Your Very Own BDFF

myfairlad

The zombie apocalypse really wasn’t that bad. Amy had made the best out of a terrible situation, she thought. Well, when she was able to think anyways. Her thoughts struggled, coming and going whenever they pleased. When she could think, her focuses were very simple. Amy wanted skittles and a friend. She couldn’t really eat the candy, Amy just liked to taste a few every now and again. If she ever made a friend, she could definitely eat them. Which was the main problem she couldn’t keep one. 

Amy was easily distracted, causing her to let the zombie side of her to take over long enough for her friends to become her next meal. She was always upset about it afterwards, but there wasn’t much she could do. Living wasn’t the same as it was before-- dying wasn’t either.

Sad and a little more determined than before, Amy struggled on, growling and moaning at other zombies that went by. There was no living for miles-- no one she could actually communicate with. She had tried to be friends with other zombies before, but they were all dumb.

There was finally something to cheer her up though. A truck had turned over on the side of the road. No doubt when all the panic of breakout first happened. Out of the truck had spilled out several vending machines. They were dented and cracked, but also full of skittles.

She could smell them as she approached. The fruit candy smell, cleared her head long enough to decide what she needed to do. Open the vending machine and get to her skittles. The glass on the front was cracked, but not broken. She leaned over and pressed her hands against the glass. Nothing happened.

In frustration, she banged and growled at the glass. Her open palms did nothing as she couldn’t quite remember how to close her fist. A small cry gurgled through her growls as she saw her reflection next to the skittles in the glass. Why was she allowed to be this close, but not have what she wanted?

Amy heard the creak of the old front door before she even realized she was awake. Her eyes opened to the pure black of her room. There was no glow of sun behind the closed curtains. It was the middle of the night and Simon was just now coming home. It wasn’t the first night he had stayed out late and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. But, his previous history didn’t keep her from worrying about him. He never said the words, but she knew what he did for living. Amy never asked specifics, but she understood. Drug dealer or not. He was the closest person she had ever had to a father and as of six months ago, the only person she could call family.

Amy didn’t want to get up, but she had to check on Simon. She spent too much time in bed anyways. Regardless of the time of night, getting out of bed would be good for her. At least, that’s what she thought as she steadied herself against the nightstand. Amy was diagnosed with leukemia a little over a year ago. She was tired most days and felt like she ate more medicine than food. Simon did what he could to take care of her and the doctors seemed hopeful.

She heard Simon rattling around in the kitchen when she stepped out of her room. Simon was hunched over, reaching into the far back of the refrigerator. He moved back, beer in hand, not facing Amy until the door was closed. Simon’s face was glowing from the nightlight under the microwave. Amy almost didn’t notice because everything else around Simon was darkness and shadows.

But there it was, impossible to ignore it once she recognized it. A bruise was forming under his left eye and around the high point of his cheek. Amy’s eyes filled with tears. The glassy film caused her vision of Simon to blur, causing the bruise to disappear all together. She knew where it had come from. Even at nineteen, she didn’t like seeing him get hurt. He was an adult and could make his own choices, but she didn’t like them.

“Simon,” Amy breathed. Her mouth stretched open to say something else, but nothing came out. He shifted forward, wrapping his arms around her small frame. She had lost some weight since getting sick so she felt so tiny, surrounded by his warm leather jacket.

“Wha’ are y’doing up?” He asked gently, pulling away to touch her face. He was studying her face. He was probably trying to see if she was still sick from the morning. “Y’should be in bed.”

“You’re hurt.” Amy stated, her voice shaking. “What happened?”

“Just work.” Simon brushed off her question as he moved away from her. It was only then that she noticed the bag on the counter. More pills. They got all the advice from the doctors, but they got the actual medicine from Simon’s connections. In a way, Amy was lucky Simon had such a dangerous profession. Without it, she wouldn’t have been able to afford treatment. “They’re to keep you from getting sick every time you eat.” Simon explained, following her gaze.

“Are they why you got hurt?”

“Absolutely not. Come on now,” He said, brushing her tears off of her cheeks. “Are y’hungry? I see the dinner I left you is still there.” Simon set his beer down and shrugged off his jacket. “I’ll make y’some eggs. Settle your stomach.”

She didn’t say no, but she didn’t know how she was going to eat them. Amy watched as Simon pulled out a pan and a couple of eggs, after turning the light on. “Did you at least get to write some today?”

“Are you really not going to tell me what happened?”

“Amy—“ Simon spoke sternly. He sounded like her Nan used to. “I know it’s scary when I come home like this, but you’re a big girl now. Y’need to understand that I have responsibilities. You’re one of them too. I’m always coming back to you.”

Amy swallowed hard, but she nodded. She had never said she was afraid of being left alone, but she didn’t have to. She took a seat at the table, while Simon finished her eggs. He sat down next to her with two plates of eggs.

“Can I have one too?”

Simon rolled his eyes as he cracked open his beer. “Just a sip.” He warned, as he handed it to her. Amy wasn’t allowed to drink with her medication. One taste wasn’t going to hurt. She took a small drink, before putting the bottle back in his waiting hand.

They ate their eggs in silence, with only the clinking of silverware as background noise. Simon finished first, leaning back in his chair to finish his beer. “If you feel up to it, we’ll go to the bookstore tomorrow. Let you catch up on your writing.”

“That sounds nice.” Amy murmured. She didn’t know if she’d feel better by then, but she loved the idea. She yawned, but she didn’t want to leave Simon yet. “Let me get you some ice.”

“Amy,” Simon said with a sigh as he grabbed her hand to keep her from getting up from the table. “Stop worrying, love. You need sleep. We both do. Let’s watch a movie till we fall asleep. Your choice.”

“You’re only letting me pick because you can sleep through it.”