Rain of blood (knee deep)

One week had passed and I had successfully avoided that one person. The feeling of guilt had haunted me ever since that night.

They were my friends, and now....

I've ruined it.

It was the last day of the school week, and classes had already ended now all that remained for me to do was to go home.

The evening sun played a steady game of hide and seek with the clouds coming out to shine only for a few minutes at a time. This behavior didn't help the fact that the days were still getting colder and that soon enough it would start snowing.

It was as if everything, dulled since the day she got stabbed, and almost died.

Almost as if the sky was saddened at the tragedy.

"Are you avoiding me?" Someone asked from behind me.

I turned slowly, Kate...

She was dressed differently, since it was colder, but she had a different ambiance about her, she seemed more mature.

She also had a blue woolen scarf wrapped around her neck. I wasn't sure if it was to block the cold or hide marks I may or may-not have made on her neck.

"Are you?" She asked.

i laughed a little, but she didnt retuurn the gesture. "Was it that bad?" she asked in almost a whisper while trying fruitlessly not to blush only to be betrayed by her pale skin.

huh? what is she taking about? then it hit me like a rock and it was all i cold do to respond without stuttering through the sentence. "No, God no, it was great!" I realized my mistake after I'd opened my mouth, a little too late.

I'd already rekindled a certain degree of hope in what she thought of our relationship.

I'd wanted to tell her, that I really don't see her that way and that I'd only done what I did, was because I felt guilty.

But all that came out were more lies.

"Then what is it?" She asked "why are you avoiding me, are you getting cold feet?"

"You're just so beautiful that I'm kinda afraid that this is a dream and I'll wake up," I stated.

She started blushing again but this time with a little smile.

She put her hand on my cheek the way she usually does. "I love you so don't break my heart ok? Because if I can't have you I don't know what I'll do."

-Just tell her already dammit!- I chastised myself trying to force myself to correct this mistake before it's too late.

"I felt sick this morning." She said softly "You know what that means right? I hope you'll take responsibility."

Huh? What?

"Something wrong?" She asked.

I could feel the blood rush from my face.

"You mean... You're-" I started.

"-I'm fine now," she stated in a more cheery voice.

-Hey... Hey you can't do that...-

"Oh and Cathy's gonna be released from the hospital today too so if you want to you could..." She stated and let the words trail off.

But my mind was still stuck on her words, before ~I hope you'll take reaponsibility.~

What the hell's that supposed to mean?

"Hey, you don't intend to?..." I started.

She thought about it a little and then, "of course not, it my mom were to find out, I'd never hear the end of it."

She paused a little and then "do you?"

I couldn't contain myself anymore, "hell no!"

Instantly, she got teary-eyed... Could I be more of a jerk?

__________****______<>______****___

Dammit! They'd blocked my only path of escape.

The corpses edged forward, half dragging their feet and growling and gargling their own rotting juices.

I want to push past them, but I knew better than to attempt that. These weren't ordinary undead. Even the term for their state is wrong.

They're not reanimated corpses or zombies. The situation is way more complicated that that.

One touch for them and you're infected, then it'd be only a matter of time before your corpse gets up and starts walking again.

The way things are now, is that if you die, you'll return to kill.

No matter what your policies on the matter of murder were before.

If you die, you kill.

Having said that though, I had no intention of dying in a place like this.

Especially when there were possibly only two of us left on the planet.

I slowly stepped back until I couldn't.

The shelf remained my enemy. Stopping me so that the dead could come get me.

Wait! Shelf?