves me as I ponder the consequences and revelations.

“Mist, safe space, people survived it before, one year and a day to make Gerna safe. That's a tall order.” I muse out loud.

“Yaaaawww” As the thoughts flow through my head the fatigue of the day catches up with my body. I feel a tiredness mandated sleep rush.

“Later. Haaaaha I can analyze things later. Yaaa. I need sleep. With that in mind I head off to find a place to sleep. My previous relatively light hearted musing coming to the foreground.

“People have problems. Heck, I have problems!” A surge of adrenaline rushes through me again, beating back the sleep rush with a stick of force and blood sugar. “Even before all this apocalypse nonsense. Why couldn't everybody just be nice? I don't know.”

As my mind clams once again the sleep rush is back with vengeance. Hitting me with shots of safety and self-insert dreams of glory and safety. I stagger a bit, my adrenaline losing to my sleep rush, both fighting fierce battles with my time as the prize.

I finally got up to my room and looked around. “Fuck on a stick. A really large rusty metal stick, I want to shove into something. Something that bleeds screams and yells. Fate probably deserves it and more.

“ A huge hole.” I sigh. “ I hope for some safety, somewhere to relax. But nooooo! I can't even do that. Fuck everything right now. A resigned look crosses my face, a frown following.

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In my room is a pretty big hole where the window and that general section where a wall used to be. Umm, no wall, just outside. “Ffffuuuccckkkk” a tired, bleak voice escapes me. My body slowly drooping as I give up a little. On everything.

So I decided to do the smart thing this time. I go in, grab some food from the fridge near the door and leave. Close the door, turn around and walk away. No going back in again, no looking around.

I don't know what's gonna happen, but being anywhere in sight of these things seems to make them wanna fight.

I'm not a fan of being on the other end of the hulking monsters, nope. Not at all. So here I am. Walking away up the stairs to another floor and start checking the doors to see if they're open.

“Nope. Nope. No. No. Yeah, No.Yep, this one's open.” Walking in, I see pink everywhere. I don't know who lived here, but they seem to be obsessed with the color pink. That's pretty much all I can say right now.

I grab a sugary drink from the minifridge just to get my energy up.

Sugar rush joins the fight.

It is sugar rush and adrenaline(weakened) vs sleep rush( strengthened, growing stronger)

Fight!!!

I sit on one of the chairs and just let go. It aches and I feel bone deep exhaustion. After just blanking for a while I spotted salvation. Now, usually I don't like taking things from other people. But these are not usual circumstances, right?

“Is this girl a T-Rex? 99 percent of what she has is meat. Eat your veggies gir! And give me some too!” I put most of the snacks and food away. Grabbing the last box.

Now listen. I don't persecute people who eat meat. I personally don't eat meat. I like my milk. I eat things with eggs in them. But I do not make egg based things by myself. Cakes. Yes. Egg rice where you can actually see the egg, no. Soo meat is not my thing. I'm probably gonna have to eat it though, because of the unusual circumstances.

Not going to be happy about it though. I haven't had a single piece of meat since I was born.

But it's the Apocalypse, scavenge. Seems to be good enough for a slogan.

So. Well. Let's hang on for a bit. It's not that far into the apocalypse yet, so let's see if I can grab some other things to eat. I still have the stuff from the fridge below sitting in a bag. I want to save as much of the food in it as I can as it's less perishable food and drinks.

Checking the final box in the minifridge I found an assortment of snacks and foods, so I grabbed some, most of them potato based. Some filled with ready to eat candies, cake, and ice cream.

There were pre-made noodles, a few blueberry packets and some bananas. Huh. I don't know why, but it seems bananas are everywhere today. Like the world has gone bananas. I like bananas. And just this morning I ate a banana. Eating a bit of everything I raided the closet. “Pink, Pink everywhere.”

Desperate for anything other than pink, I try to find some normal clothes because as much as I don’t mind pink, this is too much. I found some non pink pajamas and a pink shirt, it was a hassle.

I ain't taking anybody's underwear nowhere. You don't know where they've been. Mine were pretty much unharmed, so I took them out, and did a sink wash with some hand soap. Actual apocalypse people, gotta improvise. Leaving them out to dry, I put the scavenged clothes on the hanger and go take a blessed shower.

