#breston

No one had believed her, of course. Bridgette knew why. Who would believe anyone about zombies, especially a girl who suffered from her best friend haunting her after being dead for six years. But she had seen it happen. Graves lifted, Mausoleums opened. It was weird. People, who had been dead for centuries looked like they had just died yesterday. Bridgette didn’t even full believe it herself until Preston had felt the cold touch of Jessie’s hands, which were oddly all two familiar to Bridgette. It seemed that they only wanted to continue the lives they were living, for  the first few months. Then it started, the riots and fighting. Nothing killed these being, since they were already dead. It was something like out of a horror movie and Bridgette didn’t want to watch as mayhem ensue. She hid in her closet until Preston came and rescued her. He now sat with her, behind the couch, in the abandoned and ruined house. He was look out and she was to keep listen. They had always made a good team. When the coast was clear, the two made a run for his bike and sped out of town. They stopped in the woods and made a make-shift hut for the night with a fire.

"I’m sorry." He told her. Bridgette simply nodded and kissed his cheek. "If anyone should have believed you, it should have been me. That will never happen again. I will always believe you." Bridgette quickly shook her head. She understood.

Preston snuck up on his newly-wed wife, Bridgette, who was clad in the biggest, fluffiest, light blue robe he had seen in his whole entire life. He had left her early this morning to get some breakfast, not even leaving a note. He probably should’ve, but the Honeymoon high had affected his judgement. She was standing by the window, a hand held up to her mouth, which was biting down on her lip. From where Preston was creeping up on her, he could she her wedding ring flinting in the sun that streamed through the window. He smile wide and poked her in the sides. Bridgette jumped up and let out a loud yelp, not that Preston could hear that. He straightened out with a huge smirk plastered across his whole face. Bridgette gave him the sternest look she could muster—which Preston thought was adorable, but figured commenting on was a bad idea—and stomped her foot in anger.

"Preston Alexander Webb," she signed to him harshly, "How dare you leave you life alone in bed and scare her like that! No note, no call, no nothing! What if something happened? For all I knew you had just up and left me!" 

Preston let his smirk drop from his face for a moment. Then he started laughing. Bridgette smacked his arm, "Okay, sorry. But…really, Bridgette? Me? Running off? I just married you for heaven’s sake!" he shook his head at her in amusement. Bridgette just shrugged and looked away. Preston sighed and took her face in his hands, "I love you, Bridgette. I’ve agreed to spend the rest of every moment of my life with you because that’s what I want. I want it more than anything. I want o have an adorable white-picket fence with you. I want to raise a family with you. I want to be that mom and dad that the kids ‘eww’ at because we kiss right in front of them. I want to spoil our grandkids with you. I want to grow old with you and hold hands when we’re a thousand years old and walk around with another with such pride because, yes, we are still that much in love. I want my last words to be declarations of love for you. I want every single cliche in the book. I want every bit of you and I want to always be in your life. Forever. Because, yes, I love you that much and my future is nothing but a vision of your beauty being held by no one other than me. So, please, please don’t. I wanted your insecurities to die with my ‘I do’. Can you do that?" he looked her seriously, then hurried adds, "Also, I got breakfast," he gestured to the platter on the table where there was huge stack of waffles, eggs, milk in one of those really fancy-breakfast glasses, and a huge pineapple. Because, honestly, who goes to their Honeymoon in Hawaii and doesn’t get a pineapple? When Preston looked back at Bridgette she was pouting and folding her arms, "What?"

Bridgette looked like she wasn’t going to answer before signing, "Preston Alexander Webb, that is not fair. In the slightest."

"What’s not fair, Bridgette Rebecca Webb?" he asked, beaming as he tacked on her new last name.

He saw Bridgette groan, "That!" she replied, "You’re…You’re… taking advantage of your cuteness! And you’re taking advantage of how you always know how to say the perfect thing so that I can’t be mad at you!" she pouted, "It’s not fair,"

———

"You don’t understand Dean." Bridgette cried afterward. "You can’t understand. You’ll be off with Emma soon. I can’t rely that you’ll always be there. Preston promised and he…” her voice shook. “Killed himself.”

"The infection killed him Bridge," Dean corrected. "he didn’t."

"He gave himself the burns that caused the infection so he technically did." She sniffled. "I’m gunna go out for a walk." She said getting up and leaving, sneaking a,kitchen knife in her bag. She headed to the park and stopped under a street lamp. She pulled it out and it gleamed.

"Bridge?" Came Dean’s voice and she started running. She ran fast, unknowingly stopping at the tree where she had been beaten. When Jessie had died. Just then a,cold hand grabbed hers.

"Join us Bridgette." Came Jessie’s voice right before the knife plunged into her chest. She gasped and Jessie smile a genuine smile of happiness. Bridgette fell backwards. Jessie bent over and stoked her hair while Preston came over and held her hand. The world around her started to disappear.