“Ughh, I need to get some self cleaning clothes.” I groan. “The world's magic gotta have magic underwear!” Lifting my arms in a ‘this world has gone nuts’ fashion, I act out my frustration. It helps, thank you therapist.

Now here's me crossing my fingers, wishing and hoping more than anything that the hot water is working because I am not someone that will take a cold freaking shower.

I can suffer through one and have many times for training. Not going to be one of those admittedly crazy. Crazy and very driven people that like it. Completely nuts I say, they take cold showers. No way, no how. Hoping beyond hope that things haven't gone to hell too quickly, because I am sure that they definitely will sometime in the future.

Pretty sure that the electrical grid is still functional, I turned up the water and blessed steam started filling up the shower. I go in and start my daily ritual, washing out my hair with pretty good aloe based shampoo and conditioner. I prefer some light lavender mixed with jasmine. Smells divine. I'm not gonna judge what others use and will just be happy because, hey, use what's in front of you. It's the Apocalypse, Scavenge.

Finishing the shower I towel off. Wrap my shoulder blade length hair and I stare at myself in the mirror. Now between you and me, I am a narcissist. That is true. Why isn't everybody a narcissist though? It's great for self esteem. No matter how you look you still feel loved, you still feel hot and still feel like there is no need to worry about your appearance.

My therapist, overtime, helped me become a narcissist as I was dealing with despondency and depression due to my injury. She taught me self love, confidence in my image and through that changed my view of the world.

Everybody likes looking purty and feeling amazingly hot and would love to have chiseled out abs and defined muscles and great hair. But that's not the be all, end all, of beauty. Not Even Close! That's how men decided the beauty standards should be. “HA!” I instinctively say. “They can rot in hell for all I care!”

Beauty is how you look at yourself, not how others see you. You are beautiful because You Feel that way and what you Are, you love.

Tears flow freely as I examine myself. And I'm not going to lie. I look amazing. I had a scar through the right side of my body. Sternum to the right thigh. Large, gnarled and dark. It looked like burned latex.

It's healed now, there is still a scar, it's more of a pencil line than a jagged industrial saw now. It's closer to normal skin color too, and more importantly, the pain is gone. I was too rushed to realize previously as I was focused on my leg and got interrupted.

“Fuck the everliving Mist out of you Roidrat!!!” I fume for a few seconds.

Looking around I am not like a gaunt skeleton anymore, I am pudgey and I love it.

I was toned before, in my eyes I worked hard to get the perfect hockey physique. It was horrible. It hurt, the blandish food, the restriction on sweets. Explaining to my despondent mom why I couldn't eat what she made some days.

It was torture plain and simple. But I was stuck in the fame and glory. Wanting more and more. I tortured myself with the reason of ‘It's going to make me number one’ Ha! It destroyed my life, socially, mentally and physically. I will never go back.

I got some pudge and I love it. Perfect I say. Looking closer and moving a bit to test things out I feel like I got some muscle on these bones. Not as much as before though much more than I lost. It felt good, normal, perfect.

Tears spring fresh once again. I wobble and fall down slightly. The terror of what I was going to see giving way to relief. My breasts, they're back again. I knew that something was back. I really didn't notice. I avoided my body. Looking at it, touching it more than needed. I couldn't see much in the steam and I avoided looking and feeling through habit.

Part of the injury once again. Almost completely removed and scarred over. No feeling, numbness and cold is what I lived through. But no more. I have them back.Giddy and slightly hysterical, I examine them more.

Now the recently revived ladies are normal size. They are lighter in color than my skin color. Musing on that I realize that makes sense. It was all scar and pain. So it being back is like supernatural healing. So, being healed scars, they are lighter in color.

I'm not gonna say much more than that. Shaddapp. Don't be asking anything else because I ain't sharing. I share what I want to and you are not entitled to get any more info. Don't be a Perv.

Now my face, that's where things get interesting. I have a normal face, not too ovalish. Pretty symmetrical, a good jawline, pretty good teeth. One or two are crooked or skewed a bit, but it's functional. Generally, it happens, no one's ever perfect and anybody that says they are is only fooling you and lying to you.

So if you believe them, I have got an amazing house to sell you. It's in the Bahamas. It's 13 stories tall and of course, it'll handle hurricane winds and storms and tsunamis. It's perfectly fine.

I have a slight scar down the corner of my right eye that curves down till it's about equal with my nose. It seems to rest on the highest point of my cheek bones. It is only a half a finger length in size and slightly pale. It looks pretty cool all things considered.

It gouged my cheek out before. All the flesh gone and bone smashed. The teeth falling away. The surgeons, bless their heart and skill, remade my jaw and used autografts from my uninjured sections for my cheek.

I clench my teeth and examine my mouth and see that everything looked back to how it was before the injury. Natural teeth once again. Awesome!!

“The absolute heck, my eyes are orange.” I scream. My eyes have changed. Now I say this with a slight bit of trepidation, frustration and some genuine anger because I like my old eyes. My old eyes were purple. Made me look way hotter than I actually am. Like on a 10 out of 10 scale I was like a 15.

Lots of people were jealous because of those purple eyes. Light purple that darkened slightly with darkening and lighter spots all around my eye and a ring of darkish purple right in my pupil area. Another silvery purple ring surrounded my eye right before they touched the white sclera. Man, I love those eyes, they were amazing.

I freaking modeled a few times in my heyday. Made a bit of profit before the injury. They mostly just cared for my eyes and my face. Glasses. Glasses were a big thing with me just because of my eyes.

They were amazing as they contrasted with my brownish pale skin. Now what I see in the mirror is not purple. No way, no how.

It's a bright orangish green. With purple flecks everywhere. Dark purple flecks and a light purple ring around my eye. A bit of yellow tinting of the sclera. The pupil is a dark flowing gold with white and bluish flecks just dropped in. I'm not gonna lie. This looks amazing. I liked my purple eyes of the past much better, just because they were mine and I loved them. My eyes were captivating and it was great for self-esteem.

Now these eyes. My god, these eyes. They were beautiful. The starry sky, the andromeda galaxy and a purple supernova and the sun. They were unearthly. They weren't human…they used to be but not any more…

They are slightly frightening. It's like they steal your freewill. And of course, they glow. “Yep, I have night lights for eyes. I'm pretty sure this is a new development.” Sarcasm. Much sarcasm.

My hair, on the other hand, seems to be the same color as it was. Normal, brunette but as I start toweling it to dry it after removing the wrap, because long hair plus water equals nightmare to clean. It, umm, it shimmers.

I flick my hair back and forth in front of me so I could finalize my drying and I can see the shimmering. It shimmers an off silver color. It still looks brown, a raw, dark, rich mahogany type brown. It shimmers silver. Silver, brown, and a bit of blue thrown in also. It only shimmers when the hair moves and does nothing when still. “Pretty weird overall” I say to my reflection, just taking in everything.

“It looks great, my eyes plus my hair and face. Man. 20 out of 10, I'd say.” I whistle out turning this way and that admiring the view. Narcissism. Very much narcissism.

I put my clothes back on. Leave my underwear out to dry. And on the bed I go. “Wow, that's soft.” I mutter as I snuggle into the pink bed and blanket. I usually like my bed a bit on the firm side. It provides support and is better overall. “A soft bed is ok, once in a while.” I murmur sleepily.

I peek open an eye and make sure that everything is closed off. Window blinds are on the windows. No one's peeking in here. Lock the front door and then turn all the lights off. Of course I kept my hockey stick next to me.

Never know when there's going to be an emergency, so keep a weapon nearby. Not like next to me. Next to me. Cause guts and blood. After I washed it three times, it still felt dirty. I left it on the floor near my right side, where I can just turn around, grab it and go.

Adrenaline and Sugar Rush vs Sleep

Sleep goes in for a warm bath and soft bed knockout.

Adrenaline, weakened, goes for a cortisol stress reaction comeback.

Sugar rush the chaos child throws dopamine bombs hitting who knows what.

Sleep keeping up with the knock out adds in bodily healing and rebuild relief the Excalibur, Deus Ex Machina, the full snap.

Adrenaline lays dead in a heap of dopamine and serotonin.

Sugar rush is drained and falls wearing a blanket of happy dreams and insulin.

Sleep beacons and to dreamland I surrender.